Chapter 4 - My Brother Arrived With a WarningRussell arrived at ten the following morning, carrying two coffees and the expression he wore whenever he intended to tell me something unpleasant while pretending to be helpful.
He was fifty-three, three years older than me, and had inherited Wayne's talent for making people feel unreasonable for asking ordinary questions.
He placed one coffee on the kitchen counter.
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“You haven't slept.”
“Neither have you, apparently.”
He glanced toward the pantry.
The flour tin was gone. I had taken it to the bank, but the empty shelf remained visible.
His eyes lingered there a moment longer than necessary.
“You took it somewhere.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“First County Bank.”
He exhaled through his nose.
“Linda, I asked you not to do this.”
“You didn't ask. You ordered.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Fine. What do you know?”
I studied him.
For three decades, I had considered Russell an inconsiderate brother, sometimes selfish and occasionally cruel, but fundamentally familiar. We had grown up in the same house. We had fought over the television, shared a bedroom during a storm that knocked out the power, and sat together at Mama's kitchen table while she taught us to make biscuits.
I knew the sound of his laugh.
I knew how he took his coffee.
I had believed I knew what kind of man he was.
Now I wondered whether that belief had been another thing Mama had left me to correct.
“The settlement was $118,940,” I said.
Russell's jaw tightened.
“One hundred thousand dollars was withdrawn eleven days after it was deposited. The money went into Parrish Development. The company bought the warehouse you still own.”
He set his coffee down.
“That's ancient history.”
“It was my money.”
“Wayne invested in a business.”
“With my money.”
“I was twenty years old, Linda. I wasn't running the company.”
“You were listed as a co-owner.”
“Wayne put my name on things. I didn't understand every document he made me sign.”
“Then why did you tell me to stop digging?”
He looked at me for a long time.
“Because I knew how Wayne could be.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“He was angry when people challenged him. You know that.”
“I was seventeen the last time he controlled my life. You were old enough to know right from wrong.”
Russell flinched.
It was small, almost invisible, but I saw it.
I took the photocopy of Wayne's note from my folder and placed it on the table.
Russell read it.
For the first time since he entered the house, the mask dropped completely.
“Where did you get this?”
“Grace Bell.”
He sat down slowly.
“Mama went to a lawyer?”
“Apparently, years ago.”
He stared at the note again.
“Wayne told me she threw away everything from that time.”
“Did you believe him?”
Russell said nothing.
I leaned forward.
“Did you know where my settlement went?”
He looked toward the window.
“I knew Wayne had used money to start the company.”
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
“How much, Russell?”
He closed his eyes.
“One hundred thousand dollars.”
The kitchen seemed to tilt.
“You knew?”
“I knew the amount he put into the business. I didn't know it was your settlement until years later.”
“When?”
He swallowed.
“When I was applying for a loan to expand the warehouse. The accountant asked me about the original capital. Wayne told him it had come from a family settlement.”
I felt a sickening cold spread through my chest.
“And you never asked whose settlement?”
Russell's eyes filled, but he did not cry.
“I asked Wayne. He told me not to worry about it.”
“That was enough for you?”
“I had a wife. I had a mortgage. I had employees depending on me. I had a business that could have collapsed if the investment had been challenged.”
“So you decided the easiest thing was to say nothing.”
He looked down at his hands.
“Yes.”
The word was barely audible.
I stood.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Russell reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
“I brought you something.”
It was an old photocopy of a property deed.
The document showed that Parrish Development had purchased the warehouse in 1991. Russell's name was listed beside Wayne's, but a later amendment had transferred most of Wayne's ownership to Russell.
The date of that amendment was 2001.
The same year Wayne had written his note to Mama.
“Why are you giving me this?” I asked.
“Because I think you should know the truth.”
“What truth?”
Russell looked toward the pantry.
“Wayne didn't give me the company out of generosity.”
He tapped the deed.
“He gave it to me because he was afraid Mama would take him to court.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What does that have to do with you?”
Russell's answer came quietly.
“Everything. If you prove that the original money was yours, you may be able to challenge the property.”
He looked directly at me.
“And if the property is challenged, you won't just be coming after Wayne.”
May you like
He took a breath.
“You'll be coming after everything I own.”
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