Chapter 9 - He Offered Me More Money Than Mama Had SavedWayne looked older than I remembered, but not weaker.
His hair had thinned, his shoulders had narrowed, and the lines around his mouth had deepened. Yet his eyes remained sharp, scanning the room with the calculating attention of someone accustomed to knowing exactly what every person wanted.
He looked at the metal box in my hands.
Then at Grace.
Finally, he smiled.
“I wondered how long it would take Beverly's little treasure hunt to end here.”
I held the box tighter.
“You knew about the ledger.”
“Of course I knew about the ledger. I built this company.”
“With my settlement.”
He looked at me as though I had repeated a boring joke.
“We've already discussed this.”
“No. You threatened me on the phone. You never explained why you stole my money.”
Wayne removed his jacket and draped it over the back of the desk chair.
“Stealing is a word people use when they don't understand business.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I made a decision for the family.”
“You used my money to buy a warehouse.”
“And that warehouse created jobs. It gave Russell a life. It allowed your mother to stay in a house she could afford.”
“My mother stayed in that house because she worked until her hands hurt.”
Wayne's expression hardened.
“Beverly was not a saint.”
“No. She was a woman who made mistakes. But at least she didn't pretend they were investments.”
For a moment, I thought he might strike me.
Instead, he laughed.
“You sound just like her.”
He walked around the desk.
“Let me tell you what happens next. You take that box to a lawyer. The lawyer spends months reviewing ancient records. Russell hires his own attorney. The business freezes. Employees lose their jobs. Everyone begins blaming everyone else.”
“Then you answer for what you did.”
“I will be dead before a court finishes sorting through this mess.”
“That's convenient.”
“It's realistic.”
He stopped a few feet away.
“Tell me what you want.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Money. You want compensation? Tell me a number.”
I thought of Mama's flour tin. The hidden bills. The letter that began with an apology. The years she had spent keeping the truth locked away.
“You already know the number.”
“Eighteen thousand nine hundred and forty dollars?”
He shrugged.
“I can do better than that.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
Russell made a choking sound behind me.
Wayne ignored him.
“Two hundred thousand dollars, transferred into an account of your choosing. You sign an agreement stating that you consider the matter resolved. No lawsuits. No accusations. No public statements.”
I could barely believe what I was hearing.
Thirty years ago, he had stolen one hundred thousand dollars from me and used it to build an empire.
Now he was offering me twice that amount as though he were negotiating the purchase of a used truck.
“Why?” I asked.
Wayne's smile disappeared.
“Because your mother is gone, and there is no reason to make her memory uglier than it needs to be.”
“She left me the truth.”
“She left you a pile of old papers.”
“And a recording of you admitting what you did.”
For the first time, Wayne looked frightened.
It lasted only a second.
Then he turned toward Grace.
“Is that what you're relying on? A tape made by a woman who spent the last twenty years confusing memories with facts?”
Grace remained calm.
“We have the original ledger, the settlement documents, and your written acknowledgment.”
Wayne's jaw tightened.
“You have nothing that proves Linda was entitled to the money in the first place.”
I raised the bank withdrawal record.
“My name was on the account.”
“Your mother controlled it.”
“Then why did you forge my signature?”
Wayne looked at Russell.
“You tell her.”
Russell said nothing.
Wayne's voice rose.
“Tell her what your mother signed.”
Russell took a step forward.
“She signed the letter acknowledging that the settlement was being used for the business.”
“And did she?”
“She signed a letter,” Russell replied. “I don't know what she was told.”
Wayne's face darkened.
“You ungrateful little—”
“Don't,” Russell said.
The word sounded unfamiliar coming from him.
Wayne stared.
Russell continued, “You told me the money was a family investment. You never told me it was Linda's settlement until years later. And when I asked you about it, you told me to keep my mouth shut.”
Wayne looked at me.
“This is what you wanted, Linda. You wanted to turn your brother against me.”
“No,” I said. “I wanted my family to stop lying.”
He stepped toward the box.
I pulled it away.
“Give me the ledger.”
“No.”
His voice became quiet.
“You don't understand what else is in there.”
“What else?”
He looked at Russell.
May you like
Then he said something I had never expected.
“The money wasn't the only thing I took from you.”
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