PART 5
I didn’t knock.
I got out of my car, walked straight to Sherry’s front door, and rang the bell once.
Then again.
No answer.
I could see movement through the curtains.
Someone was inside.
I rang a third time.
Finally, the door opened.
Sherry stood there.
She had changed out of her gold jacket.
Her face looked completely different now.
There was no anger.
No confidence.
Only fear.
“Mara.”
“Where is Toby?”
She didn’t answer.
I stepped forward.
“Where is my son?”
“He left.”
“When?”
“About ten minutes ago.”
I looked behind her.
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
I knew she was lying.
Not because I had proof.
Because after years of watching Sherry manipulate conversations, I had learned something.
She lied with too much detail when she was nervous.
I stepped inside.
“You need to leave.”
“No.”
“Mara—”
“I said no.”
She stared at me.
Then I heard something from the hallway.
A door closing.
I turned.
“Who else is here?”
“Nobody.”
I walked toward the hallway.
Sherry grabbed my arm.
“You can’t just walk into my house.”
I pulled away.
“Where is Toby?”
“He’s not here.”
I opened the first door.
Empty.
Second.
Empty.
Then I reached the last door.
Locked.
I turned around.
“What’s in there?”
“Storage.”
“Open it.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“Then I’ll call the police.”
Her face changed.
She reached into her pocket.
For a moment, I thought she was going to unlock the door.
Instead, she whispered:
“You don’t understand what you’re doing.”
“I understand that my son called me from your house and then disappeared.”
“He wasn’t kidnapped.”
“Then where is he?”
She looked away.
I stepped closer.
“Sherry.”
She finally gave me the key.
The room was small.
Boxes covered the walls.
Old furniture.
Christmas decorations.
Tax records.
Nothing unusual.
Then I noticed a cardboard box sitting on a shelf.
It had one word written across the top.
HUITT.
I pulled it down.
Sherry moved toward me.
“Don’t.”
I opened it.
Inside were copies of documents.
Bank statements.
Property records.
Photographs.
Old correspondence.
And a folder containing the original guest list.
I pulled it out.
There were twenty-four names.
The last one was mine.
My name had been crossed out in black ink.
Beside it was written:
Replace with Vivian.
Vivian.
Sherry’s sister.
I looked at her.
“Who changed this?”
She said nothing.
I turned the page.
There was another note.
Mara must not attend. She will ask questions.
My stomach turned.
“Who wrote this?”
Still nothing.
I opened another folder.
And then I saw something that made everything click.
There were copies of the trust documents.
The same trust Leon had created.
But these weren’t from twelve years ago.
They were recent.
Very recent.
Someone had been requesting information about the trust.
I looked at the dates.
Three months ago.
Two months ago.
Six weeks ago.
Then two weeks ago.
The final request was dated four days earlier.
I stared at Sherry.
“You’ve been trying to access Leon’s trust.”
“No.”
“The documents are right here.”
“I didn’t do that.”
“Then who did?”
She started crying.
Not dramatically.
Not the way she usually did when she wanted people to feel sorry for her.
These were real tears.
“I never meant for it to go this far.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“What did you mean to do?”
She sat down on an old wooden chair.
Then she covered her face.
“It was supposed to be simple.”
“What was?”
“The property.”
I waited.
She lowered her hands.
“Paige and Toby are struggling.”
I stared at her.
“Toby owns a successful company.”
“He did.”
“What does that mean?”
“He lost money.”
“How much?”
She looked at the floor.
“More than you know.”
My heart sank.
“When?”
“Last year.”
“How much?”
“About $180,000.”
I stared at her.
“Debt?”
She nodded.
“He borrowed against the business.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because he didn’t want you to know.”
That sounded like Toby.
Pride had always been his weakness.
But something still didn’t make sense.
“What does that have to do with the trust?”
Sherry looked at me.
“Everything.”
She explained.
Toby had discovered that the trust existed.
Not from Leon.
From an old financial statement.
He had learned that the lake property was worth significantly more than anyone realized.
He believed the property could be used to stabilize his business.
But he couldn’t access the trust without meeting the conditions.
So he asked questions.
Then Paige asked questions.
Then Sherry became involved.
At first, she claimed she was only trying to help.
But eventually, she saw an opportunity.
The lake property could be sold.
The house could be refinanced.
The trust could be restructured.
And if Toby agreed, Sherry could become involved in the new business arrangement.
I felt sick.
“You were trying to take the property.”
“No.”
“You were.”
“I was trying to save my daughter.”
“By using my son’s inheritance?”
She looked away.
Then she said something that shocked me.
“Your son asked me to.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Toby asked me to find a way.”
“No.”
“He did.”
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I were.”
I took out my phone.
“Then prove it.”
She stared at me.
“I don’t have to.”
“Yes, you do.”
I called Toby.
This time, he answered.
“Mom?”
“Where are you?”
