Chapter 6: Mason Tells the Truth
He was parked at the far end of the hospital lot, in a gray pickup I didn't recognize.
I stood outside his window and didn't get in.
"Talk," I said.
Mason looked worse than he had the night before.
He hadn't slept.
His eyes were red and his hands were wrapped around the steering wheel like he needed something to hold onto.
"I didn't know about the insurance policy," he said.
"I want you to know that first.
I didn't know what was in all of it.
She told me the deed was a formality.
She said you had agreed to add her name for tax purposes and that the notary just needed a witness."
"And you believed that."
He looked away.
"She's been helping me for three years, Connor.
When I lost my job, she lent me money.
When my wife left, she was the one who showed up.
I owed her." He paused.
"She called it in.
She said she needed me to carry the folder and if anyone asked, to say you had authorized it."
"You were going to lie for her."
"I was going to stay quiet.
There's a difference." He said it without conviction.
"Not to a judge there isn't."
Mason rubbed his face with both hands.
"She told me last night — before they put the cuffs on her — she leaned over and said, 'You keep your mouth shut and I'll handle this.
You say one word and I'll tell them the debt was a loan agreement and you never paid it back.
I have the paperwork.'" He looked at me.
"She had paperwork for the loan, Connor.
I signed it.
I didn't read it carefully because I trusted her.
I don't know what it actually says."
There it was.
Teresa had documentation on Mason too.
A signed loan agreement she could weaponize the moment he stopped being useful.
"She built herself a safety net out of people who owed her," I said.
"Yes."
"How many others?"
Mason hesitated.
"At least two more.
Your cousin Deb — Teresa helped her with a custody situation two years ago.
Paid for her lawyer.
Deb's been running errands for her ever since, no questions asked.
And Dale Pruitt — the notary.
Teresa found out he had a DUI he hadn't disclosed when he got his license.
She held it over him."
"So she had a forger, a courier, and a lookout."
"Deb wasn't at the party by accident.
She was there to make sure Amy didn't call you."
My jaw tightened.
"Deb was monitoring Amy."
"She was supposed to keep her busy and calm.
Make sure she didn't reach her phone." Mason's voice dropped.
"Amy tried to call you twice during the party.
Deb told her you were in a meeting and she'd checked your calendar.
She hadn't checked anything.
She just said it."
I thought about Amy in that kitchen.
Feverish baby in one arm.
Dish rag in the other.
Thinking I knew where she was, thinking I was aware of what was happening, thinking I had somehow agreed to this.
She had tried to call me twice.
"Mason." I kept my voice even.
"You're going to talk to my lawyer.
Today.
You're going to tell her everything you just told me, and you're going to give her the names.
Deb.
Dale Pruitt.
Anyone else."
"And what happens to me?"
"That depends on how useful you are and how honest you are about it.
But I'll tell you what definitely happens if you don't talk — Teresa uses that loan agreement against you the moment she needs a bargaining chip, and you go down with her for carrying that folder."
He stared at the steering wheel.
"She said you'd never believe her over me," he said quietly.
"She said you always thought she was difficult and you'd been looking for a reason to cut her off for years."
"What do you think?"
He was quiet for a long moment.
"I think I watched you carry a birthday cake through your own back door and find your wife washing dishes with a sick baby in her arms." He finally looked up.
"And I think I should have put that folder down and walked away the moment she handed it to me."
May you like
He called Grace Holloway himself that afternoon.
I didn't have to ask him twice.
