Chapter 5: What Roy Remembered
Daniel called back at 9:47 that night.
Amy had fallen asleep in the chair beside Frederick's hospital bed, her hand resting on the edge of the mattress near his feet.
I stepped into the hallway to take the call.
"Fitch isn't answering his personal line," Daniel said.
"His office voicemail says he's out of the country until Monday.
That may be true.
It may not be."
"What do we do if he runs?"
"He can't run far enough to outrun a document trail.
But I'd rather have him here." A pause.
"The more immediate question is the power of attorney.
If your mother tries to use it before we can get it invalidated, she could theoretically initiate a property transaction in your name.
I've already filed an emergency motion to freeze any transfers tied to your address.
The judge on call tonight is someone I know.
I expect it'll be granted by morning."
I leaned against the wall.
The hallway smelled of antiseptic and recycled air.
"What do I need to do?"
"Tomorrow morning, I need you in my office.
Bring any financial records you can access tonight — bank statements, the monthly transfer records to your mother, anything that shows the money flow.
And Connor—" He stopped.
"What?"
"Is there anyone in your family besides Betsy who might be willing to talk?
Someone who was at that meeting and has less to lose than the others?"
I thought about the faces in my yard.
Mason, who claimed he hadn't known what was in the folder.
Cousin Diane, who had barely looked at me all evening.
Uncle Roy, who had stood near the back of the crowd and said nothing at all.
Roy was my father's younger brother.
He had never been close to Teresa.
He had come to the party — I realized now — without his wife.
He had stood apart.
He had left early, before the police arrived.
"Roy," I said.
"My uncle Roy."
"Can you reach him tonight?"
"I can try."
Roy answered on the third ring.
His voice was careful.
"Connor."
"Roy.
I need to ask you something directly, and I need you to be honest with me."
A long exhale.
"I figured you'd call."
"Were you at the meeting?
The one Teresa held here when Amy was pregnant?"
Silence.
"Roy."
"Yes," he said.
"I was there."
"Tell me what happened."
Another pause.
I heard him move — a door closing, the sound of the room going quieter around him.
"She laid it all out," he said.
"The plan for the house.
The custody angle.
She had documents already prepared.
Fitch was there in person, Connor.
He walked us through the legal steps like it was a business presentation."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"She told us it was for the family.
That Amy wasn't stable.
That you were too close to her to see it." Roy's voice dropped.
"Most of the room believed her.
Or they wanted to.
You know how she is.
When Teresa decides something is true, it becomes true in that room."
"But you didn't believe her."
"I didn't know what to believe.
But I knew your father would have hated it." A beat.
"He loved Amy.
You know that.
He told me once, before he got sick, that she was the best thing that had happened to this family in years."
I closed my eyes for a moment.
"Roy, I need you to give a statement.
To my lawyer, and possibly to the police."
The silence stretched.
"She'll come after me," he said.
"She's going to be too busy to come after anyone." I kept my voice steady.
"Roy, she forged my signature.
Twice.
She had a lawyer help her.
This isn't a family disagreement anymore."
A long, slow breath on the other end of the line.
"Send me your lawyer's number," Roy said.
"I'll call him in the morning."
I sent the contact before he could change his mind.
I stood in the hallway for another moment.
Through the small window in Frederick's door, I could see Amy still asleep in the chair, her head tilted to one side.
Frederick's small chest rose and fell steadily under the hospital blanket.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Teresa.
*I am your mother.
Whatever you think you know, I did this for you.
You will understand that one day.
Come home and we will talk like family.*
I read it once.
May you like
Then I put the phone in my pocket and went back into the room to sit with my wife and son.
I didn't reply.
