Chapter 3 - Every Memory Under Suspicion
I had known Owen Hayes almost as long as I had known Matthew.
He was four years older, louder, more ambitious, and always impatient with the quiet neighborhood where we grew up.
When we were children, Owen called Matthew my shadow.
When we began dating, he called me Matthew’s life sentence.
At our wedding, he smiled during his toast and said, “Some traps are worth walking into.”
At the time, everyone had laughed.
Now the sentence returned with a different meaning.
I called him the next morning.
Owen answered immediately.
“Emily.”
“You were waiting for my call.”
“I expected it months ago.”
“What is Maple Street Holdings?”
“A company Matthew created without telling you.”
“He said he only owns part of it.”
“He owns fifty-one percent. I own the rest.”
“What property are you transferring to me?”
Owen paused.
“Meet me somewhere public.”
“Why?”
“Because my brother will do anything to stop this conversation.”
Twenty minutes later, we sat across from each other in a crowded coffee shop.
Owen wore a dark suit and a silver watch. He glanced toward the entrance twice before placing a folder on the table.
Inside were bank statements, purchase agreements, construction invoices, and photographs of a large brick building.
I recognized it immediately.
“The Bellwood Center?”
The abandoned community building stood at the edge of our old neighborhood. It had once contained a library, a small theater, classrooms, and a basketball court.
It had closed during our senior year of high school after the city declared it unsafe.
Matthew and I had spent much of our childhood there.
“What does this have to do with me?” I asked.
“Matthew bought it three years ago.”
I looked up sharply.
“With what money?”
“Company funds.”
“Hayes Restoration funds?”
“Some.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did you approve it?”
“At first. Matthew convinced me the property would become valuable after the city redevelopment project. He said we’d renovate and sell it.”
“But that wasn’t his plan.”
“No.”
Owen pushed another document toward me.
It was a draft deed transferring the Bellwood Center to an organization called the Emily Carter Hayes Foundation.
My name appeared across the top.
“I don’t have a foundation.”
“You will after you sign the papers.”
I examined the document.
The property had been valued at nearly three million dollars after renovation.
“Why would Matthew give this to me?”
“That’s the question you should ask.”
“I did. He wouldn’t answer.”
Owen leaned back.
“My brother has always been obsessed with proving something.”
“To whom?”
“Our father. Himself. Maybe you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Do you remember what happened the night the center closed?”
I remembered standing outside the chained doors with Matthew while workers boarded the windows.
I had been seventeen.
My mother had recently died after a short illness, and the Bellwood Center had been the last place where I still felt close to her. She had volunteered in its library every Saturday.
That night, I had cried against Matthew’s shoulder.
“I wish I could save it,” I had told him.
Matthew had held my face between his hands.
“Someday I’ll buy it for you.”
I had laughed through my tears.
“With what money?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
It had been the promise of a teenage boy.
I had forgotten it.
Apparently, Matthew had not.
“Owen,” I whispered, “was he restoring the center for me?”
“He says he is.”
“That sounds like a good thing.”
“It would be, if he had used his own money.”
My relief disappeared.
Owen tapped the bank statements.
“He redirected profit from our company for years. I thought the funds were going into equipment and property investments. Instead, he poured them into that building.”
“Is it illegal?”
“That depends on what a judge thinks.”
“Did he steal from you?”
“He concealed information.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Owen’s mouth tightened.
“Our father left us equal ownership in Hayes Restoration. Matthew manages operations. I handle finance. He structured the Bellwood purchases through a separate company, but the initial capital came from us.”
“And you signed the transfers?”
“I signed documents based on what he told me.”
“So you did approve them.”
“Under false pretenses.”
I closed the folder.
“Why tell me now?”
“Because he plans to transfer the property before I can stop him. Once it belongs to your foundation, recovering it becomes difficult.”
“Recovering it for whom?”
“The company.”
“Or you?”
Owen’s eyes cooled.
“Be careful, Emily. Loyalty is what allowed Matthew to manipulate you this long.”
I stood.
“Send me copies of everything.”
“I already did.”
As I turned away, he spoke again.
“He didn’t fall in love with you by accident.”
I stopped.
Owen’s expression was unreadable.
“In high school, Matthew kept a list in his desk. A plan. Ask him about it.”
“What was on the list?”
“You. Every step of your life.”
I left before he could see how deeply the words affected me.
Rachel was waiting when I returned to her apartment.
I showed her the documents.
“He bought the Bellwood Center?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“For you?”
“Apparently.”
“That’s incredibly romantic.”
“He may have stolen millions from his own company.”
“That part is less romantic.”
I sank onto the sofa.
“And there’s a list.”
Rachel sat beside me. “What list?”
“Owen says Matthew planned every step of our relationship.”
“Do you believe Owen?”
“I don’t know whom to believe.”
Rachel opened the folder again.
“Something is wrong here.”
“Everything is wrong.”
“No. Look at these dates.”
She pointed to the first investment transfer.
“This happened three years ago. But Owen says he only just discovered the project?”
“He said Matthew concealed it.”
“Owen is the company’s financial director. How does a financial director fail to notice millions of dollars leaving for three years?”
I looked at the documents again.
Rachel was right.
Before I could respond, my phone rang.
It was my mother-in-law, Diane.
“Emily,” she said when I answered, “Matthew is at the old center.”
“Why?”
“He’s trying to stop Owen from shutting down the work.”
“What work?”
“The anniversary event.”
I stood.
May you like
Diane’s voice broke.
“You need to go there. They’re fighting, and Owen has police officers with him.”
