Chapter 9 - MASON'S CONFESSION
Mason’s attorney did most of the talking.
Mason looked like he had not slept since the birthday.
He sat at my dining room table but refused coffee.
“I need to tell you what happened.”
I stared at him.
“Then tell me.”
His attorney placed the flash drive between us.
“This contains copies of messages, photographs, and audio recordings Mr. Bradley preserved.”
I looked at Mason.
“You recorded Teresa?”
He nodded.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew she was going to blame me.”
At least he was honest about his motivation.
Not conscience.
Self-preservation.
“How long were you involved?”
Mason swallowed.
“Four months.”
Amy sat beside me.
“What did she tell you?”
“That Connor wanted to protect the house from a divorce.”
Amy’s face hardened.
“She said I was divorcing him?”
“She said you had talked to a lawyer.”
“I hadn’t.”
Mason looked at me.
“She told me you wanted the house transferred before Amy could claim half.”
“And you believed her.”
“You never liked talking about money.”
“That does not mean I wanted you stealing documents.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
His attorney touched his arm.
Mason inhaled slowly.
“I knew something was wrong about two months ago.”
“Why?”
“Richard started talking about signatures.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Exactly.”
Mason looked down.
“I needed money.”
There it was.
“How much did Teresa promise you?”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
“For helping steal my house?”
“She said it wasn’t stealing.”
“What did she call it?”
“Family restructuring.”
I almost smiled.
Fraud always sounds respectable after enough paperwork.
“What was your job?”
“Get documents.”
“From where?”
“Your office.”
Amy looked at him.
“You came into our house while I was here?”
Mason nodded.
“When Teresa visited.”
“How many times?”
“Maybe six.”
My hands tightened.
“What did you take?”
“Nothing at first.”
“Then?”
“Copies.”
“Of what?”
“Tax returns.”
“Bank statements.”
“Insurance.”
“Your ID.”
“Property documents.”
Amy covered her mouth.
“Did you go through our bedroom?”
Mason looked miserable.
“Yes.”
I stood.
His attorney stood too.
“Connor.”
Amy said my name quietly.
I stopped.
I looked at Mason.
“You went through my wife’s bedroom while she was taking care of my son?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do not say that word unless you can tell me what it costs you.”
He stared at me.
I sat down again.
“What changed last week?”
“Teresa told me to take the original deed.”
“Why?”
“She wanted Richard to scan it.”
“Then?”
“I saw the transfer paperwork.”
“You had already seen it.”
“Not the final version.”
“What was different?”
Mason looked at Amy.
“It said after the transfer they would claim Amy abandoned the residence.”
The room went completely silent.
“What?”
Mason continued.
“Teresa wanted documentation that Amy had moved out.”
Amy stared at him.
“I never moved out.”
“I know.”
“How was she going to prove it?”
“She wanted you to leave.”
My pulse accelerated.
“How?”
“She thought if she made things bad enough, you would go stay with a friend.”
Amy looked at me.
Her emergency bag flashed through my mind.
Teresa had almost succeeded.
Mason continued.
“Then she was going to change the locks.”
I could barely believe what I was hearing.
“And tell Connor what?”
“That Amy left him.”
I looked at my wife.
The plan suddenly became brutally simple.
Convince Amy I was controlling the money.
Convince Amy I wanted her gone.
Pressure her until she left voluntarily.
Tell me Amy had abandoned us.
Transfer the property while we were in chaos.
Use forged documents to seize equity.
Move Teresa onto the property.
And if necessary, use Amy’s departure to manipulate custody.
“Did she talk about Frederick?”
Mason nodded.
“What did she say?”
“That Connor would need help.”
“With what?”
“Raising him.”
Amy stood up and left the room.
I heard the bedroom door close.
I wanted to follow her.
But I needed the rest.
“What is on the flash drive?”
“Everything I saved.”
“Anything I haven’t seen?”
Mason nodded.
“What?”
“An audio recording from Wednesday.”
“Play it.”
His attorney hesitated.
“Mason?”
He connected the drive to his laptop.
A recording began.
Teresa was speaking.
“If Amy leaves before Friday, perfect.”
Richard answered.
“And if she doesn’t?”
“We give her another reason.”
“What reason?”
“She hates being embarrassed.”
Mason’s voice entered.
“What are you talking about?”
Then Teresa laughed.
“The birthday.”
My stomach turned.
The birthday party had been designed as pressure.
Not celebration.
Humiliate Amy publicly.
Force her to serve relatives.
Make her feel powerless.
Maybe she would finally pack her emergency bag.
The recording continued.
Mason asked a question.
“What if Connor comes home?”
Teresa answered without hesitation.
“He won’t.”
I leaned forward.
“How did she know?”
Mason stopped the recording.
“She called your supervisor.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“She tried to arrange for you to work late.”
I remembered the schedule.
I had originally been expected to stay until seven.
I left early because a concrete delivery was delayed.
My mother had planned around my absence.
The only reason I discovered anything was because a truck from Kentucky arrived four hours late.
Chance had broken her plan.
Mason looked at me.
“There’s one more recording.”
“What is it?”
He hesitated.
“It’s from Friday morning.”
“Play it.”
Teresa’s voice came through the speaker.
“What if Connor doesn’t cooperate after the transfer?”
Richard asked.
My mother responded calmly.
“He will.”
Richard laughed.
“You’re confident.”
“I know my son.”
May you like
Then she said something I would remember for the rest of my life.
“If he has to choose between his mother and a wife who already left him, he’ll choose blood.”
