Chapter 7: The Secret Patricia Had Buried for Thirty-Four Years
Robert didn't leave the farmhouse until nearly midnight.
He took copies of the bank receipt, the original property agreement, and my father's letter. Susan stayed behind to make a list of everything that needed to be authenticated.
Before leaving, Robert gave me one warning.
“Daniel, don't contact Patricia again. Don't threaten her, don't negotiate with her, and don't tell her what we've discovered.””
“Why?””
“Because if she knows you have that receipt, she may try to destroy whatever evidence remains.””
I looked at the wooden box.
“Do you think she knows about the payment?””
“I think she knows more than she's telling us.””
After they left, I found my mother sitting on the porch.
She was wearing her old blue sweater, with a blanket across her knees.
The wedding flowers were still inside the house.
“I couldn't sleep,” she said.
I sat beside her.
“Mom, tell me about Patricia.””
She stared at the dark field beyond the porch.
“I didn't know her very well. Not at first. Walter was the one who handled everything with your father.””
“What happened after Dad died?””
She took a slow breath.
“Three days after the funeral, Patricia came to the farmhouse.””
I turned toward her.
“What?””
“She was crying. She brought groceries and some money. I told her I didn't need charity.””
“What did she say?””
My mother looked down at her hands.
“She said, 'Evelyn, please. Your husband did something for me, and I have to make sure his family is protected.''”
I felt a chill.
“What did she mean?””
“I asked her the same thing. She wouldn't explain.””
“Did she mention the land?””
“She told me not to sign anything Walter sent me. She said the property was ours and that I should keep every original document.””
I leaned forward.
“Why didn't you tell me this before?””
“Because I thought she had been helping us. I didn't understand that she might have been involved in the original dispute.””
My mother paused.
“Then, a few years later, Patricia stopped coming around.””
“Did she explain why?””
“No. She sent one letter. It said she was sorry, but she couldn't continue helping us.””
“Do you still have it?””
My mother nodded.
“It's in the wooden box.””
We went inside.
She searched beneath the old photographs and eventually found a folded letter.
The handwriting matched the signature on the payment receipt.
I opened it carefully.
Dear Evelyn,
I know you have questions, and I know you may never forgive me for what my family has done.
Walter believes the land belongs to him. He has spent years trying to convince himself that the documents he created are legitimate.
Your husband refused to cooperate.
He told me something I will never forget.
He said a man's reputation is worth nothing if his family has to pay for his dishonesty.
I helped Thomas settle the final payment because I wanted the property dispute to end. I believed that once Walter received his money, he would leave you alone.
I was wrong.
Please keep Daniel away from this family.
One day, he may understand why.
The letter ended without a signature.
I read it twice.
“Mom, Patricia knew Walter had forged the agreement.””
My mother nodded.
“And she paid Dad's final settlement?””
“It appears so.””
“Why would she help him if she knew he was being cheated?””
My mother stared at the letter.
“Maybe she loved someone.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know. But your father once told me that Patricia had been unhappy for years. He said she was afraid of her father.””
I returned to the kitchen.
I needed answers.
And I knew someone who might have them.
Denise.
I called her.
She answered on the second ring.
“Daniel?””
“Do you remember anything else about Vanessa and Patricia talking before the wedding?””
“Why?””
“I'm trying to understand something about Patricia's past.””
Denise was quiet.
Then she said, “Actually, there's something I haven't told you.””
“What?””
“I found an old photograph in the Mitchell hotel suite.””
I sat down.
“What photograph?””
“Patricia was carrying a framed picture. It fell out of her bag when she was packing.””
“Who was in it?””
“Your father.””
My breath caught.
“Dad?””
“Yes. He was standing beside Patricia. They looked young. Maybe in their twenties.””
“Are you sure it was my father?””
“I'm positive. I recognized him from the photograph in your mother's house.””
“Where is the picture now?””
“I took a photograph of it.””
She sent it.
I opened the image.
My father stood beside a young Patricia Mitchell.
They were smiling.
Behind them was the old farmhouse.
But there was something else.
Patricia was holding a baby.
I zoomed in.
The child was wrapped in a pale yellow blanket.
“Denise,” I said, “did you notice the baby?””
“Yes.””
“Do you know who it was?””
“No. But I think it's Vanessa's mother.””
I stared at the screen.
Patricia was not just standing beside my father.
She was holding a baby who appeared to be only a few months old.
I turned the photograph over on my phone.
There was a handwritten date.
Thirty-five years earlier.
And beneath it:
*Thomas, Evelyn, Patricia, and little Catherine. One family, before the truth.*
Catherine Mitchell.
Vanessa's mother.
I looked at my mother.
“Mom, did you know Patricia had a daughter?””
“Of course. Catherine.””
“Were you close?””
My mother nodded slowly.
“We were friends for a while.””
“Friends?””
She looked uncomfortable.
“Your father and Patricia were friends before either of them married. Walter didn't approve of their friendship.””
I felt my heart beating faster.
“Why?””
“Because Patricia wanted to become a teacher. Walter wanted her to work in his company.””
My mother paused.
“Thomas helped her get a scholarship.””
I looked at the photograph again.
The four names.
One family.
Before the truth.
“Mom,” I said, “was Catherine ever at our farmhouse?””
“Many times.””
“Did she grow up with me?””
My mother smiled sadly.
“She was a little older than you. She used to bring you toys. You called her Katie.””
The name struck something in my memory.
Katie.
A young woman who used to visit the farmhouse.
Someone who had held my hand when I fell off my bicycle.
Someone who had once brought me a red toy truck.
I remembered a woman laughing.
Then I remembered her crying in our kitchen.
I was too young to understand why.
“Why did she stop coming?””
My mother lowered her eyes.
“Because she discovered something about her father.””
“What?””
She didn't answer.
I called Samuel Reed.
It was late, but he picked up.
“Daniel?””
“I found Patricia's letter. And a photograph of my father with Patricia and her daughter.””
Samuel was silent.
Then he said, “I was wondering when you'd find that photograph.””
“You know about it?””
“Yes.””
“Tell me the truth.””
He sighed.
“Catherine Mitchell was Thomas's daughter.””
The words didn't make sense.
I stood up.
“What?””
“Not biologically,” Samuel clarified quickly.
“But Thomas raised her like family for several years. Her biological father was Walter Mitchell.””
I frowned.
“Then why did Mom say she was friends with us?””
“Because your father and Evelyn helped Patricia when she was struggling. Walter was controlling. Patricia eventually left his household for a while, and Thomas helped her find work.””
I looked at the photograph.
“Was my father in love with Patricia?””
Samuel paused.
“I don't know what they felt for each other. But I know Thomas was determined to protect her daughter from Walter.””
I sat down again.
“Then why did Patricia return to the Mitchell family?””
“Because Walter threatened to take Catherine away from her.””
The room seemed to tilt.
“Is that why Patricia helped my father?””
“Yes. She had access to money Walter didn't know about. She used it to settle the final payment and make sure the eastern field stayed with your parents.””
“Then why is she trying to take it now?””
Samuel's voice became quiet.
“Because Vanessa may have discovered something Patricia spent her entire life trying to hide.””
“What?””
“I believe Walter left behind a second set of documents.””
“What documents?””
“An original trust agreement.””
I looked toward the wooden box.
“Where?””
Samuel hesitated.
“Thomas once told me that Walter kept the original trust papers in a safety deposit box. But after Walter died, nobody could locate them.””
I rubbed my forehead.
“Who inherited his estate?””
“Patricia.””
“And she never found them?””
“I don't know.””
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
*You should stop digging into your father's past. Some secrets are better left buried.*
I stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
*Ask your mother what happened the night Walter Mitchell disappeared from the farmhouse.*
I looked at Evelyn.
She had been standing in the doorway.
Her face had gone pale.
“Mom?””
She slowly approached me.
“Show me.””
I handed her the phone.
She read the message.
Then she sat down.
For the first time since the wedding, my mother looked genuinely frightened.
“Daniel,” she whispered, “there is something I never told you.””
“What?””
She looked toward the dark hallway.
“The night before your father died, Walter came to our house.””
I held my breath.
“What happened?””
“Your father and Walter argued in the barn. I heard shouting. Then something crashed.””
“Did you go inside?””
“No. Your father came out alone. He told me to take you upstairs.””
“Why?””
She swallowed.
“Because Walter was bleeding.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
“He had a cut above his eye. Your father told him to leave.””
“Did Walter leave?””
My mother nodded.
“But before he did, he said something.””
“What?””
She closed her eyes.
“He told your father that if the property ever became valuable, he would come back for it.””
I looked at the message again.
“Mom, why didn't you tell the police?””
“Because Walter told me your father had attacked him first. And because Thomas begged me not to get involved.””
I stared at her.
“Was Dad hurt?””
She nodded.
“He had a bruise on his shoulder.””
The room went silent.
Then my mother whispered:
“Daniel, I think your father was afraid that Walter would come back that night.””
I felt cold.
Because my father died less than twenty-four hours after that argument.
And now, thirty-four years later, Walter's family had returned.
May you like
But this time, they weren't just asking for the land.
They were trying to erase the evidence of what happened.
