Chapter 6: Mason Talks
Mason called twice more that night and once the following morning.
I let all three go to voicemail.
The fourth time, I picked up.
"I'm not doing this over the phone," I said.
"If you want to talk, come to Daniel Hess's office.
Bring whatever you want to say and say it there."
A pause.
"Connor, I don't need a lawyer present for a conversation between family."
"Yes you do.
Because this stopped being a family conversation the night you ran for my back gate with my house deed under your arm."
Another pause.
Longer.
"Fine," he said.
"Tomorrow.
Ten o'clock."
He arrived nine minutes late.
No lawyer.
That told me something.
Either he thought he could handle this alone, or he couldn't afford one, or Teresa had told him to go without one — which would tell me something about how much Teresa still thought she was running this.
He sat down across from Daniel and me and folded his hands on the table like he was about to negotiate a contract.
"I want to be clear about my role," he said.
"I was helping Teresa.
I didn't originate the plan."
"You were on the recording," I said.
"I was relaying information.
Teresa made the decisions."
Daniel slid a single sheet of paper across the table.
"Mr.
Bradley, this is a transcript of the relevant portion of the recording.
I've highlighted the section where you say, and I'm quoting directly: 'The notary is handled.
She signs Tuesday, we file Wednesday.' Does that sound like someone relaying information?"
Mason looked at the paper.
He didn't answer.
"Mason." I leaned forward.
"I don't want to send my cousin to prison.
But I also don't want to sit here while you tell me you were just following orders.
So I'm going to ask you one question, and I need a straight answer."
He waited.
"Whose idea was Gerald Fitch?"
Something moved across his face.
Quick.
Gone.
"Teresa found him," he said.
"How?"
"Through a contact.
Someone she met at a property seminar two years ago."
"A property seminar."
"She's been going to investment seminars for years.
You didn't know?"
I hadn't known.
"She had a plan," Mason said.
"Long before last night.
The idea was — Connor, I want you to understand, she genuinely believed she was doing what was best for the family—"
"Stop," I said.
"Don't explain her.
Explain you."
He went quiet.
"You were on that recording threatening my wife," I said.
"You told her to make sure Amy understood what would happen if she talked.
What did that mean, Mason?
What were you going to do?"
"Nothing." His voice was quick.
"It was a bluff.
We weren't going to do anything.
Teresa just wanted Amy scared enough to stay quiet."
"You threatened my wife to keep her silent while you stole my house."
He flinched.
"Say it plainly," I said.
"Say what you did."
A long moment.
"We threatened Amy," he said.
"To keep her from telling you.
And we forged your signature to transfer the deed.
And we had a buyer lined up." He exhaled.
"That's what we did."
Daniel made a note.
"Mason," I said.
"I need to know everything.
Every conversation.
Every meeting with Fitch.
Every contact with Colt.
Every step of the plan from the beginning.
You give Daniel everything, and I will tell the prosecutor you cooperated.
That's the only offer I'm making."
Mason looked at the table.
"Teresa isn't going to forgive me for this," he said.
"Teresa is looking at fraud charges and a forged deed.
She doesn't get to forgive anyone right now."
He sat with that for a moment.
Then he started talking.
He talked for two hours.
By the time he finished, Daniel had four pages of notes and a list of three additional names — people Teresa had contacted, people who had known about the plan, people who had said nothing.
One of them was Aunt Betsy.
May you like
The woman who had laughed in my kitchen and told Amy she needed to earn her place.
She had known about the deed transfer for six weeks.
