She’d had family once. A sister who was supposed to love her. And look how that turned out. But the Chens were different. Margaret could see that now. They weren’t helping her because they had to or because they felt guilty. They were helping her because it was the right thing to do. Sometimes that’s enough. Sometimes that’s everything. 3 weeks after Margaret’s release, they got their first real break. David had been digging through county records, trying to trace the paper trail of the house sale.
He’d found the original deed transfer, the forged death certificate, and the probate documents that Diane had used to claim ownership of the property. But he’d also found something else. She didn’t just sell the house, David said, spreading documents across the kitchen table. She liquidated everything. Your husband’s workshop equipment sold to an antique dealer in Nashville for $12,000. Your furniture sold at an estate sale in 2008. Your mother’s china, your family photographs, your clothes, all of it. She even sold your car.
Margaret stared at the documents, sale receipts, bank transfers, a detailed accounting of everything she’d ever owned, converted to cash and deposited into an account under Dian’s name. How much? Margaret asked, her voice hollow. Total. How much did she take? David hesitated. The house sold for 215,000. The contents brought in another 38,000 combined with the cash you said was in the safe. $180,000. That’s $4 $33,000 give or take. $433,000 her entire life. Everything she and Robert had built together.
Everything her parents and grandparents had left her gone. All of it. Stolen by the sister she would have died for. Where did it go? Margaret asked the money. Where did she put it? That’s where it gets complicated. David said the account was closed in 2010. The funds were transferred to a bank in Arizona. After that, the trail goes cold. Margaret filed that away. It wasn’t much, but it was something, a direction, a place to start looking. There’s something else, David said.
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