Chapter 12 - The Framed Hero
The word "Thomas" hit me like a physical strike straight to the chest.
Uncle Thomas.
My father's younger brother, who had mysteriously "disappeared" when I was eight years old.
My father had always told Melanie and me that Uncle Thomas was a dishonorable family disgrace who abandoned us.
He had told us Thomas was a drifter who ended up in prison for violent crimes and wanted nothing to do with us.
"That's a lie!" my father screamed, his voice cracking violently as sweat poured down his flushed forehead.
"Thomas was a thief! He stole those parts! NCIS caught him red-handed!"
"NCIS caught him because you planted the forged bills of lading in his office, Arthur!" Marcus shot back instantly.
"I was a Lieutenant Commander on the investigative team back in 1990," Marcus continued, turning to address the crowd.
"Thomas was a decorated Navy logistics officer who refused to sign off on Arthur's fraudulent, unsafe supply contracts."
"So Arthur set him up, sent his own brother to federal prison for seven years, and took the stolen money to start his company."
A collective gasp ripped through the two hundred high-society guests filling the opulent country club ballroom.
Ethan’s father, Richard Vance, looked at my father with absolute, unadulterated disgust and stepped away from him.
"Arthur... is this true?" Richard asked, his voice dripping with pure horror.
"Did you build your construction partnership with me using stolen military funds?"
My father couldn't speak; his jaw trembled as he looked around at the two hundred pairs of eyes judging him.
Melanie sank down into a nearby dining chair, her pristine white wedding dress pooling around her as she wept silently.
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The entire illusion of the perfect, respectable, high-class Bennett family had just shattered into a thousand jagged pieces.
I stood completely still, the blood roaring in my ears as thirty-six years of psychological abuse finally made sense.
