confronting missing funds.
And there was something else.
A single folder labeled:
“CONFESSION.”
Inside was a handwritten statement on lined paper.
It was shaky, like it had been written by someone nervous.
And at the bottom was a signature.
Trevor Hayes.
Linda’s oldest son.
The statement didn’t go into detail about the crime—that didn’t matter.
What mattered was the core truth:
He admitted he had framed me.
He admitted he had falsified documents.
He admitted he’d done it because he “couldn’t let the business go” and “needed someone to blame.”
