“Who took this?” I asked.
Claire leaned closer.
“I did.”
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“You said you introduced Ryan to the buyer.”
“I did.”
“What happened that night?”
She closed her eyes.
“Your father discovered Ryan had copied confidential files. They argued in the private dining room.”
“Did my father fire him?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is he shaking Ryan’s hand?”
“Ryan begged him not to cause a scene in front of the clients. Your father agreed to finish dinner quietly.”
“And afterward?”
“Linda arrived.”
Daniel frowned.
“Linda wasn’t invited.”
“She waited in the parking lot. Ryan gave her the blue folder.”
My anger sharpened.
“Did Dad see him?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing.”
Claire accepted the accusation.
“I was afraid.”
“Everyone keeps telling me they were afraid. Meanwhile, my father was dying, my company was being robbed, and Ryan was standing beside me pretending to help.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
Noah sat quietly in the corner drawing.
He looked up when my voice rose.
I forced myself to lower it.
He had already seen enough adults frightening each other.
Detective Greene called that afternoon.
The storage facility confirmed that Red Bird Event Supply still rented a unit.
The bill was paid annually with a cashier’s check.
Surveillance footage showed Linda visiting three weeks before the wedding.
Greene was preparing a warrant.
“Could Allison be there?” I asked.
“We have no evidence of that.”
“But it’s possible.”
“We will search safely.”
Beth pressed both hands over her mouth.
She had waited six years for an answer.
Another few hours felt cruel.
While we waited, Margaret examined the secondary trust documents my father had left.
She found a handwritten note attached to the final page.
Daniel recognized the handwriting.
It belonged to our father.
If Ryan pressures Emma after my death, contact Jonathan Pierce.
“Who is Jonathan Pierce?” I asked.
Daniel shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Margaret searched public records.
Jonathan had been a private investigator in Tennessee.
He retired two years ago.
His listed telephone number was disconnected.
Rebecca recognized the name.
“Your father hired him.”
“When?”
“About eight months before he died.”
“To investigate Ryan?”
“I don’t know. Henry stopped talking whenever I entered the room.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I thought it involved the company.”
More secrets.
Our family had been full of them.
My father believed silence protected us.
Daniel had made the same mistake.
Now I understood how easily protection could become control.
We located Jonathan through an old business partner.
He answered on the fourth ring.
When I introduced myself, he went quiet.
“I wondered when you would call.”
“You knew my father?”
“Yes.”
“He left your name in a trust file.”
“I know.”
“What did he hire you to investigate?”
“Ryan Cole and Linda Mercer Cole.”
My pulse quickened.
“What did you find?”
“Enough to frighten him.”
“Allison Moore?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Another silence.
“I know where she was two years ago.”
“Where?”
“Living under another name in Kentucky.”
Beth stood so quickly her chair fell backward.
“Give me the address.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Allison believed Ryan would kill her if he found her.”
The room fell silent.
Jonathan continued.
“Your father promised her confidentiality.”
“My father spoke to her?”
“Yes. Allison warned him that Ryan would eventually try to marry you.”
I gripped the phone.
“Dad knew?”
“He suspected.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He planned to. Then his health declined.”
The answer felt incomplete.
“My father had months.”
“He was afraid direct confrontation would push you closer to Ryan.”
The same excuse Daniel had used.
Everyone had been managing my life while I walked blindly toward a trap.
“Is Allison still in Kentucky?”
“I don’t know. She vanished again after someone broke into her apartment.”
“Did you keep evidence from your investigation?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“My office files were stolen after Henry died.”
“By Ryan?”
“I could never prove it.”
“Do you know about Red Bird Event Supply?”
Jonathan inhaled sharply.
“Do not go near that storage facility.”
“Why?”
“Linda used it to keep leverage on people.”
“What kind of leverage?”
“Everything. Forged records. Private photographs. Audio recordings. She documented every person she paid and every person she threatened.”
“Then that could expose all of them.”
“If it still exists.”
A loud sound came through his phone.
Like a door opening.
Jonathan stopped speaking.
“Are you alone?” I asked.
No answer.
“Jonathan?”
A man’s voice spoke in the background.
“You should have stayed retired.”
The call ended.
I immediately called back.
No response.
Detective Greene dispatched officers to Jonathan’s address.
Then he warned us again to stay where we were.
Twenty minutes passed.
Thirty.
Beth paced between the windows.
Claire held Noah close.
Daniel kept checking the street.
Finally, Greene called.
Jonathan’s house was empty.
The back door had been forced open.
There was blood on the kitchen floor.
And his car was gone.
“We are treating his disappearance as suspicious,” Greene said.
“Could Ryan have reached him that quickly?” I asked.
“Ryan left the house shortly after making bail. His current location is unknown.”
My phone vibrated.
A video had been sent from an unfamiliar number.
I opened it.
Jonathan sat in a wooden chair.
His hands appeared bound behind him.
Someone stood beyond the camera.
Only a shadow was visible.
Jonathan looked directly into the lens.
“Emma, your father didn’t die from his illness.”
The video ended.
I could not move.
Daniel took the phone from my hand and replayed it.
“No,” he whispered.
Our father had spent two years fighting cancer.
En su certificado de defunción constaba un paro cardíaco causado por complicaciones derivadas del tratamiento.
—¿Qué quiere decir? —pregunté.
Nadie respondió.
Entonces llegó otro mensaje.
El remitente adjuntó una sola fotografía.
