Daniel drove without speaking.
He took three turns that made no sense, crossed a bridge, and pulled into a grocery store parking lot crowded enough to make surveillance difficult. He parked beside a row of delivery trucks and shut off the engine.
Claire turned toward him.
“Start at the beginning.”
Daniel stared through the windshield.
“The night Michael died, he called me.”
“What time?”
“11:18.”
“You remember the exact time?”
“I remember because I looked at the clock.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me to come to his office.”
“Why?”
“He wouldn't say.”
Claire waited.
“He sounded frightened.”
“What did you do?”
“I drove there.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Daniel swallowed.
“When I arrived, the office lights were on. His car was outside.”
“But he was dead?”
“Not yet.”
Claire's breathing changed.
“What happened?”
“I found him in the back room.”
“Was he injured?”
“Yes.”
“How badly?”
“Bad enough that I thought he wouldn't survive.”
“Did you call an ambulance?”
“I tried.”
Daniel stopped.
Claire looked at him.
“You tried?”
“My phone was dead.”
“You didn't have a landline?”
“The line had been cut.”
Claire stared.
“So what did you do?”
“I used Michael's phone.”
“Then?”
“He grabbed my arm.”
Daniel's voice became quieter.
“He told me not to call the police.”
“Why?”
“He said they were already involved.”
Claire shook her head.
“That's impossible.”
“I thought so too.”
“What happened next?”
“Someone came through the front door.”
Claire went still.
“Who?”
“I never saw his face.”
“Then how do you know it was someone?”
“Because Michael heard the door.”
Daniel's hands tightened.
“He told me to hide.”
Claire whispered, “You hid?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Inside a storage closet.”
“And you left your brother there?”
“I didn't have a choice.”
“You could have helped him.”
“I know.”
Daniel's eyes filled, but he blinked it away.
“I heard them arguing.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“What did they say?”
“One sentence.”
“What sentence?”
Daniel looked at her.
“He said, ‘You were supposed to keep your mouth shut.’”
Claire felt a chill move across her shoulders.
“Who said it?”
“I don't know.”
“What happened?”
“A crash.”
“Then?”
“Silence.”
Daniel took a breath.
“When I came out, Michael was dead.”
Claire looked down.
“Did you call the police then?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
“They found no evidence of another person.”
“But you knew someone had been there.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell them?”
Daniel looked ashamed.
“Because I found something in Michael's hand.”
“What?”
“A piece of pink paper.”
Claire's eyes widened.
“The notices?”
“No. It was a receipt.”
“From where?”
“An accounting office.”
Claire stared.
“Martin?”
Daniel nodded.
“Martin's company.”
The connection between the past and present settled heavily between them.
Claire thought of the pink notices.
The forged signatures.
The false death record.
The mysterious payments.
The account opened in her name.
And now Michael.
“You think Martin killed him?”
“I don't know.”
“But you suspected him.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you confront him?”
“I did.”
“What happened?”
“He told me Michael had been stealing from the company.”
Claire's expression changed.
“Was he?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I checked the accounts myself.”
“And?”
“The missing money wasn't missing.”
Claire stared.
“It had been transferred.”
“To where?”
“Multiple accounts.”
“Whose?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Accounts connected to people who didn't exist.”
Claire frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Names that appeared on paperwork but had no real business addresses. Shell companies, I think.”
“Why didn't you report it?”
“I tried.”
“To whom?”
“The police.”
“And?”
“They told me there wasn't enough evidence.”
Claire leaned back.
“So you stopped.”
“No.”
Daniel looked toward the parking lot.
“I started collecting evidence.”
He opened the glove compartment.
Inside was a thin black notebook.
Claire had never seen it.
“What is that?”
“Everything I found.”
She opened it.
Dates.
Names.
Bank accounts.
Vehicle plates.
Phone numbers.
Addresses.
There were pages filled with Daniel's handwriting.
Claire turned through them.
Then she stopped.
A name appeared again and again.
Evelyn Mercer.
She looked at her father.
“Mom?”
Daniel nodded.
“Why is Mom's name here?”
“Because Martin used her.”
Claire stared at the page.
Her mother's death had always been explained as a sudden medical event. Daniel had never questioned it.
Or so Claire thought.
“What did he use?”
“Her identity.”
Claire's fingers trembled.
“For what?”
“I don't know.”
“Dad.”
“I found her name connected to one of the same companies.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“You knew this last year?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
“I didn't have proof.”
Claire closed the notebook.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
“No. It's the reason you keep everyone in the dark.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You think I wanted this?”
“I think you thought silence would protect us.”
“And I was wrong.”
“Yes.”
The word hung between them.
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
Claire opened the notebook again.
One page contained a series of payments.
The dates stretched over twelve years.
Her mother's name appeared beside several.
Then Michael's.
Then Daniel's.
Three family members.
Three identities.
Three different sets of records.
Claire looked up.
“This is bigger than your business.”
“I know.”
“Who else knew?”
Daniel hesitated.
Claire's stomach dropped.
“Dad.”
“There was one person.”
“Who?”
“Your mother's sister.”
“Aunt Susan?”
Daniel nodded.
“She helped me investigate after Michael died.”
“What happened to her?”
“She moved away.”
“Why?”
“She said someone was watching her.”
Claire's voice became almost inaudible.
“Where is she now?”
“I don't know.”
“You haven't spoken to her?”
“Not in eight years.”
Claire stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because she told me never to call her again.”
A notification sounded from Daniel's phone.
Both looked down.
A voicemail.
Unknown number.
Daniel pressed play.
Static filled the truck.
Then a woman's voice.
Older.
Shaking.
“Daniel, if this is still your number, listen carefully.”
Claire looked at her father.
The recording continued.
“Do not trust Martin Cole.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
The woman continued.
“He didn't start this.”
Claire's eyes widened.
“He inherited it.”
A pause.
“Your brother found the records. Your wife found the money. And now they've come for you.”
The recording ended.
Claire stared at the phone.
“That's Aunt Susan.”
Daniel nodded.
“She knows.”
The phone rang again.
This time, the caller ID displayed a number Claire recognized.
Her mother's old phone number.
She looked at Daniel.
“That number hasn't been active for years.”
Daniel did not move.
The phone continued ringing.
Claire reached toward it.
“Don't,” Daniel said.
She stopped.
The call ended.
A message appeared immediately.
You finally understand why the pink letters were sent.
Claire read it aloud.
“Why?”
Another message arrived.
Because they needed you to believe the debt was yours.
Daniel's face hardened.
“What debt?”
Claire looked at him.
“You don't know?”
He shook his head.
Then his phone received an email.
The subject line contained only one word.
MICHAEL.
Daniel opened it.
There was a scanned photograph.
It showed Michael standing beside a desk.
Behind him was a filing cabinet.
On the desk lay several documents.
Claire zoomed in.
One page had a familiar signature.
Her father's.
Another had her mother's.
A third had Michael's.
And beneath them was a corporate seal.
Claire whispered, “Those aren't signatures.”
Daniel looked closer.
“They are.”
“No.”
She pointed.
“Look at the dates.”
Daniel read them.
His face drained.
All three documents had been signed on the same day.
A day when his mother had already been dead for two years.
A day when Michael had been overseas.
A day when Daniel had been at Claire's graduation.
Claire slowly lowered the phone.
“Someone has been manufacturing our family history.”
Daniel stared at the photograph.
Then he saw something in the corner.
A reflection in the glass cabinet behind Michael.
A man standing in the doorway.
The face was partly hidden.
But the watch on his wrist was visible.
Daniel recognized it.
He had seen that watch every Sunday for years.
His hands began to shake.
Claire noticed.
“Who is it?”
Daniel did not answer.
“Dad.”
He finally looked at her.
“It's someone we know.”
“Who?”
Daniel turned the phone toward her.
Claire stared at the reflection.
The watch belonged to the man who had been Daniel's closest business partner for seventeen years.
The man who had helped raise money for Daniel's company.
The man Daniel had trusted enough to give access to every account.
Martin Cole was not standing in the doorway.
Someone else was.
Claire looked at her father.
“Who is that?”
Daniel's voice broke.
“My best friend.”
Click Here to continue read next: PART5: The Man in the Reflection Had Been Watching Daniel for Years, and the Evidence in His Hands Forced Father and Daughter to Question Everyone They Trusted
The Morning Three Pink Notices Arrived, Daniel Learned That the Number on a Government Letter Could Change Everything His Family Thought It Knew
Part 4 of 16
