The front door shuddered beneath another blow.
“Mom?”
Eleanor stared at the wood.
She knew that voice.
Not from a photograph. Not from an old recording. Not from a memory distorted by eleven years of grief.
It was Michael.
Daniel grabbed her shoulder.
“Back door. Now.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“He's outside.”
“That doesn't mean we open the door.”
Victor's voice came from the other side.
“Eleanor, listen to me. Michael is not alone.”
The words stopped her.
Daniel looked toward the windows.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes.”
A second voice called from outside.
“Mom, it's me. Please.”
Eleanor moved toward the door.
Daniel stepped in front of her.
“Wait.”
She stared at him.
“If that's really Michael, he knows something only your son would know.”
“He called me Mom.”
“That isn't enough.”
Eleanor's eyes narrowed.
“You don't have children.”
“No.”
“You don't understand.”
“I understand that someone has been lying to you for eleven years.”
The door shook again.
Michael shouted, “Mom, don't let Victor inside!”
Victor answered immediately.
“You see what he's doing? He's trying to make you afraid of me.”
Daniel looked at Eleanor.
“Ask him something.”
“What?”
“Something personal.”
Eleanor swallowed.
Then she raised her voice.
“Michael! What did you break when you were twelve?”
There was a pause.
Then came the answer.
“The birdhouse.”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Daniel looked at her.
Michael continued.
“I broke it because Dad told me not to climb the roof. I climbed it anyway. You made me sit at the kitchen table until dinner.”
Eleanor's hand went to her mouth.
Nobody else knew that.
Or almost nobody.
She looked at Daniel.
“That was him.”
Daniel still didn't move.
“Maybe.”
Eleanor stared at him.
“What else do you need?”
“I need to know why he brought Victor here.”
She turned back toward the door.
“Michael. Why is Victor with you?”
No answer.
Then Michael spoke.
“He followed me.”
Victor laughed softly.
“That is not what happened.”
Michael shouted, “Mom, don't listen to him!”
Daniel moved toward the kitchen.
“There is another way out.”
Eleanor followed.
They reached the back door.
Before Daniel opened it, Michael called again.
“Mom, the fire wasn't an accident.”
Eleanor froze.
Daniel looked at her.
“What fire?”
“The one you remembered.”
Eleanor's breathing became shallow.
Michael continued.
“Dad started it himself.”
She turned slowly.
“No.”
“He did it because he knew Victor was coming.”
The memory returned in fragments.
Smoke.
Robert's hand against the wall.
A broken lamp.
Michael yelling.
Victor's cane striking the floor.
Then darkness.
Eleanor pressed both hands against her temples.
“Why would Robert start a fire?”
Michael answered through the door.
“To destroy something.”
“What?”
“The records.”
Daniel looked at the notebook.
“Then why did he leave the notebook?”
Michael was silent.
Daniel raised his voice.
“Michael, why?”
A few seconds passed.
Then Michael said, “Because the notebook wasn't the real record.”
Eleanor looked at Daniel.
“What does that mean?”
“The notebook was bait.”
Victor's voice came immediately.
“Finally.”
The back door opened.
Michael stood there.
Eleanor almost didn't recognize him.
He looked thinner than she remembered, his face rough with several days of stubble, one cheek bruised and his lower lip split. He wore a dark jacket over a gray shirt.
But his eyes were the same.
He looked at his mother.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Eleanor crossed the room and struck him across the chest with both hands.
“You let me believe you were dead.”
Michael absorbed the blows.
“I know.”
“You let me mourn you.”
“I know.”
“You sent me to an airport with a suitcase you didn't pack.”
“I didn't send you.”
Eleanor stopped.
Michael looked at Daniel.
“You did the right thing.”
Daniel frowned.
“What?”
“Stopping her from boarding.”
Eleanor stared at her son.
“Then who sent me?”
Michael shook his head.
“Not who.”
“What?”
“Why.”
Victor's cane struck the floor outside.
“Enough.”
Michael turned.
“Stay outside.”
Victor's voice hardened.
“You don't give orders anymore.”
Michael looked back at Eleanor.
“Mom, we have minutes.”
“For what?”
“Before the police arrive.”
Daniel frowned.
“You called them?”
Michael shook his head.
“No.”
“Then why would they come?”
“Because Victor did.”
Silence.
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“To make sure I'm blamed.”
Eleanor looked at Victor through the doorway.
He stood beneath the porch light, one hand resting on his cane.
He didn't look frightened.
He looked patient.
Michael lowered his voice.
“He needs the notebook because he thinks it contains the account numbers.”
“It doesn't,” Daniel said.
Michael looked at him.
“You opened it.”
“Yes.”
“Then you saw the missing pages.”
Daniel nodded.
Michael glanced at his mother.
“Those pages were removed eleven years ago.”
“By whom?”
“Me.”
Eleanor stared.
“You?”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“You sold the cabin.”
“I needed Victor to believe the evidence was gone.”
“You told me the notebook had been burned.”
“I needed him to believe that too.”
Eleanor's voice broke.
“And Robert?”
Michael looked down.
“I didn't know if Dad survived.”
She went completely still.
“What?”
Michael swallowed.
“When the fire started, Victor came after him. Dad told me to get you out.”
“I remember you shouting.”
“I was trying to reach you.”
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“You knew.”
“I knew something happened.”
“Did you see your father?”
Michael hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Was he alive?”
“For a few minutes.”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Victor found us.”
Michael looked toward the porch.
“He told me Dad was dead. He showed me blood. He told me if I spoke, you'd be next.”
Eleanor's anger softened into something heavier.
Daniel stepped closer.
“What happened after the fire?”
Michael reached into his jacket.
He removed a small photograph.
Robert.
Standing outside the old house.
The same photograph Eleanor had seen at the airport.
“I found this three years ago.”
Eleanor took it.
“Where?”
“In a storage unit registered under Victor's name.”
Daniel stared.
“You've been investigating him all this time.”
Michael nodded.
“And Sarah Bell?”
Michael looked toward Victor.
“Alive.”
Eleanor's face tightened.
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“Why did I see her in that photograph?”
“Because she took it.”
Daniel understood.
“She helped you.”
“Yes.”
“What about Robert?”
Michael didn't answer.
Eleanor looked at him.
“Michael.”
He closed his eyes.
“Dad survived the fire.”
The words seemed to drain the air from the room.
Eleanor gripped the photograph.
“Where is he?”
Michael looked toward the dark trees.
“He's been hiding.”
“From Victor?”
“From everyone.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew the second account could destroy more than Victor.”
Daniel frowned.
“What second account?”
Michael looked at the blue notebook.
“The account was used to move money from Robert's clients into shell companies.”
“Victor's?”
“Yes.”
“And Robert discovered it?”
“He discovered something worse.”
Michael reached into his jacket again.
This time he pulled out a folded ledger.
“He discovered his own signature on transactions he never authorized.”
Daniel took it.
The signatures were nearly identical.
“Forgery.”
Michael nodded.
“Victor had been preparing to frame him.”
Eleanor stared at the papers.
“Then why did Robert disappear?”
Michael looked at her.
“Because he realized someone inside his company was helping Victor.”
“Who?”
Michael hesitated.
Then he said, “Sarah.”
Eleanor's eyes widened.
“No.”
“She wasn't working for Victor willingly.”
“What does that mean?”
“She was being threatened.”
“By whom?”
Michael looked at the doorway.
“Victor.”
Victor stepped inside.
Daniel immediately moved between him and Eleanor.
Victor smiled faintly.
“You've always been dramatic, Michael.”
Michael's expression hardened.
“You're finished.”
Victor laughed.
“No. I'm finally close.”
He looked at Eleanor.
“Mrs. Whitmore, you have something that belongs to me.”
Eleanor held the notebook tighter.
“You murdered my husband.”
Victor's face changed.
“No.”
“You lied about him.”
“I protected him.”
“From what?”
Victor's eyes moved toward Michael.
“From his own son.”
Michael stepped forward.
“Don't.”
Victor raised his cane.
A sharp metallic click came from its handle.
Daniel noticed.
“What's inside that?”
Victor smiled.
“Something you won't need to worry about.”
Outside, sirens began to rise in the distance.
Victor's smile disappeared.
Michael looked at Eleanor.
“Mom, give me the notebook.”
She hesitated.
“Why?”
“Because it contains the one thing Victor doesn't know.”
Daniel looked at Michael.
“What?”
Michael answered quietly.
“The name of the person who actually owns the second account.”
The sirens grew louder.
Victor turned toward the door.
Eleanor opened the notebook.
A final page had appeared behind the missing section.
She had never seen it before.
At the top was one name.
ROBERT WHITMORE.
Beneath it was a date from two weeks earlier.
And beneath that:
I AM STILL HERE.
Click Here to continue read next: PART6: The Name Inside the Notebook Changed Everything, Yet Eleanor Still Had One Question No Document Could Answer About Robert
She Had Been Waiting Beside the Red Suitcase for Nearly an Hour When a Stranger Finally Asked Why She Was Crying
Part 5 of 16
