Nobody moved for several seconds.
The house seemed to have changed shape around them.
The sunlight still poured through the tall windows. The pool outside still shimmered beneath the palms. Somewhere beyond the garden wall, a lawn mower hummed steadily.
But upstairs, behind a closed door, someone had just turned a lock.
Adrian whispered, “Call the police.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“Not yet.”
“Mum, someone is in the house.”
“I know.”
“Then why aren't you calling?”
“Because your father knew this might happen.”
Adrian stared at her.
“You keep saying things like that.”
“Because I listened when he spoke.”
Claire stepped closer.
“What exactly did he tell you?”
Evelyn looked at her.
For the first time since they arrived, Claire seemed genuinely frightened.
“I don't know everything.”
“Then tell us what you know.”
Evelyn considered the question.
She had promised Thomas she would wait.
He had made her promise twice.
But promises made to the dead could become dangerous when the living were standing in the same room.
“I know he believed someone had been entering his office.”
Adrian rubbed his face.
“Dad kept the office locked.”
“Yes.”
“Then how could someone get in?”
“I asked him that.”
“What did he say?”
“He said the person didn't need a key.”
Adrian looked toward the staircase.
Claire whispered, “Was there another entrance?”
“No.”
“Then how?”
Evelyn did not answer.
A second sound came from upstairs.
A drawer slammed.
Adrian immediately reached for his phone.
This time Evelyn did not stop him.
He called emergency services.
While he spoke quietly, Evelyn walked to the side table and lifted Thomas's framed photograph.
There was nothing unusual about it.
A silver frame.
A man in a gray suit.
A faint smile.
But Thomas had always hated having his photograph taken.
The only reason this particular picture had been enlarged was because Evelyn had teased him about looking like a politician.
She had nearly put it away after his funeral.
Something had stopped her.
She had never understood what.
Now she turned it over.
A small black rectangle had been taped to the back.
Evelyn stared.
“What is that?”
Adrian ended the call.
“What?”
She showed him.
He stepped closer.
The rectangle was an old memory card adapter.
Claire looked at it.
“Is that from a camera?”
“I don't know.”
Adrian reached for it.
Evelyn pulled it back.
“Don't.”
“Mum.”
“Your father told me never to give this to anyone until the office was opened.”
Adrian stared at her.
“You've had this the whole time?”
“I didn't know what it was.”
“You never checked?”
“He told me not to.”
“You always did everything he asked.”
“Yes.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“And now he's dead.”
Evelyn's eyes sharpened.
“Careful.”
Adrian looked ashamed almost immediately.
“I didn't mean—”
“You meant it.”
Claire touched his arm.
“Stop.”
He looked at her.
She shook her head.
Not now.
The sound of approaching sirens could be heard faintly in the distance.
Then Evelyn heard something else.
Footsteps.
Coming down the stairs.
Slow.
Measured.
Adrian moved in front of Claire.
Evelyn remained beside the table.
A man appeared at the top of the staircase.
He was in his fifties, wearing a pale linen shirt and dark trousers.
Evelyn recognized him.
“Martin.”
Martin Hale stopped.
He had been Thomas's business partner for almost twenty years.
His face was pale.
“What are you doing here?” Evelyn asked.
Martin looked at the three of them.
Then at the urn.
“I came to see you.”
“You came through the locked office.”
“I have a key.”
“Thomas told me you didn't.”
Martin's eyes flickered.
Adrian noticed.
“You lied.”
Martin descended the stairs.
“Your father asked me to come.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“My father has been dead nine days.”
Martin stopped.
“I know.”
“Then how did he ask you to come yesterday?”
Martin's silence answered before he did.
“I meant before he died.”
Evelyn watched him carefully.
“What were you doing in his office?”
Martin's face tightened.
“Looking for something.”
“The blue folder?”
He looked at her.
That was enough.
Adrian stepped forward.
“What is in it?”
Martin didn't answer.
Evelyn held up the memory card.
Martin's face changed completely.
“Where did you get that?”
Evelyn felt a chill move through her.
“Thomas left it.”
Martin looked at Adrian.
Then Claire.
Then back at Evelyn.
“You shouldn't have that.”
“Why?”
“Because it was supposed to be destroyed.”
Adrian's voice dropped.
“Destroyed?”
Martin closed his eyes briefly.
“Thomas discovered what we had been doing.”
Evelyn felt the room tilt.
“What had you been doing?”
Martin looked at her.
“I didn't do it alone.”
Adrian went rigid.
“Who?”
Martin said nothing.
A police car pulled into the driveway.
Two officers stepped out.
Martin suddenly moved toward the front door.
Adrian blocked him.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“No.”
Martin looked at him.
“You have no idea what you're involved in.”
Adrian's face tightened.
“Then explain it.”
Martin lowered his voice.
“Your father didn't trust you.”
Evelyn's heart sank.
Adrian stared at him.
“Why?”
Martin looked toward the photograph.
“Because he thought someone close to him was giving away information.”
Claire stepped backward.
“What information?”
Martin's eyes landed on her.
Evelyn noticed.
So did Adrian.
“What does that mean?” Adrian asked.
Martin did not answer.
The officers entered.
They separated everyone.
Martin gave them his identification and explained that he had been invited into the house by the deceased.
Evelyn said nothing.
She kept the memory card in her palm.
One officer asked if anything had been stolen.
Evelyn thought of Thomas.
His office.
The blue folder.
The warning.
“No,” she said.
Then she looked toward Martin.
“Not yet.”
The officers searched upstairs.
The office door stood open.
Inside, nothing appeared disturbed.
Thomas's desk remained exactly where it had always been.
His books.
His files.
His old leather chair.
The locked cabinet.
But one drawer was open.
Evelyn entered slowly.
She had not stepped into the room since Thomas died.
His scent still remained faintly in the air.
Cedar.
Coffee.
Aftershave.
She touched the back of his chair.
For a moment she nearly broke.
Then she noticed something beneath the desk.
A small piece of blue paper.
She picked it up.
Only three words were written on it.
CHECK THE FRAME.
Evelyn stared.
She looked at Thomas's photograph in her hand.
The memory card suddenly felt much heavier.
“Mrs. Mercer?” one of the officers called.
She turned.
“I found something.”
The officer approached.
Evelyn held out the paper.
He read it.
Then looked at the frame.
“What's on the card?”
“I don't know.”
“Then we'll need to examine it.”
Evelyn hesitated.
Martin was watching from the doorway.
Adrian stood behind the officer.
Claire stood farther back.
Every face in the room seemed to be waiting for the same answer.
Evelyn finally nodded.
“Yes.”
The officer took the card.
He examined it.
“There's no label.”
Evelyn looked at Thomas's photograph again.
The man in the picture seemed almost amused.
She remembered his final words.
If something happens to me, don't trust the first person who says they came to help.
At the time, she had thought he was being dramatic.
Now she wondered whether he had known exactly who would arrive first.
Click Here to continue read next: PART3: When the Hidden Recording Finally Played, Evelyn Heard Her Husband’s Voice—and Realized the Betrayal Was Closer Than She Had Feared
She Had Invited Them Into Her Husband’s House for One Last Goodbye, but the Young Couple Arrived Expecting Something Far More Valuable
Part 2 of 16
