PART 4
For a moment, I couldn’t move.
The basement seemed to shrink around me.
Robert.
Murdered.
The word didn’t fit inside my mind.
My husband had died four years earlier.
The police had told me it was an accident.
A wet road.
A sudden loss of control.
A guardrail.
A funeral.
A coffin.
Four years of grief.
Four years of believing that the worst thing that had ever happened to me was losing the man I loved.
And now a stranger was standing in my basement telling me that none of it had been true.
I stared at him.
“You’re lying.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I wish I were.”
“My husband died in a car accident.”
“That is what they wanted everyone to believe.”
“Who?”
He looked toward the staircase.
“Your son.”
I felt a wave of anger.
“No.”
“Margaret—”
“No.”
I stepped toward him.
“You don’t get to walk into my home and accuse my son of murdering his father.”
“I didn’t say Nathan killed Robert.”
“You said he knows why.”
“He does.”
“Then explain.”
Daniel reached into his coat and pulled out a small envelope.
He handed it to me.
“Your husband gave this to me two days before he died.”
I didn’t take it.
“Why?”
“Because he knew something was coming.”
I stared at the envelope.
My hands began shaking.
Finally, I took it.
My name was written across the front.
In Robert’s handwriting.
Margaret.
I hadn’t seen that handwriting in four years.
The sight alone nearly broke me.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
My eyes moved across the words.
Margaret,
If you’re reading this, something has happened to me.
Don’t trust anyone who tells you my death was an accident.
Most importantly, don’t trust the people who suddenly become interested in our finances, our house, or Nathan’s future.
There is something beneath the garage.
You will know what to look for.
The red ledger.
I love you.
Robert.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
I looked at Daniel.
“What is the red ledger?”
“The reason your husband died.”
“What is in it?”
“Names.”
“Whose names?”
“People who were stealing millions of dollars.”
I stared at him.
“From where?”
“Government contracts. Construction projects. Charities. Pension funds.”
I felt dizzy.
“Robert was involved?”
Daniel nodded.
“At first.”
I closed my eyes.
“No.”
“He discovered what they were doing.”
“And tried to stop them?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why they killed him?”
“Yes.”
“Who are they?”
Daniel looked at me.
“People with money.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It is when you’re dealing with men who can make police reports disappear and buy silence with a single phone call.”
I felt the envelope tremble in my fingers.
“And Nathan?”
“He was used.”
“You’re telling me my son was forced to poison me?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
“That isn’t an answer either.”
“He owed them money.”
“I know.”
“Then you know enough.”
I shook my head.
“No. I don’t.”
Daniel sighed.
“Your son didn’t come up with the chocolate plan.”
“Who did?”
“The people he owed.”
“And if I had eaten the chocolates?”
“You would have died.”
I felt my stomach turn.
“Why didn’t they simply kill me themselves?”
“Because your death had to look like something else.”
“What?”
“A natural event.”
He pointed toward the envelope.
“Your medical records show you have a mild heart condition.”
I stared at him.
I did have occasional heart palpitations.
Nothing serious.
At least that’s what my doctor had always told me.
“The poison would have been blamed on your heart.”
I sat down on the basement steps.
For several seconds, I simply stared at the floor.
I thought of Nathan as a little boy.
The day Robert and I brought him home.
His first Christmas.
His first bicycle.
His first day of school.
Every birthday.
Every scraped knee.
Every bedtime story.
I had spent my entire life believing that love could protect a child from the worst things in the world.
I had been wrong.
Sometimes the people you love most become the easiest people for someone else to manipulate.
“Where is Nathan now?”
Daniel looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“Then find him.”
“I’ve been trying.”
I looked up.
“Why?”
“Because your husband asked me to protect you.”
The words silenced me.
“You knew Robert?”
“For twenty-two years.”
“Who are you?”
Daniel gave a tired smile.
“I worked with him.”
“Doing what?”
“Investigations.”
I frowned.
“Robert was an accountant.”
“He was also very good at finding money that other people wanted hidden.”
Suddenly, everything began to make sense.
Robert had always been meticulous.
He kept records of everything.
He hated owing anyone money.
He never trusted banks completely.
And he had always said:
“People lie. Numbers don’t.”
I remembered it now.
I remembered the nights he’d sit in his office long after I went to bed.
The spreadsheets.
The folders.
The phone calls he refused to discuss.
I had thought he was working too much.
Maybe he had been trying to save us.
“Where is the ledger?”
Daniel looked toward the garage.
“Your husband hid it.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I believe you’re the only person who can find it.”
I stood.
“Why me?”
“Because Robert designed the hiding place around you.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“He knew if he told you directly, someone could force you to reveal it.”
“So he left clues.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t he tell me before he died?”
“Because he didn’t know who he could trust.”
I thought of Nathan.
My own son.
The child I had raised.
My chest hurt.
“Does Nathan know where it is?”
Daniel hesitated.
“I think he suspects.”
“That’s why they came after me.”
“Yes.”
“Because they think I know.”
“Yes.”
I looked toward the garage.
“Then let’s find it.”
We searched for almost an hour.
Nothing.
Old boxes.
Tools.
Christmas decorations.
Robert’s workbench.
Then I remembered something.
The night before he died, Robert had been unusually quiet.
He had kissed me before bed.
Then he’d said,
“Margaret, if you ever feel like something doesn’t belong where it is, move it.”
At the time, I’d laughed.
“That’s your big advice?”
He’d smiled.
“Trust your instincts.”
I looked around the garage.
Something didn’t belong.
The workbench.
It had always been against the far wall.
But one section of flooring beneath it looked newer.
I called Daniel.
“Help me move this.”
Together, we pushed it aside.
Underneath was a square metal plate.
My heart began pounding.
Daniel knelt.
“This is it.”
He pried it open.
Inside was a small black safe.
I stared at it.
There was no combination.
Only a fingerprint scanner.
Daniel looked at me.
“Robert’s fingerprints won’t work.”
I felt something strange.
I placed my thumb against the scanner.
The light turned green.
The safe clicked.
I stared.
“He used your fingerprint.”
I opened it.
Inside was the red ledger.
A flash drive.
And dozens of photographs.
I picked up the ledger.
The first page contained names.
The second contained dates.
The third contained amounts.
Millions.
Payments.
Bribes.
Fake companies.
Political donations.
Construction contracts.
Then I saw a name I recognized.
Nathan Ellis.
My son.
I felt as though the floor had disappeared beneath me.
“No.”
CONTINUE READ NEXT PART… 👇
