Chapter 9: The Last Call Before My Father Died
I stared at my phone long after Marcus ended the call.
Ask your mother what she did the night he died.
The words seemed to echo through the study.
Mom stood beside the desk, one hand gripping the back of Dad's chair. Her face was pale, and her eyes had fixed on the dark computer screen.
Catherine moved first.
“Don't respond to him again,” she said.
“We'll preserve the call details and have the investigators examine the device.””
I barely heard her.
I was looking at Mom.
“Did you go to Dad's office the night he died?””
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.””
The answer came so quietly that I almost missed it.
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?””
Mom sat down slowly.
For eleven years, she had carried the story of my father's death as though it were a fragile object she was afraid to drop. Now it seemed she had been carrying another story beneath it.
“I went to his office because he called me,” she said.
“He was frightened. He told me he had found something in Richard's records and needed me to bring him a folder from home.””
“What folder?””
“The one containing the original property deed and our family financial documents.””
I looked at Catherine.
She was listening carefully, taking notes.
Mom continued.
“When I arrived, your father was arguing with someone. I couldn't see the person's face through the glass partition. I heard him say that he wouldn't sign anything and that he was going to the authorities in the morning.””
My hands grew cold.
“What happened next?””
“I knocked. The argument stopped. Your father opened the door and told me to go home.””
“Did you see who he was arguing with?””
Mom shook her head.
“No. But I heard the other person say, 'You have no idea what you've set in motion.''”
Catherine looked up.
“Did Daniel seem physically unwell?””
“No. He was angry, but he was standing normally. He walked me to the elevator and told me he loved me.””
Mom's voice broke.
“He said he'd be home before breakfast.””
I sat beside her.
“What happened after you left?””
“I went home. About forty minutes later, he called me again. He said someone had followed him out of the building. He told me to lock the doors and not answer if anyone came.””
“Did he say who was following him?””
“No. The call ended suddenly. I tried calling back, but it went straight to voicemail.””
I could barely breathe.
“Why didn't you tell the police?””
“I did. I told them about the calls and the argument. But when they questioned the office staff, no one admitted seeing anything unusual. The security footage from that night was missing.””
Catherine's pen stopped.
“Missing?””
Mom nodded.
“The building manager said the system had malfunctioned.””
I thought of Marcus arriving at Northstar the morning after Dad died, calmly announcing that the matter was closed.
I thought of Richard's warning that someone close to Dad might have been involved.
And I thought of the file that had appeared on the computer.
Your father was murdered.
“Mom,” I whispered, “why did you never tell me about the phone calls?””
She took my hand.
“Because you were seventeen. You had just lost your father, and every night you woke up crying. I thought telling you that someone might have hurt him would destroy whatever peace you had left.””
I wanted to be angry.
Part of me was angry.
But when I looked at her, I saw a woman who had spent eleven years trying to protect her daughter from a truth she couldn't prove.
I leaned forward and rested my forehead against hers.
“We're going to find out what happened.””
Catherine stood.
“First, we need the original call records and the computer's contents. The investigators can request the old telephone records if they're still available. We'll also ask the hospital for the complete medical report.””
Mom wiped her eyes.
“What if the report says he really did die of a heart attack?””
“Then we'll know what the medical evidence supports,” Catherine replied.
“But we won't assume the worst or accept an unsupported explanation. We follow the evidence.””
That evening, an investigator named Detective Harris arrived at the house.
He had been assigned to review the suspected fraud after the officers documented Marcus's unauthorized entry.
Catherine gave him copies of the documents, the photograph left on Mom's pillow, and the note from Dad's notebook.
I explained the message that had appeared on the computer screen.
Detective Harris listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he folded his hands.
“I'm going to be careful about this,” he said.
“A suspicious death, a fraudulent loan, and a forged property transfer may be related, but we need evidence connecting them. The computer file is a lead, not proof.””
“I understand.””
“Did you recognize the handwriting on the note?””
“Yes. It was my father's.””
“And the file itself?””
“I don't know who created it.””
Detective Harris nodded.
“We'll have the device examined by a digital forensic specialist. Do not turn it back on or connect it to any network.””
He then asked Mom to describe the last time she had seen my father alive.
As she spoke, I watched Detective Harris's expression change.
“Mrs. Bennett,” he said, “did your husband have any enemies outside the business?””
Mom hesitated.
“He had a disagreement with a man named Victor Sloane. Victor was a consultant who worked with Richard.””
Detective Harris wrote down the name.
“Do you know where he is now?””
“No.””
The detective glanced at me.
“Does that name mean anything to you?””
I shook my head.
“No.””
But as he gathered his notes, I remembered something from the wedding.
The photograph of Marcus and Vanessa in Mom's living room.
In the background, on the bookshelf, stood a small framed picture of Dad at a charity event. Beside him was a man with silver hair and a distinctive scar running from his left temple toward his ear.
I had seen that scar before.
I looked at the photograph on my phone from the Northstar building.
Richard Hale had no scar.
But the man standing beside Dad in the old company picture did.
I pulled up the image I had taken of Dad's metal box contents and enlarged the photograph.
The man was standing behind Richard, half hidden by the edge of the frame.
I showed Detective Harris.
“Who is this?””
He studied the image.
“I don't recognize him.””
I turned to Mom.
“Is this Victor Sloane?””
She leaned closer.
Her breath caught.
“Yes.””
I felt a chill spread through me.
The man in the photograph was the same man I had seen in the background of the picture from my mother's house. I had assumed he was a family friend, someone who had visited years ago.
Now I wondered whether he had been watching us for far longer than we realized.
Detective Harris asked for the original photograph and added Victor's name to the investigation.
Before he left, he gave us a direct warning.
“Until we know who is behind these threats, do not meet anyone alone. If you receive another message, preserve it and contact us immediately.””
I promised I would.
But later that night, while Mom slept in the guest room, I returned to Dad's study and opened the photograph of the Northstar building.
I zoomed in on Victor's face.
Something about his expression bothered me.
He wasn't looking at the camera.
He was looking at my father.
And Dad wasn't smiling.
I enlarged the image again.
A small detail emerged in the corner: a paper folder tucked beneath Victor's arm.
On its cover was the Northstar logo.
Beneath it, someone had written a date.
The date of my father's death.
My phone vibrated.
A new email had arrived from Laura Mitchell, the former Northstar accountant.
It contained three scanned emails and a short message.
Nia, I found these in my old backup files. I should have given them to investigators years ago. I'm sorry.
I opened the first email.
It had been sent from Victor Sloane's company account to Richard Hale, with Marcus copied.
The subject line read:
*Bennett problem — final instructions.*
My hands began to tremble.
The email contained only a few lines.
Daniel has the original ledger. He intends to disclose everything tomorrow morning. The account must be secured tonight. No mistakes this time.
The second email was dated the following morning.
The situation is under control. The official report will state that Daniel suffered a fatal cardiac event. Remove all remaining references to the original ledger.
The third email had no subject line.
It was sent from Marcus's personal account.
My father wants this finished. Victor says the family won't be a problem after tonight.
I read the sentence again.
Then again.
My chest felt too tight for air.
Marcus hadn't simply discovered his father's secrets.
He had been involved in the cover-up, at least according to the emails.
I forwarded the files to Catherine and Detective Harris, then sat motionless in the dark.
A few minutes later, Catherine called.
“Nia, I've received the emails. Don't contact Marcus. The investigators will verify their authenticity and investigate the people named.””
“Does this mean he helped murder my father?””
“It means the emails are serious evidence that requires examination. We cannot establish that conclusion from the messages alone.””
I swallowed.
“What if he did?””
Catherine's voice softened.
“Then the truth will be established through evidence, not through his threats.””
After the call, I went to check on Mom.
She was awake, sitting on the edge of the guest bed.
“I heard you talking,” she said.
I sat beside her.
“Laura found old emails from Northstar. Marcus's name is on them.””
Mom stared at me.
“What do they say?””
I hesitated.
“They suggest he knew what happened the night Dad died.””
She covered her mouth.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then Mom reached beneath her pillow and pulled out a small envelope.
“I should have given you this years ago.””
I looked at it.
“What is it?””
“Your father's final letter to me. I found it inside his desk after he died. I couldn't bring myself to read it until a few days later.””
“Why didn't you tell me about it?””
“Because it mentioned the business, and I was afraid someone would come after you if I told you what it said.””
She handed me the envelope.
The paper was yellowed, and the seal had been opened carefully.
I unfolded the letter.
Evelyn, if I cannot come home tonight, remember that the house is yours and Nia's future is secure. Do not trust Victor Sloane. He knows about the account. If he approaches you, tell him nothing.
My eyes moved to the final paragraph.
There is one person I fear may already be working with him. I have tried to believe he can still choose the right thing, but I no longer know.
There was no name.
Only a final line.
If Nia ever learns the truth, tell her that I loved her enough to leave her a way out.
I looked up at Mom.
“What way out?””
She shook her head.
“I never knew.””
My phone vibrated again.
This time, the message came from an unfamiliar number.
It contained a photograph of the letter in my hands.
Someone had taken the picture from outside the guest room window.
Beneath it was a single sentence.
Now you know what your father feared. Tomorrow, you'll learn what your mother has been hiding.
I rushed to the window.
The street outside was empty.
May you like
But across the road, beneath the streetlight, a black sedan sat with its headlights off.
And behind the windshield, a man with a scar running from his left temple to his ear was watching our house.
