Chapter 8: The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Dad made three calls.
The first was to the hospital.
The second was to the funeral home.
The third was to the detective who had handled my mother's death.
Every call made the same thing worse.
The hospital had a record of my mother's admission.
They had a record of her treatment.
They had a record of her condition becoming critical.
But they had no official death certificate.
The funeral home had prepared a service using paperwork submitted by a private medical transport company.
And the detective remembered the case.
But when Dad asked who had identified my mother's body, there was a long silence.
“No one,” Dad whispered.
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?””
He ended the call.
Then he sat at the kitchen table and buried his face in his hands.
Madison was beside me.
Vanessa stood near the window.
Finally, Dad looked up.
“The body was never formally identified.””
I shook my head.
“But we went to the funeral.””
“I know.””
“I saw Mom.””
“You saw a casket.””
“But—”
“I know.””
His voice cracked.
“I know, Ethan.””
I didn't understand.
For three years, I had believed my mother was dead.
I had cried at her funeral.
I had slept beside her photograph.
I had whispered goodnight to her picture when Dad wasn't looking.
Now Dad was telling me that none of it made sense.
“Why didn't you check?””
He closed his eyes.
“Because I trusted the doctors. I trusted the funeral home. I trusted the paperwork.””
“Who brought the paperwork?””
“A man from a transport company.””
“Daniel?””
Dad shook his head.
“No.””
“Then who?””
“I don't remember.””
Vanessa spoke from the window.
“I do.””
Everyone turned.
She looked terrified.
“His name was Robert.””
Dad stared at her.
“Robert who?””
“I don't know.””
“Where did you meet him?””
“I didn't.””
“Then how do you remember his name?””
Vanessa swallowed.
“Laura told me.””
Dad stood.
“When?””
“Before she died.””
“You're saying Laura knew her own death would be faked?””
“No.””
Vanessa looked toward me.
“She told me she might disappear.””
Dad froze.
“Why?””
“Because someone was trying to kill her.””
Silence filled the kitchen.
Madison whispered, “Mom…”
Vanessa continued.
“She believed someone had discovered what she was investigating.””
Dad's voice was barely controlled.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“She told me not to.””
“You keep hiding behind her.””
“Because I was afraid\!””
“Of Laura?””
“No.””
“Then who?””
Vanessa looked at the photograph.
“Whoever was behind the account.””
Dad stepped closer.
“What account?””
“The one she found.””
Dad's face tightened.
“You knew about the missing money before today.””
“Yes.””
“How much?””
“More than ten thousand.””
“How much?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don't know exactly.””
“Guess.””
“Millions.””
The word hit the room like a gunshot.
I stared at her.
“Millions?””
Dad sat down again.
“Where?””
“I don't know.””
“How could you know about millions without knowing where?””
“Because Laura showed me records.””
Dad looked at the red folder.
“What records?””
“Companies.””
“What companies?””
Vanessa gave him a name.
Dad's expression changed immediately.
I recognized it.
He had heard the name before.
“What?”” I asked.
Dad shook his head.
“Nothing.””
“Dad.””
He looked at me.
“That company bought several cars from my restoration business.””
Vanessa nodded.
“And then sold them again.””
Dad frowned.
“To whom?””
“I don't know.””
“You said Laura investigated them.””
“Yes.””
“What did she discover?””
“That money was being moved through fake sales.””
Dad stared at the table.
My mother's warning suddenly made sense.
The missing account.
The companies.
The ledger.
Daniel.
Maybe the money wasn't just money.
Maybe it was evidence.
Dad grabbed his laptop.
He opened the business records.
Rows of transactions filled the screen.
I didn't understand most of them.
But Dad did.
He scrolled rapidly.
“Here.””
He pointed.
A company had purchased six vintage cars.
Dad shook his head.
“I never sold these.””
Vanessa moved closer.
“What?””
“These transactions were recorded under my business.””
“But you didn't make them?””
“No.””
Dad kept scrolling.
There were dozens.
Then hundreds.
He leaned back.
Someone had been using his business to move money.
My mother had found it.
She had tried to stop it.
And then she disappeared.
Dad whispered, “Laura wasn't investigating an inheritance.””
He looked at me.
“She was investigating fraud.””
Vanessa nodded.
“She told me that.””
“Why did she hide it from me?””
“She thought you were being watched.””
“By whom?””
“I don't know.””
Dad's phone buzzed.
A message.
He opened it.
His face changed.
“What?””
He handed me the phone.
It was a text from an unknown number.
*You finally found the ledger.*
Dad stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
*Now ask Vanessa what she did with it.*
Dad looked at Vanessa.
She began shaking her head.
“I didn't take it.””
“You said you gave it to Daniel.””
“I gave him the key.””
“Where was the ledger?””
“In the old storage unit.””
Dad's eyes narrowed.
“What storage unit?””
“Your father’s.””
Dad stood abruptly.
“You knew about that?””
“Laura told me.””
“Where?””
“Behind the old garage.””
Dad grabbed his jacket.
“Stay here.””
Vanessa blocked him.
“Michael, don't go.””
“Move.””
“You don't understand. If Daniel sent that message, he knows where the ledger is.””
“Exactly.””
“He wants you to go there.””
“I know.””
“It's a trap.””
Dad looked at her.
“Then what do you suggest?””
She whispered, “Wait.””
“For what?””
“For Laura.””
I stared at her.
“You still think my mother is alive?””
Vanessa looked at me.
“Yes.””
Dad said nothing.
Then the front doorbell rang.
Everyone froze.
Nobody moved.
The bell rang again.
Dad reached for the door handle.
“Don't,” Vanessa whispered.
He stopped.
“Who is it?””
No answer.
Dad checked the security camera.
The porch was empty.
He opened the door anyway.
A small package sat on the mat.
No name.
No address.
Dad brought it inside.
He opened it carefully.
Inside was a brass key.
And beneath it, another photograph.
This one showed my mother sitting in a chair.
She looked older.
Tired.
But alive.
On the back was a date.
Yesterday.
My hands started shaking.
Dad turned the photograph over.
A message had been written underneath.
*Ethan, I am sorry I left you. I did it to keep you alive.*
I couldn't breathe.
Dad stared at the words.
Then another line appeared beneath them.
*Do not trust the woman standing beside your father.*
Everyone slowly looked at Vanessa.
She backed away.
“I didn't write that.””
Dad's eyes narrowed.
“I know.””
“Then who did?””
Dad looked at the photograph.
At my mother.
At the date.
Yesterday.
Then he turned toward the window.
A black car was parked across the street.
Its headlights switched on.
Vanessa whispered,
“That's Daniel.””
Dad grabbed his phone.
The car drove away.
But before it disappeared around the corner, the rear window lowered.
A woman sat inside.
She turned her face toward our house.
Even from that distance, I knew her.
My knees nearly gave out.
“Mom.””
Dad ran outside.
The car was already gone.
But on the road, someone had left another envelope.
This one contained a handwritten address.
Dad read it.
Then he looked at me.
It was the address of the storage unit.
May you like
And beneath it was one final instruction.
*Come alone, Michael. Bring Ethan's mother's red folder.*
