Chapter 6: The Man in the Photograph
I stared at the photograph for several minutes.
Patricia's husband, Thomas Collins, had supposedly disappeared shortly after Emily's death.
Vanessa had told me the marriage ended because Thomas abandoned Patricia and their children.
I remembered hearing the story at family gatherings.
Patricia would become emotional whenever someone mentioned him.
She claimed he had left without warning, taken money from their joint account, and started another life somewhere out west.
But the man in the photograph was standing beside Emily.
They looked comfortable together.
Not like strangers.
Not even like casual acquaintances.
Emily's hand rested on his shoulder.
Thomas was smiling.
The photograph had been taken outside a restaurant.
On the back, my father had written a date.
October 14.
Three days before Emily died.
I looked at the flash drive.
My father had hidden it inside the box for a reason.
I took it into my study and locked the door.
My laptop recognized the device immediately.
There were four folders.
*BANK RECORDS.*
*POLICE REPORTS.*
*EMILY'S VOICE.*
*COLLINS PROPERTY FILES.*
I clicked the first folder.
Dozens of scanned documents appeared.
Bank transfers.
Loan applications.
Property records.
And several documents bearing Emily's signature.
I opened one.
It was a mortgage application for a property in a neighboring county.
The borrower was listed as Thomas Collins.
The co-signer was Emily Carter.
But Emily had supposedly never owned property with him.
I opened another document.
Same pattern.
A second property.
A third.
All using Emily's personal information.
My father had been right.
Someone had used my sister's identity to obtain loans.
I checked the dates.
The earliest application was filed eight months before her death.
The latest was filed two days before the accident.
Then I noticed something.
The addresses on the documents weren't random.
They were all properties connected to the same development company.
Collins Residential Holdings.
I searched the company name on my laptop.
The business was no longer active.
But the registered agent was still listed.
Patricia Collins.
I leaned back.
This wasn't simply a family dispute.
It was an organized financial scheme.
I opened the second folder.
Inside were copies of police reports and private investigation notes.
My father had documented phone calls, meetings, and visits.
One page contained a handwritten note.
Thomas Collins reported missing October 19. Vehicle discovered abandoned October 22. No confirmed sighting afterward.
Another note was dated six months later.
Possible sighting in Indiana. Male matching description entered bank branch using alternate identification.
I read it twice.
Thomas might not have abandoned Patricia.
He might have disappeared because he knew something.
My phone rang.
It was Vanessa.
I answered.
"Where are you?""
"At home.""
"Did you find anything?""
I hesitated.
"Yes.""
"Daniel, I need to tell you something.""
"What?""
"I wasn't completely honest about the money.""
I closed my eyes.
"What now?""
"Patricia didn't receive all of it.""
I stared at the banking documents.
"Where did the rest go?""
"She told me to transfer some of it into a business account.""
"Whose business account?""
"Collins Residential Holdings.""
I felt my stomach drop.
"That company is inactive.""
"I know that now.""
"How much?""
"Eleven thousand dollars.""
I rubbed my forehead.
"Why?""
"She said she needed to pay legal fees.""
"What legal fees?""
"She wouldn't tell me.""
I looked at the screen.
"Vanessa, did you know your sister was using Emily's identity?""
There was a long pause.
Then she whispered, "I suspected.""
I stood up.
"You suspected?""
"She showed me some papers last year. She said Emily had agreed to help with a property deal.""
"Emily was dead!""
"I know!""
"Then why didn't you go to the police?""
Vanessa began crying.
"Because Patricia threatened me.""
"With what?""
"She said if I exposed her, she'd tell you something about my past.""
I gripped the edge of my desk.
"What past?""
"I made a mistake before we got married.""
I waited.
Vanessa's breathing became uneven.
"Patricia said she had proof.""
"What proof?""
"Daniel, please. I don't want to talk about this over the phone.""
I looked at the flash drive.
"Then tell me in person.""
She hesitated.
"Can you come home?""
"I'm not leaving this evidence.""
"Please.""
I heard a door close on her end.
Then another voice.
A woman's voice.
Patricia.
"Who are you talking to?""
Vanessa went silent.
I heard her whisper, "Nobody.""
Patricia laughed.
"Don't lie to me. Give me the phone.""
The call ended.
I immediately dialed Vanessa again.
No answer.
I called twice more.
Nothing.
I grabbed my jacket.
Before leaving, I copied the flash drive's contents to my laptop and sent a backup to a secure email account.
Then I called my mother.
"Mom, can you check on Vanessa?""
"Why?""
"Patricia is at the house.""
My mother went silent.
"Daniel, don't go there alone.""
"I'm not going to confront her. I just want to make sure Vanessa is okay.""
"Call the police.""
"I will if I need to.""
I drove home.
The porch light was on.
Vanessa's car was parked in the driveway.
But another vehicle sat behind it.
A black SUV.
Patricia's.
I walked to the front door.
It was unlocked.
Inside, the living room lamp was on.
A glass lay broken beside the sofa.
"Vanessa?""
No answer.
I moved toward the dining room.
The table was still covered with the remnants of dinner.
The seafood tray was gone.
The children's plates had been stacked in the sink.
Then I heard a sound from upstairs.
A drawer closing.
I climbed the steps slowly.
At the top of the staircase, I saw Patricia standing outside our bedroom.
She was holding a manila envelope.
When she noticed me, she smiled.
"Daniel. I was wondering when you'd show up.""
"Where's my wife?""
"She's fine.""
"Where is she?""
Patricia gestured toward the bedroom.
Vanessa was sitting on the edge of the bed.
Her face was pale.
Her hands were clasped tightly together.
I looked at the envelope.
"What are you holding?""
"Something that belongs to my family.""
"Put it down.""
Patricia laughed.
"You're making a mistake getting involved in this.""
I stepped closer.
"You're already involved in my family.""
She tilted her head.
"Your father should have minded his own business.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Did you have something to do with Emily's death?""
Patricia's smile disappeared.
For a second, something ugly flashed across her face.
Then she laughed again.
"Your sister was always asking questions.""
"Answer me.""
"She trusted the wrong people.""
"Did you kill her?""
Vanessa suddenly stood.
"Daniel, don't!""
Patricia turned toward her.
"Be quiet.""
I looked at my wife.
"Why are you afraid of her?""
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
"Because she knows what happened before our wedding.""
I stared at her.
"What happened?""
Patricia stepped between us.
"Let's not ruin a perfectly good marriage over old paperwork.""
She held up the envelope.
"Besides, I have something that might interest you.""
I didn't move.
"What's inside?""
"An original document from Emily's estate.""
She slid it across the dresser.
I picked it up.
The first page was a notarized statement dated four days before Emily died.
It claimed Emily had voluntarily transferred her interest in the Collins properties to Patricia.
But there was something wrong.
The signature was too neat.
Emily's real signature always had a distinctive loop in the letter E.
This one didn't.
I looked at Patricia.
"This is forged.""
She shrugged.
"That's what you think.""
Then she pointed toward Vanessa.
"Ask your wife what she knows about that signature.""
I turned.
Vanessa was crying.
"Daniel, I didn't know what she was planning.""
Patricia smiled.
"Tell him the rest.""
Vanessa shook her head.
"Please.""
"Tell him who signed the original document.""
I looked between them.
"Who?""
Patricia leaned against the dresser.
"Your wife did.""
The room went silent.
I stared at Vanessa.
She covered her mouth.
Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, she said:
"I signed Emily's name because Patricia told me she was already dead.""
I stepped backward.
"How long before she died?""
Vanessa looked at me.
"Three days.""
My entire body went cold.
Patricia calmly picked up her handbag.
"Now you understand why your wife has been so cooperative.""
She walked toward the bedroom door.
But before leaving, she turned around.
"And Daniel? If you want to know what really happened to Emily, stop looking for the man in that photograph.""
I frowned.
"Why?""
Patricia smiled.
"Because Thomas Collins isn't the person who disappeared.""
She paused.
Then delivered the words that shattered everything I thought I knew.
"He's the person who came back.""
I watched her leave.
Then my phone vibrated.
An email had arrived from the attorney's office.
The subject line read:
*URGENT: ORIGINAL TRUST DOCUMENTS AND SURVIVING WITNESS IDENTIFIED.*
I opened it.
The attached file contained a recent photograph.
A man stood outside a hospital.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakably familiar.
Thomas Collins.
And beside him was a woman I had spent seventeen years believing was dead.
May you like
My sister.
Emily.
