Chapter 9: The Second Car
My father refused to speak until we reached Eleanor Whitmore's old property.
James insisted on bringing a security escort, but the man never arrived. Instead, we followed my father's car through winding coastal roads until the houses became farther apart and the trees grew thicker.
The property was a white wooden house overlooking the Atlantic.
Its paint was peeling. The front porch sagged slightly, and the garden had become overgrown.
A rusted mailbox leaned toward the road.
I stepped out of the car.
"This is where Mom hid the ledger?""
My father nodded.
"She and Eleanor used to come here when they needed privacy.""
Olivia looked toward the windows.
"Someone's been here.""
She pointed at the front door.
A fresh scratch ran beside the lock.
James took out his phone.
"I'll contact the local police.""
My father shook his head.
"Give me five minutes.""
He walked toward the porch.
I followed him.
The front door opened with a soft creak.
Inside, the house smelled of dust and saltwater. White sheets covered the furniture, and old photographs hung crookedly along the hallway.
My father walked toward the kitchen.
"Your mother used to sit here every morning," he said.
I looked at the empty table.
"She loved the ocean.""
He nodded.
"She said it reminded her that even after the worst storms, something beautiful remained.""
I swallowed.
He opened a cupboard and removed a small wooden box.
"Your mother left this here.""
I stepped closer.
The box had a brass lock.
My father reached into his pocket.
He held up a tiny key.
I stared at it.
"Where did you get that?""
"Your mother gave it to me the night of the accident.""
He unlocked the box.
Inside were several photographs, a cassette tape, and a folded letter.
James took the letter and carefully opened it.
It was addressed to Eleanor.
If anything happens to me, please make sure Nia receives the truth.
The original ledger is hidden where nobody would think to look.
The second car is the key to everything.
I looked up.
"What does that mean?""
My father picked up the cassette.
"Your mother recorded something before the accident.""
"Is this the recording?""
"I think so.""
James examined the tape.
"Do you have a player?""
My father nodded toward an old cabinet.
"There should be one in the living room.""
He searched through the cabinet and found a portable cassette player.
The machine clicked several times before the tape began turning.
A familiar voice filled the room.
My mother's.
"If you're listening to this, then something has happened to me.""
I covered my mouth.
Olivia put an arm around me.
The recording continued.
"Edward has been moving money through accounts connected to the company. Vanessa knows about it. She has known for years.""
A pause.
Then my mother's voice became softer.
"I wanted to believe she would choose the right thing. I wanted to believe the woman I loved as a sister was still somewhere inside her.""
I closed my eyes.
The tape crackled.
"Thomas believes we should run. I understand why. But I cannot leave this unfinished. Too many people will suffer if Edward gets away with this.""
Then came a sound.
A door closing.
My mother's voice changed.
"You're early.""
A man's voice answered.
Edward.
"Where is it?""
"I don't know what you're talking about.""
"The ledger.""
"I gave it to Eleanor.""
There was a sharp noise.
Then Vanessa spoke.
"You lied to me.""
My blood ran cold.
My mother answered quietly.
"I trusted you.""
Vanessa laughed.
"You trusted the wrong person.""
Edward interrupted.
"Enough. We need the key.""
My mother said something I couldn't hear.
Then came another sound.
A chair scraping.
A struggle.
My father moved closer to the cassette player.
"Turn it up.""
James adjusted the volume.
Edward's voice became clearer.
"Where did you put the second vehicle?""
There was silence.
Then my mother's voice.
"You're not going to get away with this.""
Edward laughed.
"Your husband already agreed to take the blame.""
I turned toward my father.
He looked devastated.
The tape continued.
A car door slammed.
An engine started.
Then my mother's voice, barely audible:
"Thomas, if you can hear me, don't trust the man driving the other car.""
The recording stopped.
Nobody moved.
I stared at my father.
"What does she mean?""
He lowered his head.
"After the accident, I woke up in a hospital. A police officer told me that another vehicle had been involved.""
"Another vehicle?""
He nodded.
"They said a black sedan had struck our car before we hit the barrier.""
"Who was driving?""
"I never found out.""
James looked at the cassette player.
"That recording suggests the second vehicle was arranged deliberately.""
My father nodded.
"Yes.""
I thought about the message.
Ask your father what he did with the second car.
"Did you ever find it?""
He shook his head.
"Not until recently.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
He pulled out his phone.
There was a photograph of an old black sedan in a storage garage.
The license plate was visible.
My father zoomed in.
"Three weeks ago, I received an anonymous photograph. It was the same vehicle involved in the accident.""
James leaned closer.
"Where is it?""
"An old warehouse outside Boston.""
"Why didn't you tell Richard?""
"Because I needed to know whether someone was following me.""
I looked at the photograph again.
A small sticker was visible on the rear window.
A white flower.
I recognized it.
It was the emblem of Whitmore Development.
Olivia whispered, "Oh, my God.""
My father looked at me.
"There's something else.""
He enlarged the photograph.
A reflection appeared in the garage window.
A man standing behind the camera.
I recognized the face.
Marcus.
My fiancé.
I stepped backward.
"No.""
My father lowered the phone.
"Nia—"
"No. That doesn't mean anything.""
James studied the image.
"It means he was there.""
I shook my head.
"Maybe he was investigating.""
My father didn't answer.
Then the front door slammed.
We all turned.
A woman's voice came from the hallway.
"That's exactly what he was doing.""
Vanessa stepped into the living room.
She was no longer wearing a hospital gown. She wore a black coat, dark sunglasses, and a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck.
Marcus stood behind her.
My heart dropped.
"Why are you here?""
Vanessa removed her sunglasses.
"Because you're making a terrible mistake.""
I looked at Marcus.
"Did you know about the second car?""
He didn't answer.
Vanessa walked toward the table.
"Your father has been manipulating you from the beginning.""
My father stepped forward.
"Stay away from her.""
Vanessa ignored him.
She looked at me.
"Do you know who drove the second car that night?""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Who?""
Vanessa pointed at Marcus.
"He did.""
The room went silent.
Marcus shook his head.
"Mom, stop.""
But Vanessa continued.
"He was nine years old, Nia. His father put him in that car and told him to follow your mother's vehicle.""
I stared at Marcus.
He looked as though he might collapse.
"Tell her," Vanessa demanded.
Marcus's eyes filled with tears.
Then he looked at me and whispered:
"I remember the night your mother died.""
He reached into his coat.
And placed a small photograph on the table.
It showed a little boy sitting in the passenger seat of a black sedan.
May you like
Beside him was Edward Whitmore.
And in the rearview mirror, reflected clearly, was my mother's burning car.
