Chapter 13: My Father's Last Betrayal
I didn't sleep that night.
The photograph from the warehouse sat on my desk, its edges curled from being handled too many times.
Maya's face stared back at me.
She was standing outside her school, carrying her backpack, completely unaware that someone had been watching her.
On the back were six words.
The girl was never supposed to survive.
And beneath them was my father's signature.
I had spent the entire night trying to convince myself there was an explanation.
Perhaps Richard had forged it.
Perhaps someone had stolen my father's handwriting.
Perhaps the photograph was part of another elaborate scheme.
But Michael wasn't convinced.
“Daniel, we need to consider every possibility,” he said, standing beside the window.
“Are you suggesting my father wanted Maya dead?””
“I'm suggesting we don't know what he wanted.””
I looked toward the hallway.
Maya was sleeping in the guest bedroom with Mrs. Collins outside the door.
Sophie was staying in the room across from hers.
Noah had finally been brought to the estate under emergency protective supervision.
For the first time, the twins were under the same roof.
And I couldn't even promise them that their own grandfather had wanted them alive.
My phone rang.
The investigator.
“Mr. Hale, we recovered a second recording from the warehouse.””
I sat forward.
“What's on it?””
“Your father's voice. We believe it was recorded shortly before his death.””
“Send it to Michael.””
“There's something else.””
“What?””
“The recording mentions a second person involved in the original accident.””
My stomach tightened.
“Richard?””
“No. A woman.””
I looked at Michael.
“Who?””
The investigator paused.
“Catherine Hale.””
My first wife.
The mother who had raised Maya.
The woman I had buried thirteen years earlier.
I couldn't speak.
Michael played the recording through his laptop.
My father's voice filled the study.
“Catherine, you need to understand that I never wanted this to happen.””
A woman's voice answered.
“You knew what Richard was planning.””
“I thought I could stop him.””
“You always think you can stop him, Edward. That's why Thomas is dead.””
My father's voice became angry.
“Don't bring Thomas into this.””
“Then stop using his children as bargaining chips.””
There was a pause.
Then my father said something that made me grip the desk.
“You agreed to raise the girl.””
“I agreed to protect her. I never agreed to let you control her inheritance.””
“Catherine, if you go to the police, Richard will destroy everything.””
“Then let him try.””
The recording ended with a sudden noise.
Michael replayed the final seconds.
A door slammed.
Then another voice spoke.
Richard.
“Father, we have a problem.””
My father's response was barely audible.
“What now?””
“Catherine has the original documents.””
The recording stopped.
I stared at the screen.
Catherine had known.
She had fought my father.
She had tried to protect Maya.
And someone had killed her.
But the recording raised another question.
Why had my father been speaking to Catherine shortly before her death?
I turned toward Michael.
“Find out where this was recorded.””
He examined the file.
“It's from the security system at the old estate.””
“Which room?””
“The conservatory.””
I remembered the room.
My father had kept his private papers there.
I stood immediately.
“Let's go.””
The conservatory hadn't been used in years.
Dust covered the furniture. Dead leaves lay beneath the glass roof, and the curtains were still drawn.
I searched the desk.
Nothing.
Michael checked the cabinets.
Then Mrs. Collins appeared in the doorway.
“Sir?””
I turned.
She held a small wooden box.
“Your father told me to give you this if you ever discovered the truth about Catherine.””
I took it.
Inside was a photograph, a letter, and a small key.
The photograph showed my father standing beside Catherine.
They were outside a courthouse.
The date was thirteen years ago.
Catherine was holding a baby.
Maya.
On the back, my father had written:
The only person who knows the complete truth is the person I failed to protect.
I opened the letter.
Daniel,
If you have found this, then Richard has likely revealed enough of his crimes to make you question me.
You have every right to hate me.
I knew Richard was dangerous. I knew what happened to Thomas. I also knew he had become obsessed with controlling the children.
I made a terrible decision. I believed I could keep Richard close enough to watch him and protect Maya from a distance.
I was wrong.
I did not order Catherine's death. But I failed to save her.
My vision blurred.
I kept reading.
The woman who can prove what happened to Catherine is not Vanessa, Elizabeth, or Sophie.
It is the woman Richard believes has been dead for thirteen years.
I stopped.
Michael stepped closer.
“Who?””
I turned the page.
There was a name.
*Margaret Collins.*
I slowly looked toward the housekeeper.
She stood motionless in the doorway.
“Margaret?””
Her face crumpled.
“I was hoping you'd never have to read that.””
I stared at her.
“What does my father mean?””
She looked at the photograph.
Then at me.
“I was in the car with Catherine that night.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
Mrs. Collins began crying.
“I was supposed to drive her home. Richard's men followed us. They forced the car off the road.””
I felt the room spin.
“You survived?””
“Yes.””
“Why did the police report say Catherine was alone?””
“Because I was taken from the hospital before I could speak.””
Michael stood.
“Who took you?””
Mrs. Collins looked at me.
“Your father.””
I stared at her.
“He knew you survived?””
She nodded.
“He hid me because Richard had threatened to kill me if I testified. Your father arranged for me to work at the estate under another name.””
I shook my head.
“You've been in my house for thirteen years.””
“Yes.””
“You watched me raise Maya.””
Tears ran down her cheeks.
“Yes.””
“And you never told me?””
She lowered her head.
“Your father said that if I told you, Richard would come after Maya again.””
I stepped away.
I felt betrayed by everyone.
My father.
My brother.
My wife.
Even the woman who had helped raise me.
But before I could speak, Margaret reached into her pocket.
She produced a small memory card.
“Your father gave me this before he died. He said it contained the original recording of Catherine's final moments.””
Michael took it.
“Why didn't you give this to the police?””
Margaret looked toward the window.
“Because the recording contains something else.””
“What?””
She whispered:
“Catherine knew who was driving the second car.””
I looked at her.
“Who?””
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Your father.””
The room went silent.
And before I could ask another question, the estate's security alarm began screaming.
Someone had entered the property.
The monitor showed a man walking toward the guest bedroom.
He was carrying a gun.
And when the camera captured his face, I recognized him immediately.
May you like
My father's former driver.
The man everyone believed had died twelve years ago.
