Chapter 12: The Wrong Woman Died
I didn't speak for several seconds.
Brielle was crying on the other end of the phone.
“My mother wasn't the person they intended to kill.””
I repeated her words slowly.
“Who were they trying to kill?””
Brielle took a shaky breath.
“Your mother.””
I looked at Daniel.
He had heard everything.
“Explain,” I said.
“Richard told me that Patricia discovered a financial scheme involving Andrew and your father. She was going to expose it. But the people involved believed your mother had the original records.””
I closed my eyes.
“My mother died twenty-two years ago.””
“I know.””
“Are you saying someone tried to kill her?””
“Yes.””
My stomach tightened.
“Why did Patricia die?””
“Because she was driving your mother's car.””
The room became silent.
I gripped the phone.
“What?””
Brielle began speaking faster.
“Your mother had borrowed Patricia's car that evening. But they switched vehicles at the hospital because your mother wasn't feeling well. Patricia took the car with the medication inside.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Medication?””
“Richard said someone had put something in a bottle of medicine. It was supposed to make your mother sick enough to stop her from attending a meeting.””
I stared at the floor.
“But Patricia took it instead.””
“Yes.””
Daniel covered his mouth.
I could barely breathe.
“Who arranged it?””
Brielle went quiet.
“Brielle.””
“I don't know everything.””
“Who?””
She whispered a name.
“Andrew.””
I closed my eyes.
Again.
My brother.
My younger brother.
The same man who had arranged the sabotage of my SUV.
The same man who had spent nineteen years pretending he was the victim.
I asked, “Did Andrew know Patricia was going to take the car?””
“I don't know.””
“Did he know she died?””
“Yes.””
“And he never told anyone?””
“No.””
I looked at Thomas.
He was already recording the conversation on his phone.
“Brielle, why are you telling me this now?””
“Because Richard disappeared.””
“What does that have to do with you?””
“He came to my apartment last night. He said Andrew was planning to leave the country. He told me that if I wanted my inheritance, I needed to stop asking questions.””
I leaned forward.
“Did he threaten you?””
“He said my mother didn't die because of an accident. He said if I kept digging, I would end up like her.””
I felt a cold wave move through me.
“Where are you now?””
“At my apartment.””
“Are you alone?””
“Yes.””
“Lock the doors. Don't let anyone inside.””
She began crying harder.
“Marcus, I know you hate me.””
I didn't respond.
“I know what I did was wrong. I know I helped Andrew take control of your company. But I didn't know he was going to hurt you.””
I looked at the photograph on the desk.
“Did you know about the brakes?””
A long pause.
Then she answered.
“Yes.””
Daniel's face hardened.
I closed my eyes.
“Tell me exactly what you knew.””
Brielle's voice broke.
“Andrew told me the car needed to be disabled. He said you would be forced to stay home and step away from the company. He said the mechanic would make sure it looked like a normal failure.””
“Did you know the car might crash?””
“He said the brakes would fail slowly.””
I felt sick.
“That's not an answer.””
“I knew it was dangerous.””
I gripped the edge of the desk.
“You knew.””
“Yes.””
“And you let me drive it?””
She sobbed.
“I thought you would notice something was wrong.””
I stared at the phone.
“You thought I'd notice?””
“I was scared.””
“You were scared?””
My voice rose.
“I spent six weeks in a hospital bed, Brielle. I spent months learning how to stand. I watched my son cry because he thought his father would never walk again.””
She was silent.
“And you were scared?””
“I know.””
“No. You don't.””
I ended the call.
For several seconds, the room remained silent.
Daniel finally spoke.
“She knew.””
I nodded.
“She knew.””
He looked away.
“I don't understand how someone can do that to family.””
Neither did I.
Thomas approached.
“Sir, Detective Mitchell needs to know about this conversation.””
I nodded.
“Send her the recording.””
He did.
Less than twenty minutes later, she called back.
“Mr. Carter, we need Brielle's location.””
I gave her the address.
She said officers would be dispatched immediately.
But before they arrived, another call came through.
This time, it was Brielle.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“What's happened?””
Her voice was frantic.
“Someone is outside my apartment.””
“Who?””
“I don't know. There's a black SUV parked across the street. The same one that followed me last night.””
“Stay inside.””
“I can't.””
“Brielle, listen to me. The police are coming.””
She began crying.
“Marcus, I found something.””
“What?””
“My mother's old diary.””
I straightened.
“Where?””
“In a box Richard gave me. He said it was supposed to be destroyed.””
“What does it say?””
“There's a page about the night she died.””
I closed my eyes.
“Read it.””
Brielle's voice trembled as she read.
September 14. I know Andrew has been moving money through the company. I have copies of everything. I told Marcus's mother, and she promised to help me.
I froze.
Brielle continued.
But tonight I saw something I cannot explain. Andrew was speaking to Richard in the hospital parking lot. They were arguing about the medication.
I looked at Thomas.
He was listening carefully.
Brielle continued reading.
Richard said the wrong woman had taken the medicine. Andrew told him to stop worrying because nobody would ever know.
My stomach turned.
“Keep reading.””
There was a pause.
Then Brielle whispered:
“There's another entry.””
“What does it say?””
Her voice broke.
I am afraid Andrew knows I kept the original account records. If anything happens to me, Marcus must know that his brother has been stealing from him for years.
I closed my eyes.
Then Brielle said something unexpected.
“Marcus, there's a name written at the bottom.””
“Whose?””
She hesitated.
“Your mother's.””
I felt my heart stop.
“My mother was involved?””
“I don't know. But there's a note beside her name.””
“What note?””
Brielle began crying again.
“Your mother wrote that she knew Andrew had arranged everything.””
I stood abruptly.
“That's impossible.””
“There's more.””
“What?””
Brielle took a shaky breath.
“She wrote that she was going to the police the next morning.””
I stared at the wall.
My mother had died twenty-two years ago.
The same night Patricia died.
And now I was discovering that both women might have known the truth about my brother.
“Brielle,” I said slowly, “where is the diary?””
“In my apartment.””
“Don't touch anything. Wait for the police.””
“I can't. Marcus, there's someone trying to get inside.””
A loud crash came through the phone.
Brielle screamed.
Then the call disconnected.
“Brielle!””
I called back.
No answer.
Thomas grabbed his keys.
“Sir, we're going.””
Daniel was already moving toward the door.
I followed them, forcing my legs to keep pace.
We reached the apartment building twenty minutes later.
Two police vehicles were already outside.
Detective Mitchell stood near the entrance.
“What happened?”” I demanded.
She looked at me grimly.
“The apartment was broken into.””
“Where is Brielle?””
“We haven't found her.””
My stomach tightened.
“Did you find the diary?””
Detective Mitchell shook her head.
“No.””
I looked toward the staircase.
Then I noticed something on the floor beside the elevator.
A small silver necklace.
I recognized it.
Brielle had worn it at the reception.
It had a tiny photograph of her mother inside.
I picked it up.
There was a folded piece of paper tucked behind the photograph.
I opened it.
Three words were written in Brielle's handwriting.
*ASK YOUR MOTHER.*
I stared at the message.
My mother had been dead for twenty-two years.
But suddenly, I understood something.
The answers weren't hidden in Andrew's past.
They were hidden in the one place nobody had thought to search.
My mother's old house.
And when I turned toward Detective Mitchell, she was already looking at me.
“Mr. Carter,” she said quietly, “we found something else in Brielle's apartment.””
“What?””
She handed me a sealed evidence bag.
Inside was a photograph of my mother.
She was standing outside St. Vincent's hospital on the night Patricia died.
But she wasn't alone.
Beside her stood Richard Hale.
And behind them, partially hidden in the shadows, was a third person.
My father.
The man who had supposedly been at home that night.
I stared at the photograph.
Then Detective Mitchell delivered the final blow.
“Mr. Carter, your father didn't die of a heart attack twenty-two years ago.””
May you like
She paused.
“His death certificate was falsified.””
