Chapter 5: The Recording in the Safe
Daniel moved so quickly that I barely had time to react.
He grabbed Brielle's arm.
“What did you just say?””
Brielle pulled away.
“Get off me!””
“Say it again!””
“Daniel, stop!”” Diane screamed.
I raised my hand.
“Let her go.””
Daniel released her.
Brielle stumbled backward, straightened her coat, and looked around the room.
For a moment, I thought she might run.
Instead, she lifted her chin.
“I was speaking emotionally.””
I stared at her.
“Were you?””
“Yes. Everyone has been under pressure.””
“You said I wasn't supposed to survive.””
“I didn't mean it like that.””
“Then explain what you meant.””
She looked at Diane.
My wife was crying silently.
“Brielle,” Diane whispered.
“Please tell him.””
Brielle's expression hardened.
“You're the one who wanted this arrangement.””
Diane looked up.
“Don't.””
“You told me he was never coming back.””
“I told you he was badly injured!””
“You said we needed to protect ourselves!””
I watched them.
Their argument was revealing more than either of them intended.
Daniel turned toward his mother.
“Protect yourselves from Dad?””
Diane shook her head.
“No, sweetheart. That's not what I meant.””
“Then what did you mean?””
She couldn't answer.
I pushed myself out of the wheelchair.
My legs trembled, but I remained standing.
“Enough.””
Both women went silent.
“Brielle, you will not leave this property until Thomas arrives.””
She laughed bitterly.
“You can't detain me.””
“I'm not trying to. I'm asking you to stay and explain why you arranged an appointment for my vehicle before the crash.””
She reached for her handbag.
“I'm done with this.””
At that moment, headlights swept across the reception hall.
A black sedan pulled into the driveway.
Thomas Reed stepped out.
He was sixty-two, broad-shouldered, with silver hair and the same disciplined expression I remembered from his years protecting my family.
He entered through the front doors carrying a small overnight bag.
“Mr. Carter.””
I walked toward him.
“Thomas.””
His eyes moved to my legs.
A smile briefly crossed his face.
“Looks like the old man is back.””
“Not quite. But I'm getting there.””
He shook my hand.
Then his expression became serious.
“What happened?””
I explained everything.
He listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he looked at Brielle.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?””
She folded her arms.
“Who are you?””
“Thomas Reed. I used to handle security for the Carter family.””
“Used to?””
“Until I retired.””
He looked at me.
“Mr. Carter, do you still have the original security system connected to the house server?””
I nodded.
“Why?””
“Because I installed it myself. And I remember something.””
He turned toward Diane.
“Mrs. Carter, do you remember the night of the accident?””
Diane frowned.
“Of course.””
“Do you remember coming home around midnight?””
“Yes.””
“Do you remember entering Mr. Carter's study?””
She shook her head.
“No.””
Thomas studied her.
“I have a different memory.””
Diane's face changed.
He placed his bag on the table and removed a small laptop.
“Before I retired, I made a backup of the house security system. I kept it because I was concerned about unauthorized access.””
I stared at him.
“You never told me.””
“I didn't want to alarm you without proof.””
He opened the laptop.
The screen displayed a list of archived recordings.
Thomas selected a date.
The night of my accident.
A video appeared.
The camera showed the hallway outside my study.
At 11:48 p.m., Diane entered.
She looked around before opening the door.
Then Brielle appeared.
She carried a large brown envelope.
They entered together.
The video continued for several minutes.
Diane came out first.
Brielle followed.
She locked the study door.
Then she placed something inside her handbag.
Thomas paused the recording.
I stared at the screen.
“What was she carrying?””
“I'm not certain,” he said.
“But the camera inside the study captured something else.””
He opened another file.
This time, the footage showed my desk.
The room was empty.
At 12:06 a.m., Brielle entered.
She went directly to the bottom drawer of my desk.
She removed a small black box.
Then she left.
I recognized that box.
My personal recording device.
I had used it for years to preserve conversations involving major business agreements.
I looked at Brielle.
“Where is it?””
She said nothing.
Thomas continued searching.
“Mr. Carter, there's something else.””
He opened another recording.
The camera showed Diane standing in the hallway, speaking on her phone.
The audio was faint, but Thomas had enhanced it.
Diane's voice filled the room.
“It's done. He won't be able to stop us now.””
A pause.
Then another voice.
Brielle.
“Are you sure?””
Diane looked toward the study door.
“Yes. By the time he gets home, everything will be in place.””
I felt my stomach turn.
Daniel stared at his mother.
“Mom?””
Diane began shaking her head.
“No. That's not what it sounds like.””
I looked at her.
“Then tell us what it means.””
She sat down.
“I was talking about the company.””
Thomas stopped the recording.
“Mrs. Carter, the timestamp is eleven minutes before Mr. Carter's accident was reported.””
Diane covered her face.
The room fell silent.
I turned toward Brielle.
“Where is my recording device?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Thomas closed the laptop.
“Then perhaps we should search the house.””
I looked at him.
“No. Not yet.””
I remembered something.
The safe in my study.
The one behind the framed photograph of Daniel's graduation.
I had changed its combination shortly before the accident.
Only three people knew the original code.
Me.
Diane.
And Richard Hale.
I walked slowly toward the staircase.
Daniel followed.
“Dad, where are you going?””
“My study.””
Diane stood abruptly.
“Marcus, don't.””
I turned.
“Why?””
“There's nothing in there.””
I stared at her.
“That's exactly why we're going.””
Thomas moved ahead of me and opened the study door.
Everything looked familiar.
The mahogany desk.
The leather chairs.
The shelves of business books.
The photograph of Daniel in his graduation gown.
But the framed photograph was crooked.
I approached it.
Behind it was the wall safe.
I entered the combination.
The lock clicked.
Inside were several folders, a passport, and a small velvet box.
But the black recording device was missing.
Instead, there was a folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
My handwriting.
Or something that looked like it.
The note read:
If you are reading this, the accident was not an accident. Do not trust Richard Hale.
I stared at the words.
Daniel leaned over my shoulder.
“Dad, did you write that?””
I shook my head.
“No.””
Thomas examined the paper.
“Then someone wanted you to find it.””
I turned the page over.
There was a second sentence.
The person who ordered the job was not Brielle.
My heart began pounding.
I looked toward the doorway.
Diane was standing there.
Her face was completely white.
“Who wrote this?”” I asked.
She began crying.
May you like
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said:
“Your brother.””
