Chapter 10: The Brother Who Helped Her Steal
I played the recording again.
Then a third time.
Each time, the same voice came through.
"Don't worry. Marcus won't find out.""
Daniel.
My younger brother.
The boy who used to sleep in the bunk bed beneath mine. The man who had stood beside me at Rachel's funeral. The uncle who had bought Noah his first bicycle.
The man who had sat at my dinner table while Vanessa pulled food away from my son.
I looked at Michael.
"Tell me that's not him.""
Michael didn't answer immediately.
"An audio identification needs professional verification. We shouldn't make accusations based on a preliminary impression.""
"But I know his voice.""
"I understand. That's why we preserve the recording and investigate.""
I stood up and walked toward the window.
My brother had been in my house countless times.
He had held Noah when he was a baby.
He had comforted me after Rachel died.
And now I was hearing his voice on a recording made the night before she died.
My phone was on the desk.
I picked it up.
Michael immediately said, "Don't call him yet.""
"Why?""
"Because we don't know how much he knows, what records he has, or whether contacting him could compromise the investigation.""
I put the phone down.
He was right.
But staying silent felt impossible.
James saved the recording and prepared a verified forensic copy. Michael arranged for the material to be submitted through the appropriate legal channels.
Then he asked me to review something else.
"There's a financial connection we need to discuss.""
He opened Laura's latest report.
A company called Cole Family Consulting had received more than $130,000 from Noah's trust.
But it wasn't the only company involved.
A second business had received payments from the same account.
Its name was Reed Construction Solutions.
I stared.
"That's Daniel's company.""
Michael nodded.
"Is your brother involved in your business?""
"Not directly. He has his own contracting company.""
"Did you ever refer clients to him?""
"Several. Why?""
Michael pointed to a transaction.
"One payment was made approximately six months after your marriage to Vanessa. Another occurred a year later.""
I read the figures.
$18,000.
$24,500.
$31,000.
The payments totaled more than $70,000.
"You're telling me my brother received money from Noah's trust?""
"I'm telling you the records show payments to his company. We still need to establish their purpose.""
I leaned back.
"How could he justify this?""
"That's what the investigation needs to determine.""
I looked at the dates.
One payment had been made just four days before Noah's fifth birthday.
I remembered that birthday.
Daniel had bought Noah an expensive toy truck.
He had told everyone he wanted his nephew to have something special.
I had thanked him.
I had no idea the money might have come from Noah himself.
That evening, I decided to go home early.
Noah was in the living room building a tower from wooden blocks.
When he saw me, he smiled.
"Dad! Look!""
The tower was nearly as tall as his shoulder.
"That's impressive.""
He grinned.
"Grandma said I could build it anywhere.""
"Grandma is right.""
He returned to his blocks.
I stood in the doorway, watching him.
Then he asked, "Is Uncle Daniel coming for dinner?""
I froze.
"Why?""
"Because he said he might visit.""
"Did he call you?""
Noah nodded.
"He sent me a message.""
I sat beside him.
"Can I see it?""
He handed me his tablet.
The message was simple.
*Hey, champ. How are you doing? Tell your dad I want to talk.*
I stared at the screen.
"Did you answer?""
"No.""
"Good.""
Noah looked at me.
"Did I do something wrong?""
"No, buddy. You haven't done anything wrong.""
He returned to his blocks.
I took the tablet and put it away.
At eight that evening, my phone rang.
Daniel.
I stared at the screen before answering.
"Hello.""
"Marcus! Finally. I've been trying to reach you.""
"What do you want?""
He laughed.
"What's with the attitude?""
"We need to talk.""
"About what?""
"Rachel.""
There was a pause.
Then Daniel cleared his throat.
"What's happened?""
"Do you remember the night she died?""
"Of course I remember.""
"Where were you?""
"At home.""
"All night?""
"Yes.""
I looked at the photograph of Rachel on my desk.
"Are you sure?""
"Marcus, what is this?""
"I heard a recording.""
Silence.
"What recording?""
"One Rachel made.""
Daniel exhaled.
"Look, brother, I don't know what you're talking about.""
"Your voice is on it.""
Another silence.
Then he laughed.
A short, nervous laugh.
"That's impossible.""
"Why?""
"Because I barely knew Rachel's friends.""
I leaned forward.
"You knew Vanessa.""
He didn't answer.
"Daniel?""
Finally, he spoke.
"Marcus, you need to be careful.""
"About what?""
"About believing everything you hear.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Did you help Vanessa access Noah's trust?""
"Absolutely not.""
"Then why did your company receive money from it?""
He went quiet.
I had my answer.
"Marcus," he said slowly, "those payments were legitimate business transactions.""
"For what?""
"Consulting.""
"What consulting?""
"That's not something I can explain over the phone.""
"Then explain it in person.""
He sighed.
"Fine. Tomorrow.""
Before hanging up, he added:
"One more thing. Don't let Vanessa convince you she did everything alone.""
I stared at the phone.
"What does that mean?""
But Daniel had already ended the call.
The next morning, I met him at a coffee shop near his office.
He arrived wearing a gray jacket and carrying a leather folder.
He looked tired.
He didn't hug me.
He didn't even offer to shake my hand.
He sat down and ordered coffee.
"Let's get this over with," he said.
I placed a copy of the transaction summary on the table.
"Explain these payments.""
He glanced at the page.
"I did work for the trust.""
"What work?""
"Financial consulting.""
"You're a construction contractor.""
"I have business experience.""
I stared at him.
"Daniel, Noah was five years old. What financial consulting did he need?""
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
"Vanessa was trying to organize the money.""
"Then why was the money transferred to your company?""
"Because she needed help.""
"Help doing what?""
He leaned forward.
"Marcus, you have no idea what Rachel was doing before she died.""
I felt my pulse quicken.
"What was she doing?""
"She was threatening people.""
"Who?""
"Vanessa. Me. Other people.""
I stared at him.
"Why would Rachel threaten you?""
Daniel looked toward the window.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
"Because she found out about the money we borrowed.""
"We?""
He looked back at me.
"Yes. We.""
I slowly folded my hands.
"How much?""
Daniel swallowed.
"Originally?""
"How much, Daniel?""
"About sixty thousand.""
I stared at him.
"And the rest?""
He looked down.
"Things got complicated.""
I stood up.
"You're going to explain everything to the investigator.""
"Marcus, wait.""
He grabbed my sleeve.
"There's something you need to understand.""
I pulled away.
"What?""
Daniel's eyes filled with something between fear and desperation.
"Vanessa didn't just steal from Noah.""
He lowered his voice.
"She told me Rachel had agreed to it.""
I stared at him.
"Rachel was dead when most of those withdrawals happened.""
Daniel nodded.
"I know.""
Then he opened his leather folder and removed a document.
It was a photocopy of a signature.
Rachel's signature.
May you like
But beneath it was a date.
A date from three days after her death.
