Chapter 13: The Night Alexander's Father Died
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The message remained on my phone.
He was there.
I looked at Alexander.
"Tell me.""
He didn't answer.
Stephanie sat frozen beside Mr. Bennett, her hands pressed against her mouth. The attorney quietly closed the office door.
Alexander finally lowered himself into a chair.
"When my father died, I was twelve," he began.
"I told you he had been driving home during a storm. That's what my grandfather told the police. That's what the family believed.""
"Believed?""
He looked at me.
"I was in the car.""
My stomach dropped.
"What?""
"I wasn't supposed to be there. My father had taken me to his office that evening. We argued because I wanted to go home. He told me he had something important to do first.""
Alexander rubbed his palms together.
"We drove to an old warehouse near the river. I remember a black car parked outside. A man was waiting.""
"Who?""
"I couldn't see his face. My father told me to stay inside the car.""
He paused.
"Then I heard shouting.""
I moved closer.
"What happened?""
"My father came back carrying an envelope. He was furious. He said someone had stolen documents from him. Then he told me we were going home.""
Alexander's voice became strained.
"About twenty minutes later, the brakes failed.""
I felt cold.
"You were in the car when it went off the bridge?""
He nodded.
"I remember the water. The glass breaking. My father pushing me toward the window.""
His eyes filled.
"He got me out. He didn't make it himself.""
I sat beside him.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I spent years believing I had caused his death. I had begged him to take me home. I thought if I hadn't complained, he would have been somewhere else.""
I took his hand.
"Alex, you were twelve.""
"I know that now.""
He looked down.
"But I remember something else.""
"What?""
"Before he drove away from the warehouse, he said one name.""
I held my breath.
"Richard.""
The room went silent.
Stephanie whispered, "No.""
Alexander nodded.
"My father said, 'Richard, you have no idea what you've done.''"
Mr. Bennett stood.
"That changes everything.""
"Not yet," Alexander replied.
"I never saw Richard at the warehouse. I only heard his name.""
I looked at the message again.
"Someone knows what happened that night.""
Mr. Bennett took my phone.
"We need to preserve this. Whoever sent it may have access to information that was never made public.""
He called his investigator.
While he spoke, Alexander looked at me.
"There's something else.""
I was almost afraid to ask.
"What?""
"My grandfather gave me a sealed envelope when I turned eighteen. He told me never to open it unless someone tried to use my father's death against me.""
Alexander stood and walked to the office window.
"I thought it was just another family secret. I never opened it.""
"Where is it?""
"At home. In my father's old study.""
I looked at him.
"Then we're going there.""
The envelope was inside a locked cabinet.
Alexander had kept it untouched for more than a decade.
The paper was yellowed, and his grandfather's handwriting crossed the front.
For Alexander. Only if the truth becomes necessary.
Alexander opened it.
Inside was a letter and a small memory card.
He read the letter silently.
Then he handed it to me.
Alexander,
Your father was preparing to expose Richard Carter's financial crimes. He had discovered that Richard was using Margaret Collins's identity to obtain loans and redirect money from companies connected to the Collins family.
Daniel had evidence. He intended to deliver it to the authorities.
The night he died, he was meeting someone who promised to provide the final documents.
I believe he was betrayed.
I have reason to suspect Richard, but I cannot prove his involvement.
The memory card contains a recording your father made shortly before his death. I could not bear to listen to it. I leave that burden to you.
I looked at Alexander.
"Have you ever heard the recording?""
He shook his head.
"No.""
We inserted the card into an old laptop.
A single audio file appeared.
Alexander pressed play.
At first, there was static.
Then Daniel's voice filled the room.
"If anything happens to me, the documents are with Eleanor. She knows what Margaret wanted.""
A pause.
Then another voice.
"You should have stayed out of it, Daniel.""
Richard.
Alexander's face hardened.
Daniel continued.
"You stole from Margaret. You used her name. You tried to take money meant for her daughter.""
"Nobody will believe you.""
"I don't need them to believe me. I have the records.""
"You have no idea what you're risking.""
"I know exactly what I'm risking. My son. My daughter. Everything.""
A loud noise interrupted the recording.
Then Daniel spoke again.
"Richard, listen to me. If you touch either child, I will destroy you.""
The recording ended.
I stared at the laptop.
"My father knew.""
Alexander nodded.
"He knew Richard was dangerous.""
A second file appeared on the screen.
This one had a different date.
Alexander clicked it.
His grandfather's voice came through.
"Daniel, if you're hearing this, I'm sorry. I should have stopped you from meeting him. I should have protected you.""
There was a long silence.
Then Robert Whitmore continued.
"Richard didn't act alone. Someone inside the hospital helped him alter the records. Someone who had access to the nursery, the birth certificates, and the private adoption files.""
I looked at Alexander.
The recording continued.
"I know who it was. I have the name. But if I expose that person, the children will be dragged into this scandal. I cannot do that to them.""
The recording stopped.
Alexander sat motionless.
"Who was it?"" I whispered.
He looked at the laptop.
"My grandfather never said.""
A knock sounded at the front door.
We both turned.
Mr. Bennett had arrived with his investigator.
He entered carrying a thick folder.
"I've identified the person who sent the messages," he said.
"It's a former hospital administrator named Paul Mercer. He worked at the hospital where you and Stephanie were born.""
"Where is he now?"" I asked.
"Retired. Living outside Philadelphia.""
Alexander stood.
"Then we're going to see him.""
Mr. Bennett hesitated.
"There's a problem.""
"What?""
"Paul Mercer died three weeks ago.""
I stared at him.
"Then who sent the messages?""
The investigator placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Paul Mercer standing outside a courthouse.
Beside him was a woman.
A woman I recognized immediately.
Eleanor Carter.
But the photograph was dated only six months before her death.
My mother had been meeting the man who altered our birth records.
And she had known exactly what happened to Daniel.
The investigator turned the photograph over.
On the back, in Eleanor's handwriting, were seven words:
The original record is with the second daughter.
I looked at Stephanie.
She had gone completely white.
"Why would Mom give it to me?"" she whispered.
Then she reached into her handbag.
"I think I know.""
She pulled out the diamond ring Nathan had given her at our mother's funeral.
The ring she had been wearing for months.
The ring Richard had stolen from Mother's house.
Stephanie turned it over.
A tiny seam ran along the inside.
She pressed it.
A narrow compartment opened.
May you like
Inside was a folded strip of paper.
And a small brass key.
