Chapter 10: The Detective Who Never Forgot
“Before anyone interviewed my mother?”” I repeated.
Detective Harris's voice remained calm, but I could hear traffic in the background and the faint rustle of papers.
“Yes, Miss Carter. According to the archived incident report, your father contacted the police department on the evening of October fourteenth. He reported receiving threats from a family member. The case was marked for follow-up, but that follow-up never happened.””
I stared at the death certificate on the kitchen table.
My mother sat opposite me, her hands clasped so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Lily stood beside the refrigerator, watching us with frightened eyes.
“Who closed the case?”” I asked.
“We're still reviewing that information. I don't want to speculate before we have the complete file.””
“Did my father die in a car accident?””
There was a pause.
“The death certificate lists the family residence as the location. The original incident report describes an emergency medical response. I can't give you a definitive explanation over the phone.””
I looked at my mother.
She lowered her head.
“Detective,” I said, “I have a recording of my father arguing with my uncle on the night he died. I also have a note saying something happened to him.””
“Do not alter the recording or attempt to repair it yourself. Keep the original in a safe place. If possible, make a note of who has handled it and when you discovered it.””
“Can I bring it to you?””
“Yes. I would also like to speak with you and your mother. Separately, if that's more comfortable.””
I looked at Denise.
She was staring at the floor.
“When?”” I asked.
“Tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock. Bring the recording and any documents related to the incident.””
I agreed.
After ending the call, I sat motionless.
For years, I had believed Daniel died on a highway in a storm. I had pictured a stranger's truck crossing a center line, an ambulance racing through the rain, and my mother receiving a telephone call that changed her life forever.
But the official document said he died in our house.
The recording placed Robert there.
And the police had closed an investigation before questioning the one person who had been in the house when Daniel died.
My mother finally lifted her head.
“Olivia, you need to listen to me.””
I pushed the death certificate toward her.
“Tell me the truth.””
“I have told you the truth.””
“You told me Dad died in a car accident.””
She began crying again.
“I was frightened.””
“Of what?””
“Of losing everything.””
I stood.
“You keep saying that. You were frightened of losing the family. You were frightened of losing money.
You were frightened of what people would think. What about me? Did you ever think about what I would lose?””
Her mouth trembled.
“I was trying to protect you.””
“From the truth about my father?””
She nodded faintly.
“From Robert,” she whispered.
Lily moved closer to me.
I took her hand.
“Tell me what happened that night,” I said.
My mother stared at our joined hands.
“Daniel had discovered that Robert might be your biological father. He found an old letter in my desk. I don't know how he found it, but he read it.””
“What letter?””
“A letter Robert had written before you were born.””
“What did it say?””
She closed her eyes.
“He wanted to know whether you were his daughter.””
I felt a cold wave move through me.
“And Daniel confronted you?””
“Yes.””
“What happened next?””
She looked toward the garage.
“Robert came to the house that evening. He said he wanted to talk to Daniel. I told him to leave, but he refused.””
“Why didn't you call the police?””
“Because Robert was my brother.””
I almost shouted.
“That's not an answer!””
“I know!””
Her voice cracked.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she continued.
“Daniel told Robert he would not let him near you until the truth was established. Robert became angry. They argued in the kitchen. I went upstairs because Lily was crying in her room, and I thought they would calm down.””
She stopped.
“What happened when you came back?””
Her eyes filled.
“Daniel was on the floor.””
I gripped the chair.
“Was he breathing?””
“I don't know.””
“Did you call an ambulance?””
She nodded.
“Then why did the police report say the case was closed?””
“I don't know.””
“Did Robert leave?””
She didn't answer.
“Mom!””
“Yes,” she whispered.
“He left before the ambulance arrived.””
My stomach twisted.
“Why didn't you tell the police he was there?””
“Robert said it was an accident. He said Daniel had fallen, and there was nothing anyone could do.””
“You believed him?””
She looked at me helplessly.
“I wanted to believe him.””
I stepped away from the table.
That was the most honest thing she had said all day.
Not that she had been protecting me.
Not that she had been trying to keep the family together.
She had wanted to believe a story that allowed her to avoid confronting what might have happened.
And in doing so, she had allowed me to grow up believing my father had died somewhere far away, beyond anyone's responsibility.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Marcus appeared.
*Marcus: Mom says you're accusing Uncle Robert of killing Dad. Tell me you're not doing this.*
I stared at the screen.
Then I typed back.
*Me: Dad's death certificate says he died at our house. There's a recording of him arguing with Robert that night.*
Marcus called immediately.
I answered.
“What are you talking about?”” he demanded.
“I'm telling you what I found.””
“Mom said you're trying to get Robert arrested because of the money.””
“This has nothing to do with the money anymore.””
“Everything has to do with the money with you!””
I closed my eyes.
“Marcus, Dad died when you were seven. You remember him better than Lily does. Do you remember anything about that night?””
Silence.
Then he said, “No.””
“Are you sure?””
“I was a kid.””
“I know.””
He lowered his voice.
“Olivia, Uncle Robert has always helped us. He paid for my first car. He helped Mom keep the house. If you get him into trouble, what happens to everyone?””
I looked at the death certificate.
“What happens if he did something to Dad?””
Marcus didn't answer.
Then he whispered, “You don't know that he did.””
“No. I don't. That's why I'm going to the police.””
He hung up.
I lowered the phone.
Lily squeezed my hand.
“Are we going to lose our family?”” she asked.
I knelt in front of her.
“No, sweetheart. We're going to find out what happened.””
“What if the truth makes everyone hate each other?””
I brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
“Then we'll have to decide whether a family built on lies is really something we should be trying to save.””
My mother made a wounded sound behind us.
I didn't turn around.
That evening, I took Lily to Jasmine's apartment. Jasmine insisted we stay as long as we needed, and for the first time in years, I slept somewhere without listening for the sound of my mother's footsteps outside my bedroom door.
At 8:15 the next morning, Detective Harris called.
“Miss Carter, I reviewed the initial incident report. There's something you need to know before you come in.””
I sat upright.
“What is it?””
“The responding officers documented a witness statement from your mother. It contradicts the version of events she gave you yesterday.””
I looked toward the window.
“What did she tell them?””
Detective Harris took a breath.
“She stated that your uncle had already left the house before your father collapsed.””
I closed my eyes.
“That's not what she told me.””
“I understand. There's also an inconsistency in the medical examiner's report.””
“What inconsistency?””
“The original report mentions an injury that was not included in the summary used to close the case.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What injury?””
He hesitated.
“I'm not prepared to discuss that until we've verified the record. But there's a second witness whose statement was never taken.””
“Who?””
“Your brother, Marcus Carter.””
My breath caught.
“Marcus was seven.””
“I know. And according to the original incident notes, he was awake when the ambulance arrived.””
Detective Harris paused.
“Miss Carter, do you know whether your brother has ever spoken about what he saw that night?””
I remembered Marcus's message.
Tell me you're not doing this.
Then I remembered his face in the auditorium when Robert shouted that the files shouldn't be shown.
“No,” I whispered.
“Then I suggest you speak with him carefully. Don't pressure him or suggest what he should say.””
I promised I wouldn't.
After the call ended, I opened my messages and typed my brother's name.
Before I could send anything, a new message appeared.
It was from Marcus.
*Marcus: Olivia, I need to tell you something about Dad's last night. But you have to promise you won't tell Mom or Uncle Robert.*
May you like
A second message followed.
*Marcus: I remember what happened after Dad fell. And I remember who came back into the house before the ambulance arrived.*
