Chapter 13: The Man Who Had Been Hiding the Truth
The first officer knocked three times before my father opened the door.
Daniel Brooks stood behind them in a charcoal suit, holding a leather briefcase. He looked exactly as he had at every Collins family gathering for the past twenty years: composed, respectable, almost painfully ordinary.
That was what frightened me most.
Men like Brooks didn't need to look dangerous. They only needed people to believe they weren't.
"Richard Collins?"" the older officer asked.
My father nodded.
"We have a warrant to search the premises for documents and other evidence related to the disappearance of James Jackson, financial fraud involving Bennett Development Group, and the destruction or concealment of records.""
My father stepped aside.
"Of course.""
Brooks entered behind the officers.
His gaze passed over me, then Andre, then the documents spread across the desk.
For the briefest moment, his expression changed.
It was small enough that someone who hadn't spent the last several days learning to distrust every polite smile might have missed it.
But I saw it.
He recognized the papers.
And he was afraid.
"Emily," he said softly.
"I wish we weren't meeting under these circumstances.""
"Then you should have told the truth years ago.""
His smile disappeared.
Andre stood beside the desk, holding his father's letter.
"You told my father you'd keep the original evidence safe.""
Brooks set his briefcase down.
"I did.""
"Where is it?""
"That depends on what you mean by the original evidence.""
Andre stepped closer.
"Don't play games with me.""
The older officer interrupted.
"Mr. Brooks, you're not here to conduct an interview. If you have information relevant to this investigation, you'll have an opportunity to provide it through the proper channels.""
Brooks nodded obediently.
Then he looked at my father.
"Richard, I strongly advise you not to make any statements without legal counsel.""
My father laughed bitterly.
"You're my legal counsel.""
"Not in this matter.""
"Especially not in this matter.""
The officers began searching the study.
One photographed the documents. Another opened drawers and checked the shelves. A third carried the metal cash box my father had brought to the abandoned office, now recovered from his car, toward the hallway.
Brooks watched them with growing tension.
Then Andre placed the photograph of James on the desk.
"Thomas Reed saw my father three months ago. He says you received the photograph that could lead us to him.""
Brooks looked at the picture.
"I received many documents over the years.""
"Did you give it to Edward Vale?""
"No.""
"Did you give it to Evelyn Vale?""
Brooks's eyes flickered.
Andre noticed.
"So you know her.""
"I have represented dozens of clients connected to Bennett Development Group.""
"That's not what I asked.""
Brooks turned toward the officers.
"I don't believe this conversation is appropriate.""
Andre leaned forward.
"My father disappeared. My mother spent years wondering whether he was dead. You accepted money from Richard Collins after her death, and now you want to hide behind professional etiquette?""
Brooks's jaw tightened.
"I accepted payment for legal services.""
"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars the morning after Margaret Collins's funeral?""
For the first time, Brooks had no immediate answer.
My father stood up.
"Tell him.""
Brooks looked at him.
"Richard, please.""
"Tell him what happened to James.""
Brooks's face hardened.
"You don't understand the consequences of what you're asking.""
"I understand them perfectly.""
My father pointed at the folder.
"Margaret kept copies. James left records. You took the photograph.
You accepted the payment. And you let us believe that everything had been settled.""
Brooks lowered his voice.
"You signed the settlement too.""
"Because you told me James was safe.""
"I told you the situation had been handled.""
"Those are not the same thing.""
The older officer returned from the hallway.
"Mr. Brooks, I need you to step outside with me.""
Brooks picked up his briefcase.
Before leaving, he turned toward Andre.
"Your father made a choice twenty years ago. You may not like it, but he wasn't the innocent man you've imagined.""
Andre went very still.
"What does that mean?""
Brooks said nothing.
The officer guided him toward the door.
Andre started after him, but I caught his arm.
"Don't.""
He looked at me, breathing hard.
"He's trying to make me doubt everything.""
"I know.""
"Then why does he sound so certain?""
I had no answer.
For the next two hours, the house filled with the sounds of drawers opening, paper rustling, and officers documenting every item they removed.
They took the financial records, the photograph, my mother's letter, and the envelope containing James's correspondence.
My father watched each item disappear into an evidence bag.
When the officers finally left, he sat down heavily.
"I thought keeping those documents would protect you.""
I stood across from him.
"You protected yourself.""
He looked up.
"Emily—"
"You were afraid of losing your company. You were afraid of Vale. You were afraid of what people would think if they learned what you'd done. So you let everyone else carry the consequences.""
His eyes filled with tears.
"I know.""
I wanted to forgive him.
Part of me desperately wanted to return to the time when I could sit across from him at dinner and believe that everything he did was meant to protect our family.
But that girl no longer existed.
"I don't know how to trust you," I said.
He nodded.
"I don't expect you to.""
Andre had remained silent throughout our conversation.
Now he approached my father.
"Did Brooks ever tell you where my father was?""
My father rubbed his forehead.
"Not directly. But after Margaret died, he told me James had contacted him through an intermediary. He said James was living under another name.""
"Which name?""
"I don't know.""
"Did Brooks say where?""
My father shook his head.
Andre stared at him for a long moment.
Then he asked the question I had been afraid to hear.
"Did you ever try to find him?""
My father looked down.
"Once.""
"When?""
"About six years ago. I received a letter from someone claiming to represent James. They said he was living outside the country and wanted money to help him establish a new identity.""
Andre's expression changed.
"Did you pay?""
"Yes.""
"How much?""
"Fifty thousand dollars.""
"To whom?""
"Daniel Brooks.""
Andre turned away, his face white with anger.
"Another payment.""
My father nodded.
"I thought it might be him.""
"Did you ask for proof?""
"No.""
Andre let out a short, broken laugh.
"You paid a man who had already lied to you, hoping he'd deliver the father I'd spent twenty years mourning.""
"I thought I was helping.""
"You were helping yourself feel less guilty.""
My father didn't respond.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Rebecca appeared.
*Thomas is stable. He remembered something important about the photograph. Call me.*
I stepped into the hallway and dialed.
"What's happened?""
"Thomas spoke with Detective Bennett again," Rebecca said.
"He says the photograph he gave Brooks wasn't just a clue to the evidence. It contained a second message hidden inside the frame.""
"What message?""
"A name and a location.""
I looked back toward the study.
"Which name?""
"James told Thomas that if anything happened to him, he should look for a woman named Evelyn Vale. She was supposed to be the one person inside the family who could prove the financial records were genuine.""
I remembered the transfer in my father's folder.
Evelyn Vale.
The daughter of the man who had destroyed Andre's family.
"Where is she?""
"Detective Bennett is trying to locate her. But there's a problem.""
"What?""
"Her private investment office reported her missing this morning.""
My blood turned cold.
"Missing?""
"Her car was found at the airport. Her phone has been switched off. And someone emptied her personal office over the weekend.""
I looked through the study doorway at Andre.
He was staring at his father's letter.
Rebecca continued.
"There's one more thing. Thomas remembered the location written on the back of the photograph. It wasn't a street address. It was a building code.""
"What building?""
"The old Bennett Development archive facility.""
I knew the name.
It was a warehouse outside Nashville that had supposedly been demolished years earlier.
According to my father, the building had stored financial records before Vale transferred his business operations to another state.
"Why would Evelyn go there?"" I asked.
Rebecca hesitated.
"Because, according to Thomas, James told him that was where the original records were kept.""
I returned to the study and told Andre everything.
He listened without speaking.
When I finished, he folded his father's letter and placed it inside his jacket.
"Then that's where we're going.""
"Andre, the police are investigating.""
"Good. We'll tell Detective Bennett what we know.""
"And if Evelyn is there?""
He looked at me.
"Then we'll finally hear the truth from someone who knows where my father went.""
Before we could leave, my father's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen and answered.
"Hello?""
A woman's voice came through the speaker, faint but unmistakable.
"Richard, it's Evelyn.""
My father went rigid.
Andre stepped closer.
"Evelyn Vale?"" I whispered.
My father nodded.
The voice on the phone sounded frightened.
"Listen carefully. Daniel has been lying to you. Edward didn't disappear James. James agreed to disappear because he believed it was the only way to keep Andre alive.""
Andre's face drained of color.
"What did she say?"" he demanded.
My father held the phone toward him.
Andre spoke into it.
"Evelyn. This is Andre Jackson. Where is my father?""
There was a pause.
Then Evelyn whispered:
"He's closer than you think.""
A door slammed on her end of the line.
May you like
Someone shouted.
And the call went dead.
