Chapter 9: The Last Forty Minutes
I couldn't speak.
Daniel's words repeated in my mind.
When I came back forty minutes later, he was dead.
I looked at Jonathan.
He was already signaling for me to put the call on speaker.
"Daniel," I said slowly.
"Why did you go back?""
His breathing was uneven.
"Because I forgot something.""
"What?""
"My briefcase.""
I looked at the visitor log.
The brown leather briefcase.
"What was inside it?""
"Documents.""
"Which documents?""
"Nia, please. I need you to listen.""
I stood and walked toward the hotel window.
"You have eleven years of explaining to do. Start with the truth.""
Daniel was silent.
Then he said, "Your father asked me to meet him that morning. He had discovered the transfers and wanted me to help him expose Martin.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I was involved.""
"In the theft?""
"Yes.""
I closed my eyes.
He continued.
"I thought it was temporary. Martin told me he was moving money between accounts to protect the company from a hostile takeover. Patricia was handling the paperwork. I was approving transfers because I had executive access.""
"And the house purchased in my name?""
"That was Martin's idea.""
"Why?""
"Because he wanted an asset he could use if the company collapsed.""
I turned toward Jonathan.
He was taking notes.
"Did you know my signature was forged?""
Daniel hesitated.
"I knew the paperwork was being prepared.""
"That's not an answer.""
"I suspected it.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"You suspected someone was forging my signature, and you did nothing?""
"I thought it would be corrected.""
"How convenient.""
Daniel's voice became desperate.
"Nia, I was twenty-four. I was terrified of losing everything. Patricia told me the company would fail if Martin's plan wasn't completed.""
"So you helped them.""
"Yes.""
The admission landed harder than any excuse.
"Did you know what happened to my father?""
"No.""
"Then explain the medication.""
He exhaled.
"Martin told me your father was taking the wrong medication. He said the doctor had made a mistake and that Patricia had arranged a correction.""
I stared at the wall.
"Did you believe him?""
"At the time, yes.""
"And the recording?""
"I was trying to explain that I didn't know what Martin intended.""
"Your father asked you why you had helped Martin access his medication records.""
Daniel's voice cracked.
"I told him I thought Martin was trying to protect the company.""
"Did you bring medication to my father's house?""
Silence.
"Daniel?""
"I brought an envelope.""
"What was inside?""
"Documents. A medication schedule. I was supposed to leave it with your father.""
"Did you?""
"No.""
"Why?""
"Because he became angry when he saw it.""
I felt sick.
"What happened next?""
"He told me to leave.""
"Then?""
"I left.""
"And returned?""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"Because I remembered the briefcase.""
I looked at Jonathan.
"Did you see my father when you returned?""
Daniel began crying.
"Yes.""
"Was he alive?""
A long silence.
Then he whispered:
"No.""
Rebecca stood abruptly.
"He's lying.""
I turned toward her.
"What?""
She stepped closer.
"Your father told me something before he died. He said if Daniel ever admitted returning to the house, we should ask him about the kitchen clock.""
I froze.
"What kitchen clock?""
Rebecca looked at me.
"The old clock in your father's kitchen. It stopped at 8:03.""
I looked at Jonathan.
The visitor log showed Daniel had left at 8:03.
My father had supposedly died at 8:41.
I picked up the phone.
"Daniel, what time did you return?""
He didn't answer.
"Daniel!""
"Eight twenty.""
Rebecca shook her head.
"That's impossible.""
I stared at her.
"Why?""
"Because your father called me at 8:17.""
My blood ran cold.
"Are you sure?""
Rebecca nodded.
"He told me he was waiting for someone. He said he had finally found the evidence.""
I turned back to the phone.
"Daniel, who did you see when you returned?""
He whispered something.
I couldn't hear it.
"What?""
"Patricia.""
The room fell silent.
Daniel continued.
"She was standing in the kitchen. Your father was on the floor.""
Rebecca grabbed my arm.
"What did she say?""
I repeated the question.
Daniel began breathing heavily.
"She told me to leave. She said she'd already called for help.""
"Did you believe her?""
"I didn't know what to do.""
"You left?""
"Yes.""
I stared at the phone.
"You left my father dying on the floor?""
"I thought the ambulance was coming!""
"And you never told me?""
"I was afraid!""
I felt tears burning my eyes.
"Of what, Daniel? Losing your money? Your position? Your mother's approval?""
He said nothing.
I ended the call.
Rebecca sat beside me.
For the first time since meeting her, she reached for my hand.
"I am sorry.""
I looked at her.
"Did Dad know Patricia would be there?""
"I don't know.""
"Did he know Daniel was coming back?""
She shook her head.
Jonathan stood.
"We need to establish exactly what happened at the house. We also need to locate Patricia and Martin.""
He picked up his phone.
But before he could make a call, the hotel room door opened.
A security officer stepped inside.
"Mr. Reed, there's a problem.""
Jonathan turned.
"What?""
"Someone has accessed the company's archive system.""
My stomach tightened.
"Who?""
The officer handed him a printed security alert.
"An account belonging to a former administrator. The access originated from outside the country.""
Jonathan examined the page.
Then he looked at me.
"They've deleted several files.""
"Which files?""
He swallowed.
"The original medical records from your father's final week.""
Rebecca stood.
"That's not possible. Those files were on the backup server.""
Jonathan checked the alert again.
"Someone attempted to access the backup, too.""
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
*You have been warned. Stop looking into William Hayes's death.*
A second message followed.
*Martin has the original recording. Rebecca only gave you a copy.*
I looked at my sister.
Her face had gone pale.
"Is that true?""
She shook her head.
"I gave you everything Dad gave me.""
Jonathan took the phone.
"We need to get you both somewhere secure.""
Then Rebecca suddenly remembered something.
"Wait.""
She opened her handbag and pulled out a small notebook.
"I forgot something.""
"What?""
"After Dad died, Martin called me. He said he had something that belonged to my father and that I should never try to contact Nia.""
She opened the notebook.
A handwritten address was visible on the last page.
Beneath it was a date.
The day my father died.
And one sentence.
*The original evidence is inside the safe at the old Hayes property.*
I stared.
"The old property?""
Rebecca nodded.
"Your father's first house. The one he sold before the company became successful.""
Jonathan looked concerned.
"Does anyone else know about this?""
Rebecca shook her head.
"Only me.""
I picked up my coat.
"Then we're going.""
Jonathan immediately objected.
"Absolutely not. If Martin knows about the safe, the property may already be compromised.""
"Then we need to find out.""
He looked at me for a long moment.
Finally, he called his security team.
"Two vehicles. No public itinerary. Nobody travels alone.""
An hour later, we arrived at a small white house on the outskirts of town.
It looked nothing like the mansion Patricia loved showing off.
The paint was peeling.
The front porch sagged slightly.
The garden had grown wild.
But I recognized the place from old photographs.
It was where my father had started his first business.
Rebecca unlocked the front door.
Inside, dust covered the furniture.
A faded photograph of my father and mother stood on the mantel.
I touched its frame.
Then Rebecca led us toward a small study.
"The safe is behind this cabinet.""
Jonathan and I moved the cabinet aside.
A steel safe was embedded in the wall.
Rebecca entered a six-digit code.
Nothing happened.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
I looked at the photograph on the mantel.
My father had written a date on the back.
The day my parents had married.
I entered the numbers.
The safe clicked.
Inside was a thick envelope, a small recorder, and a sealed medical report.
I reached for the report first.
The first page contained my father's medication history.
The second listed the prescriptions administered during his final hours.
The third page contained a handwritten note from a doctor.
I read it once.
Then again.
*Patient received medication inconsistent with prescribed treatment. Cause and timing require further investigation.*
My hands began trembling.
But the final page was worse.
It contained the name of the person who had collected the medication from the hospital pharmacy.
Patricia Whitmore.
And beneath her signature was another name.
*Daniel Whitmore — Witness.*
I turned toward Rebecca.
Before I could speak, the old recorder on the shelf suddenly activated.
A man's voice filled the room.
My father's voice.
"Nia, if you've found this, then Patricia and Martin have succeeded in hiding the truth for longer than I ever imagined.""
There was a pause.
Then he said:
"But there is one person you must never blame until you've heard the entire recording.""
A faint noise followed.
A door opening.
My father's voice became quieter.
"Because the person who brought the medication into my house was not the person who put it there.""
Then the recording stopped.
May you like
And on the recorder's small display, one final file appeared.
*DANIEL — FULL CONFESSION.*
Related Stories
