Chapter 12: The Photograph My Mother Hid
I walked back into the kitchen.
My mother immediately placed the photograph on the counter.
"Marcus, please.""
I looked at it.
It showed my father standing outside a restaurant with three people.
My mother.
Robert Keller.
And a woman I didn't recognize.
The date was printed in the corner.
*November 14, 2015.*
The night my father died.
I picked it up.
"Who took this?""
My mother sat down.
"I did.""
"Why?""
"Because your father asked me to.""
I examined the photograph.
Everyone looked serious.
My father wasn't smiling.
Robert was standing close to him, holding a briefcase.
The unknown woman stood beside my mother.
"Who's she?""
My mother stared at the picture.
"Her name was Linda Parker.""
"Was?""
"She died two years ago.""
I looked up.
"How?""
"She was found dead in her apartment.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Why was she with you and Dad?""
My mother folded her hands.
"Linda worked for Robert Keller. She handled the financial records for his investment firm.""
"Was she involved in the money?""
"Yes.""
"Then why was she meeting Dad?""
My mother looked at me.
"Because she had discovered where the missing money was going.""
I sat down.
"Tell me.""
She took a long breath.
"Your father had spent months investigating Robert. He found out that money from the original investment fund was being transferred into accounts connected to Richard Hayes.""
"Devon's father.""
She nodded.
"But the money wasn't being used for investments. It was being used to purchase properties and private assets.""
"Who was benefiting?""
"Robert.""
I looked at the photograph again.
"And Linda?""
"She had copies of the transactions. She wanted to give them to your father.""
I studied the image.
"Then what happened?""
My mother closed her eyes.
"Robert found out about the meeting.""
"And Dad went to confront him?""
"Yes.""
"Was Linda there when he died?""
She began crying.
"No.""
"Then who was?""
My mother looked directly at me.
"Your father. Robert. And me.""
I felt a chill move through my body.
"You were there?""
She nodded.
"After the restaurant, we drove to an office building. Your father wanted to confront Robert with the evidence.""
"What happened inside?""
My mother stared at the photograph.
"They argued. Robert accused your father of stealing from the investment fund. Your father accused him of murdering Richard Hayes.""
I leaned forward.
"Did Robert admit it?""
"He said Richard had become a liability.""
My stomach tightened.
"And then?""
My mother covered her mouth.
"Robert pulled out a gun.""
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
"What?""
"He threatened your father. He told him to sign the transfer agreement.""
"Did Dad sign?""
"No.""
"Then what happened?""
My mother began shaking.
"I heard a gunshot.""
I stood so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor.
"Did Robert shoot him?""
She looked at me.
"I don't know.""
"You were there!""
"I was in the hallway!""
I stared at her.
She continued through tears.
"When I entered the room, your father was on the floor. Robert was standing beside him. There was blood on his shirt.""
I felt sick.
"What did you do?""
"I screamed.""
"And Robert?""
"He told me that if I called the police, he would make sure you were arrested for the financial fraud.""
I shook my head.
"That makes no sense.""
"He said he had evidence showing your name on the transfers. He said you would spend the rest of your life in prison.""
I stared at her.
"So you helped him?""
She lowered her head.
"I helped him move the documents. I didn't know what else to do.""
I stepped backward.
For eleven years, my mother had carried the secret that she was present when my father was shot.
And she had allowed me to believe he died in an accident.
"Did Dad survive?""
She looked at me.
"I don't know.""
My chest tightened.
"What do you mean?""
"By the time I left the building, your father was still breathing.""
I grabbed the counter.
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
"Robert said he would take him to the hospital.""
I stared at her.
"And you believed him?""
She began crying harder.
"I wanted to believe him.""
I turned away.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I asked the question that had been haunting me since I watched the video.
"Where was Dad's body found?""
"On the highway.""
"How far from the building?""
"About twenty miles.""
I looked at her.
"Who moved him?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know.""
But her eyes told me she was hiding something else.
The next morning, I met Detective Sarah Mitchell at the police station.
She had been assigned to the renewed investigation after Rebecca submitted the recovered documents.
She listened without interrupting while I explained what my mother had told me.
When I finished, she opened a file.
"Mr. Reed, there's something you should know.""
"What?""
"Your father's original accident investigation contains several inconsistencies.""
"Such as?""
"The vehicle was found with damage inconsistent with the reported collision.""
I leaned forward.
"Meaning?""
"The police report stated that your father lost control and struck a barrier. But the damage pattern suggests the vehicle may have been struck from behind before leaving the road.""
I stared at her.
"Was that investigated?""
"Not properly.""
"Why?""
She turned a page.
"The original investigating officer retired shortly afterward. Several photographs were missing from the evidence file.""
I felt anger rising.
"Who handled the case?""
Detective Mitchell looked at the report.
"Detective William Carter.""
I recognized the name.
My father had mentioned him once.
"Where is he now?""
"Retired. Living in Arizona.""
She closed the file.
"We're contacting him.""
I nodded.
Then she handed me another document.
"We also reviewed Linda Parker's death.""
"What did you find?""
"Her apartment was searched shortly before she died. Several financial documents disappeared.""
"Was anyone questioned?""
"Robert Keller.""
"And?""
"He claimed she was stealing from his company.""
I stared at the report.
"Was that true?""
"We found no evidence supporting his accusation.""
Detective Mitchell leaned forward.
"Mr. Reed, I want to ask you something.""
"Go ahead.""
"Does your mother have any idea where Linda Parker's original records might be?""
I thought about the photograph.
Then I remembered my mother's earlier words.
She wanted to give them to your father.
"Possibly.""
"Can you ask her?""
I nodded.
But before I could leave, my phone rang.
Rebecca.
"Marcus, you need to come back to the office.""
"What happened?""
"We found the missing money.""
I stood.
"Where?""
"Inside an account that was created using your father's personal identification.""
I frowned.
"That's impossible. He died eleven years ago.""
"I know.""
"Who owns the account?""
Rebecca hesitated.
Then she said:
"According to the bank records, the account belongs to Marcus Reed.""
I stopped breathing.
"What?""
"The account was opened in your name eleven years ago. It contains the original investment funds, plus accumulated interest.""
"How much?""
"Approximately fourteen million dollars.""
I stared at Detective Mitchell.
"Who has access?""
Rebecca's voice became quieter.
"That's the problem.""
"Tell me.""
"Someone recently changed the account's recovery information.""
"To whose name?""
There was a pause.
Then Rebecca answered.
"Devon Hayes.""
I closed my eyes.
"Freeze it.""
"We're trying. But the bank says the account was already accessed this morning.""
"By Devon?""
"No.""
"Then who?""
Rebecca took a breath.
"Your mother.""
I arrived at the office twenty minutes later.
Rebecca was waiting with the bank's transaction history.
My mother's name appeared beside the latest withdrawal.
Fourteen million dollars had not been moved.
But a substantial portion had.
*$3,500,000.*
The transfer had gone to an account in Switzerland.
I looked at Rebecca.
"Why would my mother take three and a half million dollars?""
"I don't know.""
"Where is she now?""
"At home, according to Daniel.""
I called her.
No answer.
I called again.
Still nothing.
Then a text arrived.
It was from my mother.
*Marcus, I'm sorry. I had to do it.*
A second message followed.
*Your father didn't die because of the money. He died because he discovered who Devon really was.*
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
*And I know where the missing three and a half million went.*
Before I could reply, my mother sent a final photograph.
It showed a hospital room.
An elderly man lay in the bed.
His face was thin, his hair almost completely white.
But I recognized him.
Robert Keller.
And standing beside his bed was Tiana.
She was holding a folder.
May you like
On the back of the photograph, my mother had written:
*She's not working for Devon anymore. She's working for the person who actually ordered your father's murder.*
