Chapter 8: The Uncle Who Buried the Truth
The address James sent belonged to an abandoned country club outside the city.
My father used to take me there during summer holidays.
I remembered the swimming pool, the tennis courts, and the enormous oak tree beside the main entrance.
It had been closed for almost fifteen years.
Now the windows were boarded up, and weeds covered the driveway.
David parked two hundred yards from the entrance.
"You're not going in alone," he said.
James had specifically requested that I come alone.
I looked at the building.
"He's expecting me.""
"That's why I'm coming.""
My mother shook her head.
"David, if James sees you, he'll know we have the original ledger.""
David checked the magazine in his weapon.
"He already knows.""
I turned toward her.
"You're both staying here.""
"Marcus—"
"I've spent my entire life being protected from information. I'm done with that.""
I took the USB drive containing my father's final recording and slipped it into my jacket.
Then I stepped out of the car.
The front doors were unlocked.
Inside, dust covered the reception desk. A broken chandelier hung above the entrance.
At the far end of the hall, a man stood beside the old fireplace.
He was wearing a charcoal suit.
His hair had turned almost completely white.
But I recognized him immediately.
"Uncle James.""
He smiled.
"Look at you. Your father would be proud.""
I stopped several feet away.
"Don't talk about my father.""
James chuckled.
"Still angry. You always were emotional.""
"Why did you pretend to leave the country?""
"Because it was useful.""
"Why did you let me believe my mother was dead?""
His smile disappeared.
"That wasn't my decision.""
"Then whose was it?""
He looked at me for a long moment.
"Your father's.""
I stepped closer.
"You're lying.""
"Your father was a complicated man, Marcus. He loved his family, but he loved his company more.""
"Did you poison him?""
James sighed.
"Straight to the accusations. No curiosity. No patience.""
"Answer the question.""
He walked toward a table and poured himself a drink.
"Your father and I built Carter Global together. He handled the public face. I handled the people who made the business possible.""
"Illegal people?""
"Practical people.""
He took a sip.
"Your father started believing that every business decision needed to be morally perfect. He wanted to expose the network that had helped us grow.""
"Because it was criminal.""
"Because it had become inconvenient.""
I stared at him.
"How much did you steal?""
James smiled.
"Enough to buy the loyalty of people who matter.""
"Twenty-three million?""
"That was pocket change.""
He placed the glass down.
"Do you know how much money passes through Carter Global every year? Your father never understood that the company was worth more than its shareholders.""
I took out my phone.
The recording function was running.
James continued.
"Your father found the offshore accounts. He threatened to report everyone involved. So we had to make a decision.""
My stomach tightened.
"What decision?""
"He was given an opportunity to step aside.""
"And when he refused?""
James looked at the fireplace.
"Richard handled the situation.""
I felt my fingers tighten around the phone.
"Richard poisoned him?""
James didn't answer immediately.
Then he said:
"Richard was supposed to make him sick enough to abandon the investigation. He wasn't supposed to die that quickly.""
My heart hammered.
"You killed my father.""
James looked almost offended.
"Don't be dramatic. I didn't hold the glass.""
"But you ordered it.""
"I gave an instruction. Richard carried it out.""
I took a step forward.
"And my mother?""
James laughed.
"Your mother was the bigger problem.""
"What did you do to her?""
"She stole documents from us. She disappeared before we could retrieve them.""
"She was declared dead.""
"That was arranged.""
I stared at him.
"You arranged her funeral?""
James nodded.
"Your father agreed. It was the easiest way to make everyone stop looking.""
I felt sick.
For eleven years, I had believed my mother was gone.
And my uncle had apparently been sitting at our family table, watching me grieve.
"Why bring me here?""
James opened a briefcase.
Inside was a stack of documents.
"Because I want to make you an offer.""
He slid one toward me.
It was a share transfer agreement.
My father's remaining controlling shares.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
I looked closer.
It was forged.
James tapped the paper.
"Sign the original tomorrow, and I'll make sure you walk away with enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life.""
"And if I refuse?""
"Then the authorities will receive evidence showing you stole millions from Carter Global, arranged Laura Bennett's disappearance, and conspired with your mother to fabricate your father's murder.""
I laughed without humor.
"You really think anyone will believe that?""
James leaned forward.
"Your father was a respected businessman. You're a grieving son who suddenly appeared and started accusing everyone around him. Who do you think the public will believe?""
Before I could answer, the building's lights went out.
A sharp crack echoed from somewhere upstairs.
James ducked.
Two men rushed through a side entrance.
One grabbed my arm.
The other shouted, "Get the ledger!""
I twisted away, striking the first man's wrist against the table.
My phone fell.
James ran toward the back exit.
I chased him.
But before I reached the door, I heard a familiar voice.
"Marcus!""
David.
He appeared at the entrance with my mother behind him.
The two men immediately backed away.
David raised his weapon.
"Drop it!""
One man fled.
The other disappeared through a broken window.
James was gone.
I ran toward the parking area.
A black SUV was already accelerating down the driveway.
I caught one final glimpse of my uncle through the rear window.
He was smiling.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
You should have asked your mother what happened to your sister.
I stared at the screen.
My sister.
I had no sister.
At least, I didn't think I did.
I turned toward my mother.
She had read the message over my shoulder.
Her face crumpled.
"Marcus...""
I stepped back.
"What is he talking about?""
She covered her mouth.
"Your father and I had another child.""
I couldn't speak.
"Her name was Sophie.""
I stared at her.
"Where is she?""
My mother began to cry.
"She's alive.""
I gripped her shoulders.
"Where?""
She looked toward the empty road.
"James took her eleven years ago.""
Everything suddenly made sense.
The disappearance.
The fake death.
The years of silence.
My mother hadn't simply been hiding from my uncle.
May you like
She had been searching for someone.
And my father had died trying to bring his daughter home.
