Chapter 5: Thirty Minutes to Remember
Agent Morgan called for backup while I stood at the kitchen window, staring into the darkness.
Patricia had been the closest thing Ava had to a second mother after Rachel died. She had helped with school pickups, birthdays, and the quiet disasters that came with raising a teenager alone.
If someone had hurt her because she tried to tell me the truth, I would never forgive myself.
Morgan ended her call.
"Two units are heading to Patricia's house. Another team is checking nearby hospitals.""
"Take me there.""
"No.""
"She's family.""
"And you're a potential witness in a murder investigation. I can't let you walk into an active crime scene.""
I stepped toward her.
"My daughter has been kidnapped, my sister-in-law may be dead, and someone is trying to convince me I killed my wife. Don't tell me to sit still.""
Morgan held my gaze.
"Then help me find the truth instead of making another mistake someone can use against you.""
I wanted to argue.
Instead, I pulled Rachel's journal from the table and opened it to the last page.
The torn section had left a jagged strip of paper along the binding.
I ran my finger over it.
Rachel had always hidden things in plain sight. When we were first married, she'd taped our anniversary letters beneath the kitchen table. She once hid my birthday present inside a box of old tax records because she knew I'd never look there voluntarily.
If Patricia was telling the truth, Rachel had chosen a hiding place no one would suspect.
The one place nobody would think to look.
I looked toward the staircase.
"Her piano.""
Morgan frowned.
"What?""
"Rachel's piano. She used to say music was the only place she could hide from the world.""
The piano had remained untouched in the living room since her death. Ava occasionally played it, but neither of us had the heart to move it.
I rushed downstairs.
The black upright piano stood beside the window, its polished surface reflecting the streetlights.
I knelt and examined the underside.
Nothing.
I opened the bench and searched beneath the sheet music.
Still nothing.
"Daniel," Morgan called from the doorway.
"What are you looking for?""
"Something Rachel hid.""
I checked the back panel, then ran my fingers along the wooden frame beneath the keys.
My hand caught on a small metal latch.
I pressed it.
A narrow compartment sprang open.
Inside lay a sealed envelope, a flash drive, and a folded piece of paper bearing Rachel's handwriting.
My hands began to shake.
The envelope contained a letter addressed to me.
Daniel, if you're reading this, then I failed to protect you from the truth.
I swallowed hard and continued.
I found evidence that someone has been using our company to move money for a criminal organization. Mark helped me trace the transfers, but he became frightened when we discovered that the money was connected to a federal investigation.
I don't know how much of what he told me is true. I don't know whether he's protecting us or protecting himself.
But I know one thing. Someone has been altering my medical records.
I stopped reading.
Morgan moved closer.
"Keep going.""
The next paragraph was written in darker ink, as though Rachel had pressed the pen hard against the paper.
*I confronted Dr. Whitmore. He admitted that someone had paid him to change my medication records.
He refused to tell me who. Before I could get more information, he warned me that Daniel had already signed the authorization.*
My fingers went numb.
If something happens to me, please don't assume Daniel knew what he was signing. Mark has been bringing him documents while he's exhausted and distracted. I believe someone is using his signature to make him responsible for things he never agreed to.
I looked at Morgan.
"She knew.""
Morgan nodded slowly.
"She suspected someone was setting you up.""
I read the final lines.
The evidence is on the drive. But the drive alone isn't enough. The original authorization is hidden somewhere only Ava knows about.
My chest tightened.
Please protect our daughter. And Daniel, if you remember nothing else, remember this: the night I died, I woke up long enough to see the person who wanted me dead.
The letter ended there.
I stared at the final sentence.
"Who did she see?"" I whispered.
Morgan took the flash drive.
"We'll have a forensic team examine this. But we need to locate the original authorization.""
"How could Ava know where it is?""
"Rachel may have told her.""
A memory surfaced.
Ava was fourteen, sitting beside her mother's bed, drawing pictures on the back of hospital paperwork. Rachel had asked her to put something away for safekeeping.
I'd assumed it was a drawing.
I remembered the small silver bracelet Rachel had placed in Ava's palm that evening.
"She hid it in the bracelet," I said.
Morgan nodded.
"Which is why the kidnappers took it.""
My phone rang again.
The same unknown number.
I answered on speaker.
A distorted male voice filled the room.
"Have you found it, Daniel?""
"Who are you?""
"You have twenty-seven minutes.""
"I found Rachel's letter.""
A brief silence followed.
Then the man laughed.
"Of course you did. Rachel always believed paper could save people.""
"What do you want?""
"The original authorization. The one with your signature.""
"I don't have it.""
"Then you have a problem.""
"If you want the document, let Ava go.""
"Bring us the authorization, and your daughter walks away.""
"How do I know she's alive?""
The man paused.
"Ask your friend Mark.""
A video arrived on my phone.
I pressed play.
Ava sat in a bare room, her hands tied to the arms of a metal chair. Her cheek was swollen, and a strip of tape hung loosely from one wrist.
A man stood behind her, holding the silver bracelet.
"Tell your father what you told us," he ordered.
Ava looked directly into the camera.
"Mom told me to hide the paper inside the bracelet. She said it was important.""
The man pulled her head backward by her hair.
"Where is the paper?""
Ava winced.
"I don't know. Mom never told me what it meant.""
He released her.
Then he leaned toward the camera.
"Twenty minutes, Daniel.""
The video ended.
I felt something inside me break.
Morgan took the phone from my hand.
"We're going to use this to trace the transmission.""
"How long will that take?""
"Longer than twenty minutes.""
I looked at the clock.
11:31 p.m.
Midnight had once seemed like an arbitrary deadline.
Now every passing second felt like a knife moving closer to my daughter's throat.
I turned to the letter again, searching for anything I might have missed.
The final line contained a small handwritten symbol: a circle crossed by two diagonal lines.
I recognized it.
Rachel used to draw that symbol on our anniversary cards. She called it our private mark, a reminder that no matter how complicated life became, we would always find our way back to each other.
I looked at the flash drive.
Then at the envelope.
Something didn't fit.
Rachel had hidden the letter and evidence inside the piano, but she'd left the original authorization somewhere only Ava knew about.
Why separate them?
Unless she hadn't trusted the piano to remain safe.
I checked the envelope again.
A tiny line of writing appeared beneath the flap.
If Mark is still alive, don't let him choose what happens next.
I showed Morgan.
Her expression hardened.
"That changes things.""
Before I could respond, the front door opened.
Mark stood in the entrance, soaked from the rain, a dark stain spreading across his shirt.
He held a pistol pointed at the floor.
Morgan drew her weapon.
"Drop it!""
Mark placed the gun on the floor and kicked it toward her.
Then he looked at me.
"I know where Ava is.""
I moved toward him.
"Where?""
He swallowed.
"But before I tell you, you need to understand why Rachel was killed.""
He reached into his jacket and removed a photograph.
It showed Rachel in her hospital bed, her hand wrapped around a man's wrist.
The man's face was hidden.
But his wedding ring was clearly visible.
My wedding ring.
Mark's voice broke.
"Daniel, you were there that night.""
May you like
He stepped closer.
"And you did something you don't remember.""
