Chapter 3: The Envelope in the Locked Cabinet
I followed Opal into her study.
The room smelled of old books, polished wood, and the faint lavender scent that followed her everywhere.
She unlocked a tall cabinet and removed a thick brown envelope.
"Sit down, Rebecca.""
I remained standing.
"Why do you have documents from my company?""
"Because my husband kept records of every business transaction he ever made.""
She placed the envelope on the desk.
"Seven years ago, Walter discovered that someone had been moving money out of our company through a series of shell businesses.""
"How much?""
"Almost two million dollars.""
I stared at her.
"Who did it?""
"We never proved it.""
She opened the envelope.
Inside were bank statements, photocopied contracts, handwritten notes, and several photographs.
She spread the papers across the desk.
"After Walter died, I hired an investigator. He discovered that one of the companies receiving our money was connected to a business in Columbus.""
My throat tightened.
"Which business?""
She pointed to a statement.
"Hale Medical Supplies.""
I pulled the document closer.
The account number was unfamiliar, but the transaction description wasn't.
I recognized the date.
It was one of the dates prosecutors had used during my trial.
"That's impossible.""
Opal watched me.
"Why?""
"Because I was told those transfers went to a private account controlled by me.""
"Did you ever see this account before?""
"No.""
I examined the next page.
Another transfer.
Another date.
Another amount.
The same pattern that had appeared in my criminal case.
"These are the transactions that put me in prison.""
Opal nodded.
"That's what I suspected.""
I felt the room tilt.
"Why didn't you come forward?""
Her expression hardened.
"I tried.""
She pulled another folder from the cabinet.
"After Walter discovered the theft, he confronted his business partner. Two weeks later, that man disappeared. The company records vanished. Then Walter died before he could finish his investigation.""
She paused.
"His death was ruled natural.""
I looked at her.
"What was his partner's name?""
"Richard Voss.""
She showed me a photograph.
A man in his late fifties stood beside Walter and Trevor.
Trevor's arm rested casually across the man's shoulder.
I had never seen Richard Voss before.
But I recognized the other man standing beside him.
My husband.
"Trevor knew him," I whispered.
"Yes.""
"How?""
"That is one of the questions I've never been able to answer.""
I sat down.
My hands were shaking.
For four years, I had believed Trevor and Monica had stolen from me because they wanted my company and my money.
But this was bigger.
Someone had used my business to move money stolen from Opal's family.
And somehow, Trevor had been involved long before my arrest.
Opal turned another page.
"Look at the dates.""
I leaned closer.
The earliest transfer had occurred three weeks before my arrest.
The latest had happened two days before the police searched my office.
Then I saw a handwritten note attached to the back.
The handwriting was familiar.
It was Monica's.
I knew because she had written birthday cards to me for twenty years.
The note read:
"Rebecca must take the blame. Trevor and Monica have agreed.""
My mouth went dry.
"Where did you get this?""
"From a private investigator Walter hired before his death.""
"Who wrote it?""
"I don't know.""
"But it's my sister's handwriting.""
Opal looked at me.
"Are you certain?""
"I'd recognize it anywhere.""
I touched the paper.
My sister had planned my destruction.
Not just helped cover up a theft.
Planned it.
I remembered the last time Monica had visited me in prison.
She had brought photographs of my former house.
She had shown me the new kitchen.
The expensive furniture.
The garden I had planted.
Then she had said, "You should stop fighting, Rebecca. You're only making things harder for yourself.""
I had thought she was being cruel.
Now I understood.
She had known exactly what she was doing.
Opal reached across the desk and placed her hand over mine.
"There's something else.""
She pulled out a second photograph.
It showed Trevor and Monica standing outside a restaurant.
The date was three weeks before my arrest.
A third person stood between them.
Richard Voss.
On the back was another handwritten message.
"Once Rebecca is convicted, the remaining funds will be released.""
I stared at the words.
My eyes filled with tears, but I refused to cry.
"How much money?""
Opal hesitated.
"According to Walter's records, approximately $2.8 million was moved through the accounts connected to this operation.""
"That's more than what disappeared from my company.""
"Yes.""
"Where did the rest go?""
She didn't answer.
Instead, she reached into the envelope and removed a small black flash drive.
"Walter left this with his attorney. I received it several months after his death.""
"What is on it?""
"Scanned financial records. Correspondence. And something else.""
"What?""
"A recorded conversation.""
I stared at her.
"Between whom?""
"Trevor and Richard Voss.""
My heart began pounding.
"Have you listened to it?""
"Only once.""
"What did they say?""
Opal looked toward the study window.
"Enough to convince me that your conviction wasn't an accident.""
I stood.
"Then we need to take this to the police.""
"Not yet.""
"Why not?""
"Because I don't know who else is involved.""
She lowered her voice.
"Rebecca, someone has been watching this house. I believe they know I still have these documents.""
Suddenly, three violent knocks shook the front door.
We both froze.
Another series followed.
A man's voice echoed through the hallway.
"Mrs. Hargrove! Open the door!""
Opal's face went pale.
I stepped toward the window.
A black SUV was parked behind the familiar gray sedan.
Two men stood on the porch.
One of them was holding a phone.
"Mrs. Hargrove!"" he shouted again.
"We know Rebecca Hale is staying here!""
My stomach dropped.
"How do they know I'm here?""
Opal grabbed my wrist.
"Stay away from the windows.""
The man outside struck the door with his fist.
"We're not leaving until you hand over what belongs to us!""
I looked at the envelope.
Then at the flash drive.
"Mrs. Hargrove, should I call the police?""
"Not yet.""
She hurried to the locked cabinet and pushed aside a stack of old files.
Behind them was a small metal compartment.
She placed the flash drive inside and turned the key.
I couldn't understand why she was hiding it instead of calling for help.
Then she looked directly into my eyes.
"Rebecca, listen carefully. That man isn't here to take you back to prison.""
"Then what does he want?""
Opal swallowed.
"Your husband just discovered that I've been keeping something in this house.""
The knocking stopped.
For one terrifying second, the hallway fell silent.
Then a voice came from the other side of the door.
A voice I knew better than my own.
"Rebecca? I know you're in there.""
Trevor.
My husband.
And he wasn't alone.
Because the next voice I heard belonged to Monica.
"Come out, Rebecca. We only want to talk.""
Opal tightened her grip on my wrist.
May you like
Then she whispered something that made my knees nearly give way.
"Your sister and husband aren't the only people who know what happened four years ago. One of them has been paying to keep you in prison since the day you were sentenced.""
