Chapter 9: The Safe Behind the Wall
The ambulance took Robert to the hospital.
Lily and I followed in an agent's vehicle.
For two hours, we sat beneath a television playing the evening news.
A reporter stood outside the bank.
"Authorities are investigating a shooting involving a former business partner of William Walker. Detective Mark Collins has been detained, while Vanessa Walker remains at large.""
My hands were shaking.
Lily placed a paper cup of water in front of me.
"Drink something.""
"I can't.""
"Ethan, please.""
I took a sip.
Then I looked at her.
"Do you think Robert is going to survive?""
She didn't answer.
Instead, she reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
At 9:40 p.m., a doctor entered the waiting room.
"Family of Robert Bennett?""
I stood.
"How is he?""
The doctor looked tired.
"He lost a significant amount of blood, but we've stabilized him. The next twenty-four hours will be important.""
I exhaled.
"Can we see him?""
"One at a time.""
I entered his room.
Robert lay beneath a white blanket, his face pale.
A bandage covered his side.
When he saw me, he tried to sit up.
"Don't," I said.
He gave a weak smile.
"Still giving orders?""
"Someone has to.""
He laughed, then winced.
I pulled a chair beside his bed.
"Tell me about the safe.""
Robert looked toward the door.
"Did the agents find the notebook?""
"Yes.""
"Good.""
"Now tell me what my father hid.""
He closed his eyes.
"Your father's office has a false wall behind the old bookcase. There's a small safe inside.""
I frowned.
"Why didn't Vanessa find it?""
"Because William installed it after your mother died. He told me only once where it was.""
I held up the brass key.
"Does this open it?""
Robert nodded.
"But there's something inside you need to understand.""
"What?""
"Your father didn't just keep financial records. He kept evidence about your mother's death.""
I leaned forward.
"What evidence?""
Robert looked at me.
"Your mother was planning to meet a federal investigator the night of the accident.""
My stomach tightened.
"Who?""
"An accountant named Samuel Price. He had been helping her trace the missing money.""
"Was he with her when she died?""
"No. But he was the last person to speak to her.""
Robert swallowed.
"Your father found a letter from him years later. It said your mother had discovered that the person controlling the fraudulent accounts was not Vanessa.""
I stared.
"Then who?""
Robert shook his head.
"William never found out. The letter only contained one clue.""
"What clue?""
Robert looked directly into my eyes.
"The money was being moved through a company owned by someone in your family.""
I stood.
"Vanessa?""
"Maybe.""
He paused.
"Or someone else.""
The following morning, Agent Morgan arranged for us to enter my father's old office under supervision.
The building had been closed since his death.
Dust covered the reception desk.
The wooden floor creaked beneath our shoes.
I hadn't been inside since the day before my arrest.
The memories came rushing back.
My father sitting behind his desk.
The smell of fresh coffee.
The old clock he had inherited from his grandfather.
And the bookcase filled with construction manuals.
Agent Morgan examined the room.
"Show me where the safe is.""
I walked toward the bookcase.
There were six shelves.
I remembered my father always keeping a small wooden model of a house on the third shelf.
It was still there.
I moved it.
Behind it was a tiny metal button.
I pressed it.
A section of the wall clicked.
The bookcase shifted slightly.
Lily gasped.
"That's incredible.""
I pulled the bookcase forward.
Behind it was a steel safe.
The brass key fit the lock.
Inside were several folders, a USB drive, a small envelope, and a photograph.
I picked up the photograph first.
It showed my mother standing beside a man outside a courthouse.
The man was wearing a brown suit.
I recognized him.
Samuel Price.
The accountant Robert had mentioned.
On the back, my father had written:
Samuel disappeared three days after Margaret's funeral.
Agent Morgan took the photograph.
"That's interesting.""
I opened the first folder.
It contained copies of company accounts, transfer records, and handwritten notes.
The second folder contained documents related to my mother's car accident.
I found a photograph of the vehicle.
Then another.
And another.
One showed the rear bumper.
There was a deep indentation.
A piece of another vehicle's paint was embedded in the metal.
Agent Morgan leaned closer.
"That's potentially important.""
I turned the page.
There was a laboratory report from an independent vehicle examiner.
The final paragraph stated that the damage was consistent with a collision from behind.
I felt sick.
"Someone hit her car.""
Agent Morgan nodded.
"It certainly warrants further investigation.""
Lily picked up the envelope.
It had both our names written on it.
She opened it carefully.
Inside was a letter from our father.
My children,
If you've found this, then I failed to protect your mother, and I may have failed to protect myself.
I need you to understand that I made mistakes. I trusted people I shouldn't have trusted. I signed documents without knowing what they would become.
But I never stopped loving either of you.
I paused.
My eyes blurred.
Lily continued reading.
The person who caused your mother's death is not the only person responsible. Someone helped arrange the accident. Someone made sure the investigation disappeared.
Then came the final paragraph.
I have kept the original recording of the night Margaret died. It contains the voice of the person who ordered it.
I looked at the USB drive.
"Is this it?""
Agent Morgan examined it.
"Possibly. We'll need to verify its contents.""
I placed it inside the evidence bag she handed me.
Then I noticed something beneath the folder.
A small legal document.
It was a transfer agreement for Walker Construction.
The buyer's name was covered by a black strip of ink.
But the signature at the bottom was visible.
*Ethan Walker.*
I stared.
"What is this?""
Agent Morgan took the document.
Her expression changed.
"This appears to transfer controlling ownership of the company to you.""
"When?""
She checked the date.
"Six days before your father's death.""
I shook my head.
"I never signed this.""
She examined the signature.
"Then we may have another forged document.""
Lily looked at me.
"Why would someone make it look like you owned the company?""
Before I could answer, Agent Morgan's phone rang.
She listened for several seconds.
Then she turned toward us.
"We have a problem.""
"What?""
"Vanessa's attorney just filed an emergency petition claiming that Ethan used his father's illness to fraudulently obtain control of the company.""
I stared.
"That's ridiculous.""
"There's more.""
She lowered her phone.
"According to the filing, your father signed a sworn statement accusing you of stealing company funds again.""
My stomach dropped.
"That's impossible. He's dead.""
Agent Morgan nodded.
"That's exactly why this is serious.""
She showed me the document on her screen.
At the bottom was my father's signature.
And beside it was the date.
It had been signed two days before his death.
I recognized the handwriting.
It looked real.
Then Lily noticed something.
"Wait.""
She pointed to the signature.
"That's not Dad's signature.""
Agent Morgan looked at her.
"How can you be certain?""
Lily pulled the photograph from the desk.
It showed my father holding a pen, signing a birthday card.
She placed it beside the document.
"Look at the W. Dad always crossed the middle line twice. This signature doesn't.""
I stared at the papers.
Someone had forged my father's statement.
And they were using it to destroy me again.
My phone suddenly buzzed.
An unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Vanessa sitting in my father's old office.
She was holding a document.
Behind her stood a man I hadn't seen in years.
My former defense attorney.
The man who had told me there was no chance of winning my case.
A message appeared beneath the photograph.
*You should have stayed away from your father's office.*
May you like
Then another message arrived.
*Ask your old lawyer why he never presented the evidence that could have kept you out of prison.*
