Chapter 6: The Daughter Accused of Murder
For a moment, I thought I'd misheard.
"What?""
The bank employee stepped backward.
"Two detectives are waiting upstairs.""
I looked at Damien.
"Tell them it's a mistake.""
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned toward his security chief.
"Get the car ready.""
The bank employee shook her head.
"Nobody is leaving until the detectives speak with them.""
Corbin adjusted his collar.
"Well, this is awkward.""
I turned on him.
"Did you do this?""
He shrugged.
"Why would I?""
"Because you've spent two years threatening me!""
He smiled.
"Threatening someone isn't murder.""
Damien moved toward him.
"One more word.""
Corbin raised his hands.
"Fine. I'll let the police decide.""
I looked at the letter in my hands.
My mother's handwriting blurred through my tears.
"She was my mother. I was a child when she died. How could they accuse me?""
Damien stepped closer.
"Someone wants you frightened enough to make a mistake.""
"Who?""
He looked toward Corbin.
"Someone who knows what's inside that box.""
The detectives entered the vault.
One was a woman in her forties with short brown hair. The other was a tall man carrying a folder.
"Ms. Lennox?""
"Yes.""
"I'm Detective Harper. This is Detective Mills. We need you to answer a few questions.""
"About my mother?""
Harper nodded.
"Her death is being reinvestigated.""
I looked at Damien.
He didn't move.
Detective Mills opened his folder.
"Your mother was found dead beside a vehicle on October 14, six years ago. The original investigation concluded that she lost control of the car.""
"And now?""
"New evidence suggests the vehicle may have been deliberately tampered with.""
My stomach tightened.
"What evidence?""
He showed me a photograph.
It was an image of a silver wrench lying beside a damaged tire.
"We found fingerprints on the tool.""
"Whose?""
The detective looked down at his notes.
"Yours.""
My mouth fell open.
"That's impossible.""
Harper watched me carefully.
"Do you recognize the tool?""
"No.""
"Have you ever handled it?""
"Never.""
Corbin suddenly spoke.
"She was very close to Elena.""
I turned toward him.
"Shut up.""
Harper raised an eyebrow.
"Mr. Ashworth, do you have information relevant to this investigation?""
Corbin nodded.
"I believe my sister may have inherited some of my mother's belongings.""
"Such as?""
"A silver toolbox.""
I stared at him.
"What toolbox?""
He looked innocent.
"The one she kept in her garage.""
My mother's garage had been demolished years ago.
I looked at the detectives.
"I haven't seen any toolbox.""
Corbin shrugged.
"Perhaps she forgot.""
Damien stepped forward.
"He's lying.""
Detective Harper closed her folder.
"Mr. Ashworth, we need everyone to cooperate.""
Damien's voice was cold.
"Then investigate the evidence instead of accepting a story from a man who has been threatening this woman.""
Harper glanced at Corbin.
"Are you saying Mr. Ashworth has threatened you, Ms. Lennox?""
I nodded.
"For two years.""
Corbin laughed.
"She's confused.""
I wanted to hit him.
Instead, I remembered something my mother used to say.
When someone wants you angry, don't give them your hands. Give them your eyes.
So I looked at Corbin.
Really looked.
He wasn't worried.
He wasn't surprised.
He was enjoying this.
And then I noticed something.
A tiny red mark on his right cuff.
The same shade of red as the dried blood on the blue uniform fabric Shadow had found.
I stepped closer.
"Where did you get that stain?""
Corbin glanced down.
"What?""
"Your sleeve.""
He quickly pulled his jacket over it.
Detective Harper noticed.
"Mr. Ashworth, may I see your cuff?""
Corbin smiled.
"Of course.""
But his hand was already moving toward his pocket.
Damien reacted instantly.
"Don't!""
Two guards grabbed Corbin before he could pull anything out.
A small black device dropped onto the floor.
Detective Mills picked it up.
"What is this?""
Corbin's face changed.
Nothing remained of his earlier confidence.
"It's a phone.""
The detective examined it.
"No. It's a recording transmitter.""
I stared at him.
"Who were you recording?""
Corbin looked at me.
Then at Damien.
He said nothing.
Detective Harper picked up the device.
"Who is on the other end?""
The phone suddenly vibrated.
A message appeared on the screen.
*TRANSFER COMPLETE.*
Below it was a name.
*VINCENT ASHWORTH.*
Damien's face went rigid.
"Father.""
Corbin pulled free from the guards.
"You think you understand what happened? You think that letter tells you everything?""
He pointed at Damien.
"He knows exactly why Elena died.""
I looked at Damien.
"Is that true?""
He didn't answer.
Instead, he knelt beside Shadow.
The dog had become restless again. His breathing was uneven, and his legs trembled.
"What's wrong with him?"" I asked.
Damien touched the dog's neck.
"He hasn't been well for weeks.""
I knelt beside them.
Shadow looked at me.
Then he turned his head toward the black device on the floor.
He began whining.
I picked it up.
There was a tiny symbol engraved on its back.
A black raven surrounded by a silver circle.
The same emblem I'd seen on the uniform.
And suddenly, the pieces began to connect.
"Damien," I whispered.
He looked at me.
"Shadow isn't afraid of Corbin.""
"What?""
I held up the device.
"He's afraid of whoever wore this uniform.""
Damien stared at the emblem.
Then his expression changed.
"That's impossible.""
"Why?""
He looked at Shadow.
"Because that uniform belonged to my mother.""
I froze.
"Your mother?""
Damien nodded slowly.
"She was wearing it the night she died.""
Before I could ask another question, Detective Harper's phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
Then her eyes widened.
"Mr. Ashworth, we need to leave. Now.""
Damien stood.
"What happened?""
Harper looked at him.
"Vincent Ashworth has just been found dead.""
My heart stopped.
She swallowed.
"And according to the security footage, the last person who entered his study was you.""
Damien said nothing.
Then Detective Harper turned toward me.
"Ms. Lennox, there's something else.""
"What?""
She held up her phone.
A photograph showed a woman standing outside Vincent's mansion.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
A small scar beneath her left eyebrow.
My mother's face.
Alive.
The timestamp was from that morning.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
Then a message appeared beneath the photograph.
*SHE'S NOT DEAD. AND SHE'S COMING FOR HER CHILDREN.*
