Chapter 6
I couldn't speak.
Dad turned toward me.
“Emily, listen carefully.”
“You paid him to disappear?”
“To protect him.”
“From who?”
“I didn't know.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It didn't make sense then either.”
Dad ran both hands over his face.
“Samuel came to Catherine terrified. He said the people responsible for the dumping had discovered he planned to testify.”
“So you paid him?”
“I gave him enough money to take his family and leave Texas.”
“Marcus too?”
“Marcus was twenty-four. Samuel said his son refused to leave.”
I looked at Marcus on the television.
“Then where did Samuel go?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Pain flashed across Dad's face.
“Yes.”
Richard stepped closer.
“Jonathan, if you paid Samuel to disappear and Catherine died three days later, Marcus would think—”
“I know what he thinks.”
The livestream suddenly changed.
Marcus disappeared.
Madison filled the screen.
A phone had been placed on a desk facing her.
She was crying.
Then a door opened behind her.
Marcus entered holding another folder.
“Time for the truth.”
Dad moved toward the television as though he could reach through it.
“Marcus.”
Of course Marcus couldn't hear him.
Or I thought he couldn't.
Then he looked straight at the camera.
“Oh, I can hear you.”
Dad froze.
There had to be some hidden connection.
Marcus smiled.
“Microphone in Jonathan's study television. Installed months ago.”
Dad's face hardened.
Dana swore quietly.
Marcus continued.
“I've heard everything.”
Police began moving through the house, searching for devices.
Marcus laughed.
“You rich men always think locked gates make you safe.”
Richard shouted toward the screen.
“Let Madison go!”
“No.”
“She had nothing to do with this.”
“She humiliated Emily.”
Richard stopped.
Marcus tilted his head.
“Did you really think that bucket was Madison's idea?”
I felt sick.
Madison looked up.
“What?”
Marcus smiled.
“You're not very creative, Madison.”
Her face twisted.
“You told me she was pretending to be poor!”
Everyone in our kitchen went silent.
Madison's voice rose.
“You told me she was laughing at us!”
Marcus shrugged.
“I suggested she needed to be taught a lesson.”
I stared.
That was why he'd followed me.
He had planned the cafeteria attack.
Not necessarily the exact bucket.
But the humiliation.
He wanted a public conflict between the Carter and Blake families.
“Why?” I whispered.
Marcus somehow heard.
“Because angry men make mistakes.”
He stood behind Madison.
“I needed Richard furious at Jonathan.”
Richard's fists clenched.
“I trusted you.”
“Yes.”
Marcus looked almost disappointed.
“You trusted me to guard your cars, your house, your spoiled daughter. But you never once asked where I came from.”
Madison flinched.
“Don't call me spoiled.”
Marcus actually laughed.
“Still worried about insults?”
She looked down.
For the first time, I didn't see the cafeteria bully.
I saw a scared seventeen-year-old trapped with a dangerous man.
Marcus faced the camera again.
“My father discovered poisoned land. Catherine Carter promised to expose it. Then Jonathan Carter paid my father half a million dollars.”
“To help him escape,” Dad said.
Marcus's smile vanished.
“And three days later Catherine died.”
“I didn't kill her.”
“Maybe not with your own hands.”
Dad stepped closer to the television.
“I loved Catherine more than anything in this world.”
“Money came first.”
“No.”
“Your company would have collapsed.”
“I canceled Preston.”
“After she died.”
Dad's face twisted.
“Because after Catherine died, I didn't care if I lost everything.”
The room went silent.
I had never heard him say anything like that.
Marcus stared through the screen.
For the first time, uncertainty flickered across his face.
Dad continued.
“I spent six years trying to find your father.”
“You're lying.”
“I found evidence Samuel made it to Oklahoma.”
Marcus's expression changed.
“Stop.”
“He withdrew money in Tulsa.”
“Stop.”
“Six weeks after Catherine died.”
Marcus went still.
I looked at Dad.
“You never told police?”
“I did.”
“Then why doesn't Marcus know?”
Marcus screamed at the screen.
“Because it's a lie!”
Dad looked directly at him.
“Ask me which bank.”
Marcus breathed heavily.
“Shut up.”
“First Tulsa Community Bank. August nineteenth. Samuel withdrew twenty thousand dollars using his own identification.”
“No.”
“I have the records.”
Marcus shook his head.
“My father died because of you.”
“I don't know if your father is dead.”
That hit Marcus harder than anything else.
He stepped away from Madison.
His face had lost color.
Dad turned to Dana.
“Get the Samuel file.”
She ran.
Marcus shouted, “Don't!”
Dad didn't stop.
“I kept copies of everything.”
“Stop talking.”
“Your father may have abandoned you.”
Marcus picked up a chair and threw it across the room.
Madison screamed.
“Do not blame me for that.”
For a few seconds the camera showed only chaos.
Then Marcus grabbed Madison by the shoulder.
“You're coming with me.”
She fought.
He slapped her.
Richard roared.
I felt something inside me snap.
“Marcus!”
He looked at the camera.
“Leave her alone.”
He laughed breathlessly.
“Emily wants to negotiate?”
“You wanted me involved. Fine.”
Dad grabbed my arm.
“No.”
I kept looking toward the screen.
“Let Madison walk out of the office.”
“And why would I?”
“Because I'll come to you.”
Dad spun me around.
“Absolutely not.”
Marcus smiled.
“I knew you were interesting.”
“Emily,” Dad said through clenched teeth, “stop.”
I ignored him.
“Let Madison go first.”
Marcus thought about it.
Then shook his head.
“No.”
“Then you don't really want the truth.”
His expression changed.
I continued.
“You want revenge.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
My voice shook, but I kept going.
“If you wanted the truth, you'd listen when Dad says Samuel was alive after Mom died.”
Marcus stared at me.
“You know nothing about your father.”
“Apparently I know more than you know about yours.”
Dad whispered, “Emily.”
I knew I'd pushed too hard.
Marcus's face became terrifyingly calm.
“You want to know about your mother?”
“Yes.”
“I'll show you something Jonathan never saw.”
He reached into the folder.
A flash drive.
Dad went rigid.
“What is that?”
Marcus held it up.
“Catherine's insurance policy.”
My throat tightened.
“She made a video.”
Dad stopped breathing.
Marcus inserted the drive into a laptop.
The livestream went black.
Then my mother's face appeared.
Older than I remembered.
Tired.
Beautiful.
Alive.
I covered my mouth.
“Jonathan,” she said in the recording, “if you're watching this, something has happened to me.”
Dad sat down.
His knees simply gave out.
Mom continued.
“The Preston contamination isn't the real story.”
She looked off-camera nervously.
“The real story is who bought the silence.”
A list of names appeared.
Executives.
Officials.
Lawyers.
Then Mom said something that made Richard Blake stumble backward.
“One of the payments came through Blake Automotive.”
Richard whispered, “No.”
Mom continued.
“I don't know whether Richard Blake knows what his company is being used for.”
Marcus looked toward him through the livestream.
Richard's face crumbled.
“My father.”
Dad turned.
“What?”
Richard stared at the screen.
“My father ran the company then.”
Marcus smiled slowly.
“Now we're getting somewhere.”
Mom's recording continued.
“And the man coordinating the payments is someone Jonathan trusts.”
Dad stared.
I barely breathed.
Then she said the name.
May you like
“Daniel Mitchell.”
Ryan's father.
