Chapter 9
I chased Ryan down the courthouse stairs.
Officers shouted behind me.
He crossed the street against traffic, forcing cars to brake.
I followed until a delivery truck nearly struck me.
Ryan disappeared into an alley.
Ruiz caught up and pulled me back.
“You could have been killed.”
“He knows about Grace.”
“And now he knows exactly how to control you.”
Police sealed the surrounding blocks.
They found Ryan’s jacket in a trash bin, but he had escaped again.
Inside one pocket was a key to a storage unit.
The unit contained boxes of documents from my house.
There were photographs of Grace, copies of Sophie’s medical records, and recordings of conversations between Amanda and Cynthia.
One recording had been made six years earlier.
Grace was still alive then.
Cynthia’s voice came first.
“The wife noticed the copies.”
Amanda sounded younger.
“She reported me.”
“Then fix it.”
“How?”
“You know how.”
The recording ended.
I listened to it four times.
Ruiz finally closed the laptop.
“It is suspicious, but it is not a confession.”
“What does ‘fix it’ mean?”
“We need context.”
A second file provided it.
Ryan’s voice spoke with Amanda two months before our wedding.
“You promised nobody would get hurt this time.”
Amanda replied, “Grace wasn’t supposed to die.”
I stopped breathing.
Ryan said, “You cut a brake line. What did you think would happen?”
Amanda began crying.
“My mother said the car would fail in the driveway.”
“And you believed her?”
“She said it would scare Grace into dropping the complaint.”
Ruiz paused the recording.
My body felt numb.
Grace had been murdered because she discovered their fraud.
Amanda had entered my life afterward to finish what she started.
I walked outside before I was sick.
Grace’s last morning returned to me.
She kissed Sophie’s forehead.
She reminded me to buy milk.
She said she loved me.
Then she drove away.
For years, I had tortured myself over our final conversation because I had been distracted by work.
Now I knew someone had stolen every future conversation from us.
I punched the concrete wall.
Pain shot through my hand.
Ruiz stood nearby.
“Daniel.”
“I invited her murderer into our home.”
“You did not know.”
“Ryan knew.”
“We don’t know when he learned.”
“He knew before the wedding.”
“Yes.”
I faced her.
“My brother watched Amanda raise her hand to my daughter and kept helping her.”
Ruiz did not defend him.
Police issued warrants for Amanda and Cynthia in connection with Grace’s death.
Amanda was already in custody.
Cynthia disappeared before officers reached her home.
Her abandoned car was found at the airport.
No record showed her boarding a flight.
Leah discovered Northstar had transferred the loan money through several accounts.
The final account belonged to Ryan.
“He has nearly eight hundred thousand dollars,” she said. “He can run for years.”
“Unless Amanda knows where he is.”
Amanda offered to cooperate.
Her attorney requested immunity from the murder charge.
The prosecutor refused.
She changed her request to a reduced sentence.
I was asked whether I supported the deal.
“No.”
The prosecutor folded her hands.
“Her testimony may be the strongest evidence against Cynthia.”
“She cut Grace’s brake line.”
“She claims Cynthia forced her.”
“She was an adult.”
“I am not excusing her.”
“Then do not ask me to.”
The prosecutor gave me time.
I went home and sat in Grace’s old reading chair.
Sophie climbed onto my lap.
My injured hand was wrapped.
She touched the bandage.
“Did Uncle Ryan do that?”
“I got angry and hit a wall.”
“Did it help?”
“No.”
“Then don’t do it again.”
I smiled sadly.
“That is good advice.”
She leaned against me.
“Is Amanda going away?”
“For a long time, I hope.”
“Will she tell where Uncle Ryan is?”
“Maybe.”
Sophie became quiet.
“He gave me Mommy’s necklace.”
I looked at her.
“At the lake house?”
She nodded.
“He said he was sorry.”
“Where is it?”
“The lady took it.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“He said Grandma lied to him his whole life.”
My mother heard from the doorway.
Her face collapsed.
“I did,” she whispered.
Sophie looked between us.
Margaret sat across from me.
“I told Ryan you took the lake house because I could not admit he gambled it away. He was already drowning in shame. I thought another failure would destroy him.”
“So you made me the villain.”
“I believed I could correct it later.”
“You had eight years.”
“I was afraid.”
“Your fear grew into his hatred.”
Tears rolled down her face.
“I know.”
I wanted to forgive her.
I could not.
Not yet.
My phone rang.
It was Ryan.
“Put Sophie on,” he said.
“No.”
“I need to know she’s safe.”
“You helped kidnap her.”
“I got her out before Cynthia could move her.”
“You left her tied to a bed.”
“I told the police where she was.”
“No, Sophie did.”
He exhaled sharply.
“I have proof Cynthia ordered Grace’s death.”
“Give it to Ruiz.”
“I will trade it.”
“For what?”
“Half the house.”
I almost laughed.
“You are still doing this for money?”
“It was supposed to be mine.”
“It belonged to Grace.”
Silence followed.
Then I said the words my mother never had.
“You lost the lake house because of your gambling debt. I sold it to keep you out of prison.”
Ryan stopped breathing.
Behind me, my mother began sobbing.
“That’s a lie,” he whispered.
“No, Ryan. The lie is why you destroyed our family.”
A gun clicked on his end of the call.
May you like
Then Cynthia’s voice said, “He knows too much.”
The line went dead.
