Chapter 13: The Car That Held My Mother's Last Secret
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The car that had killed my mother had been sitting in a property owned by Richard Mitchell.
And three days ago, Gregory Shaw had purchased it.
“Michael,” I said, “we need to find that vehicle.””
He was already dialing his phone.
“I'm contacting the investigators. Nobody touches that car until they secure it.””
Patricia sank into a chair.
Vanessa stared at her mother.
“You knew the car still existed?””
Patricia nodded weakly.
“Richard kept it after the insurance investigation. He said he couldn't bear to have it destroyed.””
Dad let out a bitter laugh.
“Your husband kept my wife's wrecked car for twenty-seven years?””
Patricia began crying.
“He said it was a reminder.””
“A reminder of what?”” I demanded.
She didn't answer.
Michael ended his call.
“Investigators are arranging a search warrant. The vehicle is registered at a storage facility outside Fort Lauderdale.””
Dad immediately stood.
“I'm going.””
Michael shook his head.
“Robert, you shouldn't interfere with the investigation.””
“I've waited twenty-seven years to understand what happened to my wife.””
“I understand. But we need to do this properly.””
Dad looked at me.
I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Let's go together.””
Vanessa approached us.
“Daniel, I want to come.””
I stared at her.
“Why?””
“Because I need to know what my father did.””
I didn't answer.
She continued.
“I know you don't trust me. I know I don't deserve it. But I can't spend another day pretending I don't know what's happening.””
Dad picked up the photograph of my mother.
“Then come. But understand something. Whatever we discover, you cannot undo what has happened.””
Vanessa nodded.
We drove toward Fort Lauderdale shortly before sunrise.
The storage facility was surrounded by a chain-link fence. A security guard met the investigators at the entrance.
Behind the facility stood a row of metal garages.
The officers opened the seventh unit.
Inside was my mother's blue sedan.
The windshield was cracked. The driver's side door was crushed inward. Rust covered the edges of the hood.
Dad stopped breathing.
He stepped closer.
“Eleanor,” he whispered.
I had never seen him look so broken.
For years, he had kept my mother's photographs in a drawer. He rarely spoke about her death. He had never returned to the highway where the accident happened.
Now he stood inches away from the vehicle that had taken her from us.
An investigator approached.
“Mr. Carter, we'll need to document everything before touching the vehicle.””
Dad nodded.
His hands trembled.
The investigator examined the driver's side.
“There's something unusual here.””
He pointed toward the steering column.
A section of the dashboard appeared to have been removed and replaced.
Michael leaned closer.
“Could someone have accessed the vehicle's wiring?””
“Possibly. We'll need a forensic examination.””
Another investigator opened the trunk.
Inside were several old blankets, a damaged handbag, and a plastic storage container.
Dad recognized the handbag immediately.
“That's Eleanor's.””
He stepped forward.
The investigator carefully opened it.
Inside were a pair of reading glasses, a lipstick, a small address book, and an envelope sealed with yellow tape.
Dad stared.
“She was carrying that the night she died.””
Michael put on gloves.
“There's a name on it.””
I moved closer.
The envelope was addressed to:
*EDWARD HAYES.*
But beneath the name was another handwritten line.
If anything happens to me, give this to Daniel.
My heart began pounding.
The investigator photographed the envelope before opening it.
Inside was a small memory card and a handwritten note.
Michael read the note aloud.
Edward, Richard knows about the original agreement. He has been following me. I believe he has arranged for someone to access the property records. I have copied everything.
If I don't make it home tonight, please protect Daniel.
He deserves a life without fear.
Dad covered his mouth.
I felt tears running down my face.
The investigator carefully removed the memory card.
“We'll need to examine this in a secure environment.””
Vanessa stood several feet behind us.
She looked at the car, then at the note.
“Daniel,” she whispered.
I turned.
She was holding something.
A small photograph had fallen from the handbag.
It showed my mother standing outside a restaurant with a man in a dark jacket.
Vanessa stared at it.
“I know him.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who?””
She pointed at the man.
“Gregory's father.””
Michael took the photograph.
“Are you certain?””
“Yes. My father introduced him to me when I was a teenager.””
The investigator looked at the photograph.
“Do you know his name?””
Vanessa nodded.
“Frank Shaw.””
Michael exchanged a glance with Dad.
“Frank Shaw was the owner of the accounting firm involved in Atlantic Coastal Holdings.””
Dad looked at the photograph again.
“Then Gregory didn't enter this story by accident.””
Vanessa began crying.
“My father used me. He used my marriage. He used everything.””
I looked at her.
“You helped him investigate my father.””
“I know.””
“You signed documents.””
“I know.””
“You threw away the only gift my mother wanted me to receive.””
She lowered her head.
“I know.””
I turned away.
There was nothing left to say.
The investigators placed the memory card inside an evidence container.
One of them returned from the office carrying a laptop.
“Mr. Carter, we've managed to recover a partial audio file.””
Dad looked up.
“Can we hear it?””
The investigator hesitated.
“We've only recovered part of the recording. But it may be relevant.””
He connected the device.
Static crackled through the speakers.
Then my mother's voice emerged.
“Edward, I have the original agreement. Richard doesn't know where I've hidden it.””
A man's voice responded.
“Eleanor, you need to get out of there.””
“I can't. Daniel is waiting for me.””
Another voice interrupted.
It was unmistakably Richard Mitchell.
“Give me the documents, Eleanor.””
My mother's voice became frightened.
“You said you wanted to talk.””
“I changed my mind.””
Then came the sound of a car door slamming.
A few seconds later, Richard spoke again.
“You should have listened when I gave you the chance.””
The recording stopped.
Dad staggered backward.
I caught his arm.
“Dad!””
He looked at me, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“That wasn't an accident,” he whispered.
Michael turned toward the investigator.
“Can you recover the rest?””
The investigator nodded.
“We'll try.””
Then his phone rang.
He listened briefly.
His expression changed.
“What is it?”” Michael asked.
The investigator lowered his voice.
“Gregory Shaw has been located.””
“Where?””
“He's at Miami International Airport.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Is he leaving?””
The investigator nodded.
“He has a one-way ticket.””
Then he added something that made Michael immediately grab his briefcase.
“He's not traveling alone.””
“Who is with him?”” I asked.
May you like
The investigator looked at Vanessa.
“Richard Mitchell.””
