Chapter 10: The Night My Father Came Home Covered in Blood
My father stared at Daniel's note for nearly a minute before he spoke.
"Lucas, I need you to understand something. Whatever you hear next, I never stopped loving your mother.""
I swallowed hard.
"Then tell me what happened.""
Arthur Bell quietly closed his briefcase. Jonathan Pierce instructed the security officers to give us privacy, although he remained near the corridor entrance.
Vanessa stood several feet away, her wedding dress trailing across the polished floor. She looked exhausted, frightened, and strangely small.
Dad pulled out a chair.
"Your mother died on a Thursday. I came home from work at approximately nine that evening. I had been at a meeting with Charles Whitmore and two other investors.""
"Why didn't you come home with her?""
"Because Eleanor left the meeting early. She said she needed to collect something from the archive.""
My fingers tightened around the note.
"What was she collecting?""
"I didn't know at the time. I assumed she was retrieving financial records.""
He rubbed his palms together.
"When I arrived home, I found a message on the answering machine. Eleanor said she had discovered something important and needed me to meet her at the property. She sounded frightened.""
"What did you do?""
"I drove there immediately.""
He paused, staring at the floor.
"But when I arrived, she wasn't there. The archive door was open, several cabinets had been disturbed, and there was blood on the floor near the entrance.""
I felt my stomach turn.
"Was it Mom's blood?""
"I don't know. I found a torn piece of her scarf beside the desk. There was blood on it, too.""
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
"I did. But by the time they arrived, the blood had been cleaned from the floor. Someone had called in a maintenance request, claiming a pipe had burst. The security recordings were missing, and the archive had been locked again.""
I stared at him.
"Someone cleaned up a crime scene?""
"That's what I believed.""
"And then you went home?""
"No. I drove along the road Eleanor usually took. I found her car below the embankment.""
His voice faltered.
"I climbed down to reach her. The car was burning. I tried to open the driver's door, but the heat was too intense. I burned my hands pulling at the frame.""
He held them out.
I had seen the faint scars across his knuckles my entire life. When I was little, he had told me they came from a factory accident.
I had believed him.
"You were covered in blood because you tried to save her.""
He nodded.
"Some of it was hers. Some of it came from my hands.""
"Then why would Daniel use that against you?""
"Because I never told anyone about the blood in the archive. I thought revealing it would expose you to whoever had been responsible.""
I struggled to breathe.
"Did you ever find out who cleaned the room?""
"No.""
Arthur leaned forward.
"Richard, did you recognize anything missing from the archive that night?""
Dad looked toward him.
"The silver key was gone. So was the original ownership register.""
"And the metal box?""
"Missing, too.""
Arthur nodded slowly.
"That explains why Eleanor wrote the letter. She must have realized the archive had been compromised before she died.""
I looked down at the key in my pocket.
"Then why did you bring it to my wedding?""
"Because I recovered it six months after Eleanor died. Someone mailed it to me anonymously, along with a note telling me to stop investigating.""
My blood ran cold.
"What did the note say?""
Dad's eyes met mine.
The next accident won't be hers.
I couldn't speak.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
"Why would someone threaten a child?""
"Because they believed I would keep searching," Dad answered.
"And they were right.""
Jonathan returned to the table, holding his phone.
"The police have secured Daniel's vehicle. They're treating the blood as potential evidence, but we won't know whose it is until the laboratory examines it.""
"Is Daniel alive?"" I asked.
"We don't know.""
I turned toward Arthur.
"Could he have been the one who sent me those messages?""
"Possibly. But we shouldn't assume that until the investigators establish what happened.""
My phone vibrated again.
An unknown number.
This time, the message contained an address and a time.
*11:30 p.m. Tonight. The old Anderson factory. Come alone if you want to see Daniel alive.*
Below it was a photograph of Daniel sitting in a chair, his hands bound behind him.
His face was bruised.
A strip of tape covered his mouth.
I stood so quickly that my chair fell backward.
"Lucas?"" Dad asked.
I showed him the photograph.
He grabbed my wrist.
"You're not going anywhere alone.""
"They have Daniel.""
"And they may be trying to lure you into the same trap that killed your mother.""
"What if he knows who did it?""
Dad's expression hardened.
"Then we find him safely. We don't give the people responsible another chance to hurt you.""
I looked at the photograph again.
Daniel's eyes were fixed on the camera. There was terror in them, but also something else.
He was trying to communicate.
I enlarged the image.
Behind his chair stood a rusted machine with a faded blue emblem.
I recognized it immediately.
The old Anderson factory had been closed for fifteen years. Dad had once taken me there when I was a child, showing me the machines he'd operated before building his investment business.
One wall had been painted blue.
And beneath the peeling paint was the same oak-tree symbol engraved on my mother's key.
Arthur studied the image.
"That factory contains a second archive.""
Dad turned toward him.
"What?""
"Eleanor established a backup repository there after she discovered the original records were being compromised. I thought it had been emptied years ago.""
"Who knew about it?""
Arthur looked at the photograph again.
"Richard, Eleanor, and one other person.""
My father went pale.
"Who?""
Arthur's answer was almost inaudible.
"Her brother.""
I stared at him.
"My mother didn't have a brother.""
Arthur slowly closed the folder.
"That's what everyone was told.""
Then the lights in the corridor flickered.
A security officer hurried toward us.
"Mr. Anderson, we've lost the external cameras at the factory. Someone has cut the power.""
I looked at the photograph of Daniel.
The clock on my phone read 10:47 p.m.
We had forty-three minutes.
And suddenly, I understood why someone had spent twenty-five years trying to keep my mother's secrets buried.
May you like
Because the man who might finally explain her death wasn't a stranger.
He was someone my family had erased from its own history.
