Chapter 5: The Letter My Father Never Wanted Me to Find
The brass key fit perfectly.
I removed the metal plate beneath the workbench and discovered a narrow compartment hidden inside the wooden frame.
There was a small envelope.
My name was written across it in my father's handwriting.
I sat on the cold concrete floor and opened it carefully.
Inside was a letter dated eighteen years earlier.
James,
If you're reading this, someone has probably discovered the agreement I made with the original owner of this property.
There is something you need to understand.
The business was never supposed to belong to just one person. I built it with help from people who trusted me. But one person wanted more than his share.
I stopped reading.
My hands had begun to shake.
The letter continued.
His name is Michael Grant's father.
I read the sentence twice.
Michael's father?
I had met his father only a handful of times. He was a quiet accountant who had helped my dad with some early business records.
According to Michael, his father had died when Michael was a teenager.
I continued.
Years ago, Edward Grant approached me with a proposal. He wanted to purchase the land beneath our business and eventually take control of the properties surrounding it.
I refused.
After that, several documents disappeared from my office. I suspected Edward had been working with someone inside the property company.
I recovered the original agreement, but I never trusted the situation again.
My throat tightened.
Then I reached the final paragraph.
If Edward's son ever comes looking for these papers, do not give them to him without speaking to the woman named in the second envelope.
I searched the compartment.
There was another envelope.
Inside was a photograph of a woman standing beside my father.
I recognized her immediately.
Margaret Ellis.
She had been my father's attorney for more than thirty years.
But she had died six years ago.
I turned the photograph over.
There was a telephone number and an address.
The address belonged to a small law office in Savannah, Georgia.
I immediately called Robert.
"Find Margaret Ellis's former law firm. I need to know whether anyone still works there.""
"Understood, sir.""
"And Robert?""
"Yes?""
"Find out everything you can about Edward Grant.""
There was a pause.
"Michael's father?""
"Yes.""
"That's interesting. His name appeared in the original Whitmore Consulting incorporation records.""
I sat up.
"What?""
"Edward Grant was listed as a founding investor. The company was dissolved years ago, but Richard Whitmore reopened it under the same business name.""
I looked at the letter.
The past was connected to the present.
And Michael wasn't simply stealing from my company.
He was continuing something his father had started.
At 10:18 a.m., Robert called back.
"Mr. Carter, I found someone.""
"Who?""
"Margaret Ellis's former paralegal. Her name is Patricia Cole. She still works in Savannah.""
"Can you arrange a meeting?""
"She agreed to speak with you. But she asked one question.""
"What question?""
"Whether you still have your father's original letter.""
I looked at the envelope.
"Tell her yes.""
"She also said something else.""
"What?""
"She said your father was supposed to meet her the morning before he died.""
I stopped breathing for a moment.
"The hospital records say he died at home.""
"That's not what Patricia remembers.""
I immediately booked a flight to Savannah.
Before leaving, I called Emily.
She answered on the second ring.
"Dad, thank God. I've been trying to reach you.""
"What's wrong?""
"Someone came to my apartment.""
My heart dropped.
"Who?""
"Two men. They said they were from your company.""
"Did you let them inside?""
"No. I asked them for identification. One of them got angry and told me I was making a mistake.""
"Where are you now?""
"At a coffee shop near my office.""
"Stay there. I'm sending security to you.""
She hesitated.
"Dad, there's something I need to tell you.""
"What is it?""
"The recording Vanessa mentioned. I listened to part of it.""
I closed my eyes.
"What did you hear?""
"Uncle Michael talking to someone about Grandpa.""
"Who was the other person?""
"I don't know. But I recognized one thing.""
"What?""
"He mentioned the date of Grandpa's death.""
My blood ran cold.
Emily continued.
"Then he said, 'James must never find out what happened in that hospital.''"
I gripped the phone.
"Emily, send me the recording. Don't delete anything.""
"I will.""
A few seconds later, my phone vibrated.
The audio file arrived.
I put on my headphones and pressed play.
Michael's voice came through clearly.
"Edward warned me that James would eventually discover the papers.""
A second man answered.
"Then we need to make sure he never gets them.""
Michael laughed.
"Don't worry. His father already took care of the problem.""
I paused the recording.
My chest felt tight.
I played the final section.
The second man's voice became clearer.
"Are you certain nobody knows about the hospital?""
Michael answered.
"Only one person. And she's been paid to stay quiet.""
The recording ended.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived from Emily.
It contained a screenshot of the original email.
The sender was Michael Grant.
The recipient was Richard Whitmore.
But there was a third recipient.
A name I recognized immediately.
*DR. STEPHEN MORGAN.*
My father's cardiologist.
I searched the name.
He was still alive.
And he was currently working at a private medical clinic in Atlanta.
I called Robert.
"Cancel the flight.""
"Sir?""
"I need you to arrange a meeting with Dr. Morgan.""
"What should I tell him?""
"Tell him I want to discuss my father's medical records.""
There was a long silence.
Then Robert said something unexpected.
"Mr. Carter, I just received an update from the police.""
"What update?""
"They've identified the man who photographed Emily.""
"Who is he?""
"He's a former security contractor employed by Whitmore Consulting.""
"Have they arrested him?""
"Not yet.""
"Why?""
Robert lowered his voice.
"Because he just turned himself in.""
I frowned.
"Why would he do that?""
"Because he claims he has evidence that Richard Whitmore ordered him to follow your daughter.""
"And what does he want?""
Robert hesitated.
"Immunity.""
I looked at my father's letter.
The truth was finally beginning to surface.
But before I could process it, Robert added:
"Sir, there's something else. The contractor says Richard didn't order him to photograph Emily.""
"Then who did?""
May you like
Robert's answer made my blood run cold.
"Michael Grant.""
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