Chapter 9: The Woman Who Had My House Keys
I reached my house in twenty-three minutes.
Robert was waiting outside with two security officers.
The front gate stood open.
My stomach tightened.
"Where is she?""
Robert pointed toward the garage.
"Inside. We saw her enter approximately fifteen minutes ago.""
"Did you contact the police?""
"Yes, sir. But I requested an independent unit after what Vanessa told you.""
I looked at the house.
The lights were on in my study.
That was where I kept my father's original letters.
"Nobody goes inside alone.""
Robert nodded.
We entered through the side door.
The house was silent except for the faint sound of drawers opening upstairs.
Then I heard Susan's voice.
"Where did he put it?""
Another voice answered.
"I don't know. Check the desk.""
I stopped.
There were two people inside.
Robert signaled to the officers.
We moved toward the study.
Susan stood beside my father's old leather briefcase. A young man in a black jacket was searching the bookshelves.
She held a stack of documents.
I recognized them immediately.
They were copies of my father's estate papers.
"Susan.""
She spun around.
The documents slipped from her hands.
"Mr. Carter!""
The young man reached for something inside his jacket.
Robert shouted.
"Hands where I can see them!""
The man froze.
One officer moved forward and restrained him.
Susan backed away from the desk.
"James, I can explain.""
I looked at the papers on the floor.
"Explain what? Why you're searching my house?""
She began crying.
"I was protecting the company.""
"By deleting confidential records?""
"Michael said you were going to lose everything!""
I stared at her.
"Michael told you that?""
She nodded.
"He said your father's documents were legally invalid. He said if you tried to use them, the company would collapse.""
"And you believed him?""
Susan's voice trembled.
"He promised me ten million dollars.""
I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Eleven years, Susan. Eleven years I trusted you.""
She looked at me.
"You never saw me as anything more than an employee.""
I stared at her.
"That's what you think?""
She wiped her cheeks.
"Michael said you were planning to sell the company and leave everyone behind. He said I deserved something for protecting your interests all those years.""
"Protecting my interests?""
I pointed toward the documents.
"You're standing in my home, stealing from me.""
Susan lowered her head.
Then she said something that made me pause.
"I didn't steal the original agreement.""
I looked at her.
"What?""
"Michael already had it. He gave me copies and told me to destroy everything else.""
"When?""
"Two nights ago.""
I walked toward the desk.
"Where is the original now?""
Susan hesitated.
"With Richard.""
I frowned.
"Richard has it?""
She nodded.
"Michael gave him the document because he needed Richard to transfer ownership of the property through Whitmore Consulting.""
That made no sense.
If Michael possessed the original agreement, why would he need Richard?
"Why?""
Susan glanced toward Robert.
Then she whispered, "Because the property agreement isn't enough.""
I leaned closer.
"What else is there?""
She looked directly at me.
"Your father created a trust.""
I felt my chest tighten.
"What trust?""
"A private family trust. The original agreement gives you and Michael rights to the properties, but the trust controls the voting rights.""
I stared at her.
"Who controls the trust?""
Susan looked down.
"Your daughter.""
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
"Emily?""
Susan nodded.
"Your father established it before he died. He transferred control to her when she turned twenty-one.""
I shook my head.
"That's impossible. Emily never received anything.""
"Michael said the trust documents were hidden in the original estate file. He needed the original agreement to challenge the trust.""
I slowly understood.
The photograph of Emily.
The threats.
The messages.
The men outside her apartment.
They weren't simply trying to intimidate me.
They were trying to get control of something my father had left to her.
I turned toward Susan.
"Did Michael know Emily was the beneficiary?""
"Yes.""
"How long?""
"Since your father died.""
I looked away.
My father had trusted a twenty-eight-year-old woman he barely knew with the future of his company.
He had done it because he knew what Michael might become.
And I had spent twenty years giving Michael everything anyway.
Robert approached.
"Sir, the officers have secured the suspect. They're asking whether you want to press charges.""
"Yes.""
Susan began crying harder.
"James, please. I have a family.""
"So do I.""
She looked up.
"Michael said he would protect me.""
I stared at her.
"Michael doesn't protect anyone. He uses people until they're no longer useful.""
Then my phone rang.
Emily.
I answered immediately.
"Sweetheart?""
"Dad, I need you to listen carefully.""
Her voice was shaking.
"Where are you?""
"At the office. Something happened.""
"What happened?""
"Two men came looking for me again. But this time they had documents with my name on them.""
I closed my eyes.
"Did you give them anything?""
"No. But one of them showed me a document signed by Grandpa.""
My heart began racing.
"What document?""
"He said I had inherited something. He said I needed to sign a transfer form before midnight.""
"Don't sign anything.""
"I didn't.""
"Good. Where are you now?""
She hesitated.
"Dad, there's something else.""
"What?""
"The man who came here said he was working for Michael.""
"Did you recognize him?""
"Yes.""
"Who was he?""
Emily lowered her voice.
"Richard Whitmore.""
I looked at Robert.
Richard was supposed to be under investigation.
He was supposed to be cooperating with the police.
"Emily, get somewhere safe. Don't leave the office until security arrives.""
"Dad, I already called them.""
"Good.""
Then I heard a noise through the phone.
A door slamming.
Emily gasped.
"Emily?""
"Dad?""
"What happened?""
Her breathing became rapid.
"Someone just entered the building.""
I stood up.
"Go into your office and lock the door.""
"I am!""
Then a man's voice came through the phone.
"Miss Carter, we need to talk about your grandfather's inheritance.""
Emily screamed.
The call disconnected.
I stared at my phone.
"Robert! Get the car!""
He was already moving.
As we rushed toward the entrance, another message appeared on my screen.
It came from an unknown number.
There was a photograph of Emily sitting in her office.
Behind her stood Richard.
Underneath the picture were seven words:
*SHE HAS SOMETHING THAT BELONGS TO US.*
I called the police.
Then I called Emily again.
No answer.
Robert accelerated through the gate.
I stared at the photograph until my eyes burned.
And then I noticed something in the background.
On Emily's desk sat a small wooden box.
I recognized it.
It was the same box my father had kept beside his hospital bed during his final days.
The box I had been told was empty.
The box that had disappeared after his funeral.
Suddenly, I understood why Michael had spent twenty years searching for the original papers.
The real secret wasn't inside the property agreement.
May you like
It was inside that box.
And Richard had just found it.
