Chapter 6: Forty-Three Seconds
Sergeant Cole put the prepaid phone into an evidence bag.
I couldn't take my eyes off it.
Forty-three seconds.
Marcus had known.
Not eventually.
Not after Vanessa confessed.
He had known while my five-year-old daughter was trapped downstairs.
I sat beside Emma on Rachel's couch.
“Sweetheart, I need to ask you something.””
She curled against my side.
“Am I in trouble?””
The question broke something inside me.
“No. Never for telling me the truth.””
“Okay.””
“When you called Marcus yesterday, what did you say?””
Emma looked toward the floor.
“I told him I was in the bad room.””
“And what did he say?””
“He asked if Vanessa was upstairs.””
I glanced at Cole.
He was writing everything down.
“What did you tell him?””
“I said yes.””
Emma twisted the hem of her shirt.
“Then Uncle Marcus said to be quiet.””
My jaw tightened.
“Anything else?””
“He said he'd fix it.””
Rachel turned away, covering her mouth.
“How did he say he'd fix it?””
Emma shrugged.
“He said, ‘Soon you won't have to worry about Daddy finding out.’”
I stopped breathing.
Cole looked up.
“Those exact words?””
Emma nodded.
“I think.””
That distinction mattered.
She was five.
Scared children could misremember phrasing.
But the call itself existed.
And Marcus had answered it.
Cole crouched several feet away from her.
“Emma, you did a very good job telling us what you remember. You don't have to keep talking tonight.””
Emma looked at me.
“Can I have pizza?””
My throat closed.
Rachel immediately stood.
“Absolutely.””
Emma hesitated.
“Can I have two pieces?””
Rachel's face crumpled for half a second.
“You can have as much as you're hungry for.””
Emma looked at me for permission.
I nodded.
“Eat until your tummy says you're full.””
She smiled.
It was tiny.
But it was the first smile I'd seen all evening.
While Rachel took Emma into the kitchen, Cole stepped onto the porch with me.
“We need to be careful,” he said.
“About what?””
“Everything.””
“My wife abused my daughter. My business partner stole her money and may have planned my death.””
“I understand what you're saying.””
“You saw the videos.””
“I saw evidence relevant to what happened to Emma. The financial and Seattle allegations require separate verification.””
I rubbed both hands over my face.
“What happens now?””
“Vanessa and Marcus are being questioned separately.””
“And the car company?””
“Detectives are checking it.””
My phone buzzed.
An email.
I almost ignored it.
Then I saw the sender.
Blackridge Executive Transport.
SUBJECT: DRIVER ASSIGNMENT CONFIRMATION.
I opened it.
The message confirmed tomorrow morning's pickup.
But the destination wasn't the airport.
I enlarged the itinerary.
Pickup: 5:30 a.m.
Destination: Private Airfield 17B.
“Cole.””
He read the screen.
“Forward that to me.””
“What is Airfield 17B?””
“I don't know yet.””
I forwarded the email.
Another notification appeared.
This one came from my company's accounting system.
ADMINISTRATOR ACCESS REQUESTED.
User: MARCUS HALE.
Request type: Emergency Ownership Transfer.
I stared at it.
“He's trying to transfer the company.””
Cole frowned.
“From police custody?””
“Could be automated. Could have been scheduled.””
I opened the request.
The authorization document was attached.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
It looked perfect.
Except for one problem.
The document was dated three weeks earlier.
Three weeks earlier, I had been in Boston.
And I had never signed it.
“Another forgery.””
Cole photographed the screen.
“What would this document do?””
“If approved, it gives Marcus controlling authority if I'm dead, incapacitated, or legally unavailable.””
“Legally unavailable?””
“Missing. Hospitalized. Detained. Anything that prevents me from acting.””
Cole's phone rang.
He stepped away.
I went back inside.
Emma sat at Rachel's kitchen table eating pizza.
Slowly this time.
Rachel had placed fruit and a glass of milk beside her.
I sat across from her.
Emma picked up a strawberry.
“Daddy?””
“Yes?””
“Are you mad at me?””
“No.””
“For not telling?””
I reached across the table.
“You were scared.””
She nodded.
“Vanessa said grown-ups wouldn't believe me.””
“I believe you.””
“She said Marcus would say I made it up.””
My hand stopped.
“Marcus said that too?””
Emma nodded.
“When?””
“When he came over.””
I leaned forward.
“Marcus came to the house when I wasn't there?””
“A lot.””
Rachel and I exchanged a look.
“How often?””
Emma shrugged.
“Sometimes when Vanessa told me to stay upstairs.””
“What did they do?””
“I don't know.””
Then Emma suddenly remembered something.
“But once they were fighting.””
“About what?””
“Me.””
My pulse quickened.
“What did they say?””
Emma squeezed the strawberry between her fingers.
“Vanessa said she didn't want to keep me.””
Rachel went completely still.
“And Marcus?””
“He said she had to.””
“Why?””
Emma looked confused.
“Because of Mommy's money.””
I stared at her.
“What money?””
“She said it wasn't enough.””
My phone rang.
Sergeant Cole was still outside, so it wasn't him.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Daniel Carter?””
“Yes.””
“This is Special Agent Lena Brooks with the financial crimes task force.””
I stood.
“How did you get my number?””
“We're with detectives reviewing transactions connected to Marcus Hale.””
My heart pounded.
“That was fast.””
“Mr. Carter, Marcus Hale's name was already connected to an active investigation.””
I gripped the counter.
“For what?””
“I can't discuss the full investigation over the phone. But we need to speak tonight.””
“About Emma's trust?””
A pause.
“Among other things.””
“What other things?””
“Westbridge Logistics.””
I looked through the window at Cole.
“What about it?””
Brooks lowered her voice.
“You need to stop the acquisition immediately.””
“Why?””
“Because Westbridge isn't the company Marcus is actually trying to buy.””
I frowned.
“That doesn't make sense.””
“The corporation named in your closing documents changed forty-eight hours ago.””
My blood ran cold.
“What corporation?””
“We're sending you the amended filing now.””
My email chimed.
I opened the attachment.
Westbridge Logistics LLC.
Acquiring entity:
Carter-Hale Holdings.
I had never heard of it.
Then I saw the registered owners.
Marcus Hale — 40%.
Vanessa Carter — 40%.
And the remaining 20% belonged to a name that made me grip the kitchen counter to stay standing.
May you like
Emma Carter.
My five-year-old daughter.
