Chapter 6: The Money That Bought His Silence
I couldn't speak.
My grandfather took the phone from my hand and examined the photograph. His face had gone completely still.
“Is it true?”” I finally asked.
He didn't answer.
“Grandpa, did you pay Richard to disappear?””
He placed the phone on the table.
“Sit down, Phoebe.””
“No.””
“Please.””
“I've spent my entire life believing you protected my mother. Now someone is telling me you paid the man she feared to leave the country. I need an answer.””
He closed his eyes briefly.
Then he pulled out a chair.
“I paid Richard twenty million dollars.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I grabbed the edge of the table.
“Why?””
“Because he threatened to release confidential documents that could have damaged the company and exposed several people who were involved in the original financial misconduct.””
“Were you one of them?””
“No.””
“Then why pay him?””
“Because the documents contained information about your mother, and I believed releasing them would put you in danger.””
I stared at him.
“You keep saying you were protecting me. Did you ever consider asking me what I wanted?””
His expression crumpled.
“Yes. And I made the wrong decision.””
He looked older than I had ever seen him.
“When Richard began threatening us, your mother was already investigating him. She believed he had stolen money through shell companies and used our family's connections to hide it. I wanted to report everything, but she begged me to give her time to find the original records.””
“And then she died.””
“Yes.””
“Was the accident connected to Richard?””
“I don't know.””
“But you paid him twenty million dollars anyway.””
“I paid him because he promised to disappear, surrender the stolen records, and never contact our family again.””
“And you believed him?””
“I wanted to.””
I pulled out a chair and sat down.
For the first time that day, I felt completely exhausted.
The wedding humiliation had been a sharp, immediate pain. This was different. This was the slow destruction of every story I had told myself about my family.
My grandfather reached across the table, but I moved my hand away.
“Did Mom know about the payment?””
“No. I made it after her death.””
“Then why is there a photograph of her with Richard six months before she died?””
Grandpa studied the image again.
“I don't know where it came from.””
“Was she meeting him secretly?””
“Possibly.””
“Why would she meet the man she was afraid of?””
“Maybe she believed she could persuade him to stop.””
I stared at the photograph.
My mother had always been stubborn. Even when she was sick, she refused to accept help unless she absolutely needed it. She believed people could be reasoned with, even when they had given her every reason not to trust them.
Perhaps she had met Richard hoping to save her brother.
Perhaps she had discovered something that frightened him.
Or perhaps the photograph was intended to make us believe something that wasn't true.
I was beginning to understand how dangerous it was to trust a single piece of evidence.
“Where did the twenty million dollars go?”” I asked.
“Through a settlement account controlled by my personal attorneys. The transaction was confidential.””
“Could someone trace it?””
“Someone with the right access could.””
My phone buzzed again.
This time, it was Jessica.
*Phoebe, I need to tell you something about Daniel. Please don't ignore me.*
I hesitated before answering.
*What?*
Her reply came immediately.
*He knew Richard before we met. He told me they were family friends, but I found an old photograph in his office. Daniel was standing beside Richard at a private event five years ago.*
I read the message aloud.
Grandpa's face hardened.
“Show me.””
I handed him the phone.
Jessica sent another message.
*I also found a folder in Daniel's apartment marked E.B. There were bank statements, copies of your mother's trust documents, and a photograph of you from when you were a child. I took pictures before I left.*
My skin prickled.
A photograph of me as a child?
Why would Daniel have that?
I typed quickly.
*Send everything to Margaret. Don't delete anything, and don't confront Daniel alone.*
Jessica replied with a thumbs-up, followed by a photograph.
It showed a manila folder on a desk.
The label read E.B. — ORIGINAL RECORDS.
Beneath it lay a document bearing the name Northstar Holdings.
Grandpa stood.
“Call Margaret. Tell her we need to identify every person connected to that company.””
Before I could move, another message appeared on Jessica's phone.
She had forwarded it to me.
*I shouldn't have told you about the folder. Daniel knows I took photographs. He's coming back for them.*
I immediately called her.
She answered on the second ring.
“Phoebe?”” Her voice was shaking.
“Where are you?””
“At my apartment. I locked the door.””
“Call the police.””
“I already did. They're on their way.””
“Is Daniel there?””
“No, but he keeps calling me.””
“Don't open the door for anyone until the officers arrive.””
A loud crash sounded through the phone.
Jessica screamed.
“Jessica?””
Someone shouted in the background.
Then her voice returned, barely audible.
“He's here.””
“Get away from the door!””
I heard another crash, followed by the sound of something falling.
Then the call went dead.
I stood frozen, staring at my phone.
Grandpa grabbed his coat.
“Call the police again. Tell them we have reason to believe someone has broken into her apartment.””
I dialed the emergency number while he instructed his driver to bring the car around.
The next twenty minutes felt endless.
When we arrived at Jessica's apartment building, two police cruisers were already parked outside. An officer met us in the lobby and directed us upstairs.
Jessica sat on the floor beside her front door, wrapped in a blanket.
She was shaking, but she was alive.
Daniel was nowhere to be seen.
A police officer stood beside a broken desk, photographing the room. Drawers had been pulled open, papers scattered across the carpet, and the bedroom closet had been emptied.
“They were looking for something,” Jessica whispered.
I crouched beside her.
“What happened?””
“He used his key. I told him to leave, but he pushed past me and started searching the apartment.””
“Did he hurt you?””
“He grabbed my arm. I screamed, and the neighbors called the police. He ran before they arrived.””
She looked at me with terrified eyes.
“He kept asking where the original documents were.””
“Which documents?””
“The ones in the folder. I only photographed some of them. I left the folder in Daniel's apartment.””
My grandfather's jaw tightened.
“Did he say anything else?””
Jessica swallowed.
“He said Richard would kill him if he didn't get the documents back.””
I felt a chill move through me.
“Did he say where Richard was?””
She nodded slowly.
“He told someone on the phone that he was meeting Richard tonight.””
“Where?””
Jessica looked at me.
“At the cemetery.””
My breath caught.
“Which cemetery?””
She began to cry.
“Where your mother is buried.””
An officer approached us.
“Miss Moore, we need you to come with us to give a formal statement.””
Jessica nodded, but before she stood, she grabbed my wrist.
“Phoebe, there's something else. I heard Daniel tell Richard that he had already found what they needed.””
“What did he find?””
She looked toward the broken apartment door.
“Your mother's original letter.””
My heart stopped.
“What letter?””
May you like
Jessica's lips trembled.
“The one she wrote to you the night before she died.””
