Chapter 4: The Body They Said Was My Father
The detective knocked a third time.
Daniel stood halfway down the stairs, his shirt still damp from the bucket of water I'd thrown at him. My mother remained beside the bedroom door, clutching her towel so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
Neither of them moved.
I walked past Daniel.
"Emily, wait," he said.
I turned.
"Give me one reason I should listen to you.""
His mouth opened, but nothing came out.
I went downstairs and unlocked the front door.
Two officers stood on the porch. The older one wore a dark jacket and carried a leather folder. The younger officer glanced past me into the hallway, where Daniel had finally begun descending the stairs.
"Mrs. Hayes?"" the older detective asked.
"Thompson," I replied automatically.
"My name is Emily Thompson.""
He studied me for a moment.
"I'm Detective Harris. This is Officer Miller. We'd like to ask you some questions about your father, Richard Thompson.""
Behind me, my mother whispered, "Oh, God.""
Detective Harris heard her.
"Mrs. Patricia Thompson?""
My mother appeared beside Daniel.
"Yes.""
"Could we come inside?""
I stepped aside.
The detective entered, followed by his partner. Their shoes squeaked against the hardwood floor. Miller noticed the wet footprints leading from the stairs and raised an eyebrow.
"Rough afternoon?"" he asked.
"You have no idea," I answered.
Harris opened his folder.
"Mrs. Thompson, a maintenance worker discovered human remains this morning on a property outside Atlanta. The remains were concealed beneath the concrete floor of an abandoned storage building once owned by your father's company.""
My stomach tightened.
"Are you saying that's my father?""
"We haven't confirmed the identity yet.""
My mother suddenly sat down.
Daniel moved toward her, but she jerked away.
"Don't touch me.""
I stared at her.
Five minutes earlier, she'd been terrified of the police arriving. Now she looked as though she might faint.
Harris continued.
"We also discovered a metal case containing documents bearing your father's name. Several of those documents relate to financial transfers made shortly before his disappearance.""
"Disappearance?"" I asked.
"My father supposedly died six years ago.""
The detective's expression changed.
"That's why we're here.""
He removed a photograph from the folder and placed it on the coffee table.
It showed a concrete floor broken open around a dark, narrow space. Beside it lay a rusted metal case.
My hands began to shake.
"Was he murdered?""
"We don't know yet.""
"Then why did you come here?""
"Because your name appears on a document recovered from the property.""
I stared at him.
"What document?""
He turned another photograph toward me.
It was a photocopy of a financial authorization. My name appeared at the bottom, beneath a series of transactions totaling more than two million dollars.
I had never seen it before.
"I didn't sign that.""
"Can you explain the transactions?""
"No.""
Harris watched my face carefully.
"Mrs. Thompson, these transfers began shortly before your father's disappearance and continued for several months afterward. The account was registered under your name.""
"I didn't know that account existed.""
Daniel stepped forward.
"She's telling the truth.""
The detective turned toward him.
"And you are?""
"Daniel Hayes. Her husband.""
"Mr. Hayes, we'll get to you shortly.""
Daniel fell silent.
I looked at the photograph again.
My signature had been forged on the estate agreement. Now the police had another document bearing what appeared to be my signature.
Someone had spent years constructing a story in which I was responsible for money I had never touched.
"Detective," I said, "I need to tell you something.""
My mother shot to her feet.
"Emily, don't.""
I turned toward her.
"You're done telling me what to do.""
Then I told Harris about the phone call. About my father's voice. About the money Daniel had admitted receiving. About the agreement listing my mother and my husband as beneficiaries.
I left out nothing.
When I finished, the detective closed his folder slowly.
"That's a serious allegation.""
"I know.""
"Do you have the agreement?""
I handed it to him.
He examined the pages, stopping at the forged signature.
"Where did you find this?""
"Daniel's nightstand.""
Harris looked toward my husband.
"Mr. Hayes, is this your document?""
Daniel swallowed.
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"Because I was investigating the estate.""
"Under whose authority?""
Daniel looked at my mother.
She stared at the floor.
"Answer me," Harris said.
Daniel's shoulders sagged.
"Richard Thompson hired me.""
The detective exchanged a glance with his partner.
"Then perhaps you can explain why your name appears on a transfer of half a million dollars from Mr. Thompson's company.""
I turned toward Daniel.
"You said your father paid you to protect me.""
"He did.""
"But you also told me the money wasn't important.""
Daniel looked at me with exhausted eyes.
"I was trying to keep you out of this.""
I laughed bitterly.
"By marrying me? By sleeping with my mother? By letting me believe my father died penniless?""
He flinched.
Before he could answer, Harris's radio crackled.
A voice came through, distorted by static.
"Detective, we've got a match on the vehicle registered to Patricia Thompson. It's connected to the original investigation.""
My mother went completely still.
Harris lowered his radio.
"Mrs. Thompson, did you own a blue Chevrolet Suburban six years ago?""
She shook her head.
"No.""
The detective opened another photograph.
It showed a blue Chevrolet parked outside an abandoned warehouse.
The license plate was clearly visible.
My mother pressed a hand over her mouth.
I recognized the vehicle.
I'd ridden in it dozens of times as a child. She'd sold it shortly after Dad's funeral, telling me the money was needed to pay his remaining debts.
Harris pointed to the driver's door.
"Your fingerprints were recovered from the steering wheel. We also found traces of blood in the rear cargo area.""
My mother began shaking her head.
"No. No, that's not possible.""
"Mrs. Thompson, where were you on the night of October fourteenth, six years ago?""
She looked at Daniel.
He closed his eyes.
And then my mother whispered something that made Detective Harris stand up.
"I wasn't there when Richard disappeared.""
Harris's voice hardened.
"Then why did your vehicle leave the property three hours later?""
My mother stared at him.
"Because I was taking my daughter home.""
I stopped breathing.
"Me?""
May you like
She looked at me with tears streaming down her face.
"You were asleep in the back seat, Emily.""
