Chapter 4: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The message glowed on Lauren's phone, illuminating her trembling fingers.
*Stop looking for the box. Daniel is alive.*
I read it again, hoping the words would somehow rearrange themselves into something less impossible.
My brother had been dead for nine years. I had stood beside his hospital bed in Indiana, identified his body, and watched the funeral director close the casket. I had mourned him even after our last argument, because blood doesn't stop being blood simply because a man disappoints you.
Now a stranger was telling me that my brother had been alive all along.
"Give me the phone," Jared demanded.
Lauren pulled it against her chest.
"No.""
"Lauren, someone just threatened my family.""
"It's not a threat.""
"Then what is it?""
She stared at the message.
"It's a warning.""
David Mercer immediately photographed the screen with his own phone.
"Mrs. Whitmore, don't delete anything. We need to preserve this message and identify the sender.""
Lauren gave a brittle laugh.
"You think the police can solve this? You have no idea who you're dealing with.""
"Then perhaps you'd like to enlighten us," Mercer replied.
She said nothing.
I stood beside the kitchen window, looking down at the street. A delivery truck rattled over a pothole. A woman in a red scarf hurried past with a paper bag tucked beneath her arm. Ordinary life continued as if my entire world hadn't just been turned upside down.
"Lauren," I said quietly, "did you know Daniel was alive?""
She closed her eyes.
That was answer enough.
Jared took a step toward her.
"You knew?""
"I didn't know for certain.""
"That's not what I asked.""
She looked at him, tears gathering along her lower lashes.
"Three years ago, I received a letter from a man claiming to be Daniel. He knew details about Margaret's trust that nobody outside the family should have known. He told me he could destroy everything if I didn't cooperate.""
"Cooperate how?""
"He wanted access to the trust account.""
Jared's expression hardened.
"So you gave him access to my money.""
"I thought I could control the situation.""
"You stole from my father!""
"I was trying to keep your company out of a lawsuit!""
Mercer raised a hand.
"One at a time. Mrs. Whitmore, did you transfer money to an account designated by Daniel?""
Lauren hesitated.
"Some of it.""
"How much?""
"I don't know.""
Jared slammed his palm against the table.
"Stop lying!""
She flinched.
For the first time since I'd known her, Lauren seemed genuinely afraid of my son.
Then she whispered, "Sixty thousand dollars went to my brother. The rest went into an account I was told belonged to Daniel.""
Mercer opened his folder.
"An account in the Cayman Islands?""
Her eyes widened.
"How do you know that?""
"Because we've traced several transactions.""
Jared stared at her.
"How much did you keep?""
"Nothing.""
He gave a humorless laugh.
"Your handbag costs more than Dad's annual income.""
"I bought that years ago!""
"And the car? The vacations? The jewelry?""
Lauren's mouth opened, but no words came.
I had watched this woman sit in my apartment and tell me I was fortunate to have a son who cared about me. She had praised Jared's generosity while I rationed my food. Once, she'd even brought me a small box of chocolates and said I should treat myself because retirement was supposed to be enjoyable.
I remembered how she had watched me put the chocolates in a cupboard, saving them for Christmas.
I wondered whether she'd laughed about it afterward.
"Get out," I said.
Lauren turned toward me.
"Robert—"
"Get out of my apartment.""
"Please. You don't understand what Daniel is capable of.""
"I understand that I trusted you.""
Her face crumpled.
"I never wanted you to suffer.""
"Then you should have stopped taking my money.""
She looked at Jared one last time.
"Sweetheart, if you love me at all, you'll let me explain this somewhere private.""
Jared removed his wedding ring and placed it on the table.
"I've listened to your explanations for three years. I just didn't know they were lies.""
Lauren stared at the ring.
Then she grabbed her handbag and walked toward the door.
Before leaving, she turned back.
"Don't go to the old house," she said.
"If Daniel knows you've received that letter, he'll be waiting.""
The door shut behind her.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then Mercer picked up the brass key.
"We need to contact the police and arrange protection. Whoever sent that message knows where you live.""
Jared shook his head.
"We're not waiting.""
"Mr. Whitmore, this isn't a business dispute. It may involve fraud, identity theft, and possibly a staged death.""
"My father has been robbed for three years. Someone is threatening him now. I'm not sitting in a conference room while lawyers argue over paperwork.""
Mercer looked at me.
"Mr. Whitmore, the decision is yours.""
I looked down at Margaret's letter.
For eleven years, I had believed my wife's secrets died with her. Now I wondered whether the woman I loved had spent her final days trying to protect me from something I was never allowed to understand.
"I want to see the house," I said.
Jared turned toward me.
"Dad, it's dangerous.""
"So is staying here, apparently.""
Mercer sighed.
"Then we do this properly. We notify the authorities, verify the property's ownership, and take someone with us who knows what we're looking for.""
He began gathering his documents.
My son helped me put on my old winter coat. Its lining had torn beneath one arm, and the zipper stuck halfway up.
Jared noticed.
He looked away quickly, but not before I saw the shame in his face.
As we reached the door, my phone vibrated.
It was a number I didn't recognize.
A single message appeared.
*Robert, if you want to know why Margaret died, come alone.*
Beneath it was a photograph of my wife sitting at a restaurant table.
She looked older than she had in our last family photograph.
And sitting opposite her, smiling into the camera, was Daniel.
May you like
The timestamp read October 16, 2015.
One day before her death.
