Chapter 11: The Man Waiting Behind the Locked Door
The police arrived twenty minutes later.
Daniel was escorted to a separate room while officers photographed the documents and collected his phone.
Nathan refused to leave my side.
But I couldn't sit still.
My father was alive.
Somewhere.
And someone had just threatened to move him.
I held the address Mom had given me.
It belonged to a rehabilitation center outside Nashville, nearly forty miles from the estate.
“I'm going there,” I said.
Nathan immediately nodded.
“I'm coming with you.””
Olivia approached us.
“I've already contacted Eleanor's attorney. He is sending someone to meet us there.””
Mom stood near the study door.
“Emily, please let me come.””
I looked at her.
For twenty years, she'd been the person I ran to whenever something frightened me.
Now I wasn't sure I could trust her.
“Why?””
She lowered her eyes.
“Because I owe your father an apology.””
Chloe stepped forward.
“I want to come too.””
I stared at her.
“You've done enough.””
“I know.””
“Then why?””
She swallowed.
“Because I was there when he asked for you.””
My anger rose again.
“You could have told me!””
“I know.””
“You could have called me!””
“I know!””
She began crying.
“I was seventeen, Emily. Daniel told me Dad would be taken somewhere worse if I told anyone. I believed him.””
I looked away.
“Get in the car.””
The drive was silent.
Nathan held my hand while Mom sat in the back beside Chloe.
When we reached the rehabilitation center, a nurse approached the reception desk.
“Can I help you?””
I placed the photograph on the counter.
“I'm looking for Richard Bennett.””
The nurse examined it.
Then she looked at me.
“Are you his daughter?””
My breath caught.
“Yes.””
She glanced toward the security office.
“Please wait here.””
“Why?””
“Mr. Bennett has requested that only family members be allowed to visit.””
I looked at Mom.
“Family members?””
The nurse nodded.
“He's been expecting someone.””
My eyes filled.
“Is he okay?””
“He's stable. But he's had a difficult few years.””
A few years.
Not twenty.
I stepped closer.
“Please. I need to see him.””
The nurse studied my face.
Then she picked up the phone.
After a brief conversation, she nodded.
“Room 214.””
I nearly ran down the corridor.
Nathan followed.
The hallway smelled of disinfectant and fresh laundry. Somewhere behind a closed door, a television played softly.
Room 214 was at the end.
I stopped outside.
My hand hovered over the handle.
“What if he doesn't recognize me?”” I whispered.
Nathan touched my shoulder.
“He will.””
I opened the door.
A man sat beside the window in a wheelchair, wearing a pale blue sweater.
His hair was almost completely white.
His face was thinner than I remembered.
But when he turned toward me, I recognized his eyes.
The same warm brown eyes that had watched me ride my first bicycle.
The same eyes that had smiled at me on every birthday.
He stared.
Then his lips parted.
“Emily?””
I covered my mouth.
“Daddy?””
His hands began shaking.
“Oh, sweetheart.””
I crossed the room and fell into his arms.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
I cried against his shoulder while he held the back of my head.
“I thought you were dead,” I whispered.
“I know.””
“I thought you left us.””
He closed his eyes.
“I never left you.””
I pulled back.
“Why didn't you come home?””
His face changed.
He looked toward the door.
“Did Daniel send you?””
“No.””
“Is he still controlling the family?””
“Not anymore.””
Dad swallowed.
“Then I suppose it's time.””
He reached toward the bedside table and picked up a small wooden box.
Inside was a wedding photograph.
My parents stood beneath a flower-covered arch, smiling.
Behind the photograph was a folded letter.
“Your grandmother brought this to me years ago,” he said.
“She told me to keep it until one of my daughters was ready to hear the truth.””
I sat beside him.
“What truth?””
Dad looked at me.
“Daniel didn't arrange my disappearance alone.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“I know Mom signed documents.””
“Your mother was frightened. But she wasn't the person who kept me here.””
“Who was?””
Dad looked toward the doorway.
Chloe was standing there.
Her face was wet with tears.
Dad stared at her for a long moment.
“Chloe.””
She stepped into the room.
“Daddy.””
He reached for her hand.
She collapsed beside his wheelchair.
“I'm sorry.””
He stroked her hair.
“I know, sweetheart.””
I looked between them.
“Dad, please tell me who did this.””
He took a deep breath.
“Someone used my identity to sign financial documents after I was supposedly dead. They also arranged for the medical facility to keep me under a different name.””
Nathan frowned.
“Who had access to those records?””
Dad looked at the wooden box.
“An attorney.””
“Which attorney?””
Dad opened the folded letter.
“Eleanor suspected him. She tried to expose him, but he was always one step ahead.””
He handed me the letter.
At the bottom was a name.
*Thomas Whitaker.*
I recognized it immediately.
Thomas was Eleanor's estate attorney.
He had attended her funeral.
He had explained the inheritance arrangements.
And he was the person Olivia had just contacted.
My phone rang.
It was Olivia.
I answered.
“Emily, you need to listen carefully.””
“What happened?””
“Thomas Whitaker just arrived at the estate. He says he has a court order authorizing him to take possession of the original trust documents.””
I looked at Dad.
His face had gone completely pale.
“Don't give him anything,” Dad whispered.
“Why?””
He gripped my hand.
“Because Thomas wasn't just Daniel's lawyer.””
He swallowed.
“He was the person who signed the medical transfer papers that kept me hidden.””
Then Dad pointed toward the wooden box.
“Emily, there's another document in there. The one that proves who paid him.””
I opened the box.
There was a bank statement.
A transfer for $1.2 million.
The recipient was Thomas Whitaker.
May you like
But the sender's name made my blood run cold.
It was Nathan's father.
