Chapter 13: The Woman Waiting in My Daughter's Bedroom
"Get to my daughter. Now!""
I shouted the words so loudly that Detective Bennett flinched.
The driver accelerated through the Atlanta streets while two officers contacted the security team at my house.
I kept calling the officer assigned to Sophie.
No answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
My hands were shaking.
"Please pick up," I whispered.
Detective Bennett placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Michael, listen to me. We have officers approaching the property. Nobody is going to let your daughter get hurt.""
I stared at the message.
*I've waited six years to see my granddaughter. Don't make me leave without her.*
My mother had been dead for three years.
At least, that was what I had believed.
Now she was inside my house.
Waiting for Sophie.
When we finally reached the property, police vehicles surrounded the driveway.
I jumped out before the car had completely stopped.
"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?""
An officer hurried toward me.
"She's safe, sir.""
My knees nearly gave out.
"Where?""
"Upstairs with another officer.""
I rushed through the front door.
The living room looked exactly as I had left it, except for a small cardboard package sitting on the coffee table.
Detective Bennett followed me.
"Don't touch anything.""
I stopped.
On top of the package was a handwritten note.
*For Sophie. With love, Grandma Eleanor.*
I felt sick.
An officer escorted Sophie downstairs.
The moment she saw me, she ran into my arms.
"Daddy!""
I lifted her.
"Are you okay?""
She nodded.
Then she whispered, "Grandma came.""
I closed my eyes.
"What did she say?""
Sophie looked toward the staircase.
"She said she missed me.""
I swallowed.
"Did she touch you?""
"No. She wanted me to show her Grandpa's wooden box.""
My heart started pounding.
"Did you show her?""
Sophie shook her head.
"I told her Daddy said I shouldn't give my special things to strangers.""
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
"Good girl.""
She buried her face in my shoulder.
Then she whispered something else.
"She said you were a bad man because you stole her money.""
I looked toward Detective Bennett.
"Where is she?""
The officer pointed toward the upstairs hallway.
"She left through the back entrance before we arrived.""
Detective Bennett immediately ordered a search of the property.
I carried Sophie into the kitchen and sat with her.
"Baby, did Grandma tell you where she was going?""
Sophie nodded.
"She said she was going to the place where Grandpa kept his treasures.""
I froze.
"What place?""
"She said the old house.""
My father's old family home had been sold years earlier.
Or so I thought.
I looked at the detective.
"Can you check whether the property is still connected to my family?""
She made a call.
While she waited, I opened the package.
Inside was a photograph of my father holding Sophie as a newborn.
On the back, my mother had written:
*Your father made one mistake. He trusted the wrong son.*
Beneath the photograph was a small envelope.
I opened it.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Michael,
I know you hate me. I know what Richard told you. But you don't know the entire truth.
Your father didn't leave the company to you because he trusted you more than me. He left it to you because he knew what I had become.
I tried to stop the accident.
I stopped reading.
I looked at Detective Bennett.
"She claims she tried to stop it.""
The detective took the letter.
"That doesn't establish anything. We need evidence.""
Then she noticed something at the bottom.
A telephone number.
"Do you recognize this?""
I shook my head.
She handed it to an officer.
He checked it.
A moment later, his expression changed.
"Detective, this number belongs to a private security company.""
"What company?""
"Hayes Protective Services.""
My father's old security business.
The company Martin had once managed.
Detective Bennett frowned.
"That's impossible. That company was dissolved years ago.""
The officer shook his head.
"Not entirely. Someone reactivated its registration six months ago.""
"Who?""
He turned his screen toward us.
The registered director was Eleanor Hayes.
My mother.
I stared at the screen.
She hadn't simply survived.
She had been rebuilding her network.
And she had been doing it while everyone believed she was dead.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Michael.""
Her voice.
Older, softer, but unmistakable.
"Hello, sweetheart.""
I couldn't speak.
"I know you're angry," she continued.
"But I need you to listen.""
"You came into my house.""
"I wanted to see Sophie.""
"You scared my daughter.""
"I would never hurt her.""
"You arranged my accident.""
There was a long pause.
Then she said:
"I arranged for you to be stopped. I never intended for you to die.""
I felt my hands tighten.
"That's supposed to make me feel better?""
"No. But it is the truth.""
"Where are you?""
"At your father's old house.""
I closed my eyes.
"What do you want?""
"The wooden box. Bring it to me.""
"Why?""
"Because your father hid something inside it that belongs to me.""
I looked at Sophie.
She was holding her stuffed rabbit and listening.
I lowered my voice.
"You're not getting anywhere near my daughter again.""
My mother sighed.
"Michael, if you don't bring that box, Richard will never tell you who actually caused the crash.""
I frowned.
"Richard is in police custody.""
"Then ask him who removed the brake line.""
The call ended.
Detective Bennett stared at me.
"Did she just say something about your brakes?""
I nodded.
She immediately contacted the officers questioning Richard.
A few minutes later, the detective received a call.
She listened.
Her face hardened.
Then she looked at me.
"Mr. Hayes, Richard has just admitted that someone tampered with your vehicle.""
"Who?""
She swallowed.
"He says your mother ordered it.""
I looked down at the letter.
My mother claimed she had tried to stop the accident.
Richard claimed she had ordered it.
And somewhere inside my father's old wooden box was the truth.
Detective Bennett took a breath.
"We're going to the old house.""
I nodded.
But before we left, Sophie tugged at my sleeve.
"Daddy?""
"Yes, sweetheart?""
She looked at the wooden box in her little hands.
"Grandma isn't the only person who wants this.""
I frowned.
"What do you mean?""
Sophie opened the small compartment beneath the lid.
Inside was a folded piece of paper.
She pulled it out.
May you like
There was a message written in my father's handwriting.
*If Eleanor comes looking for this, do not give it to her. The person she fears most is still alive.*
