Chapter 11: The Evidence Hidden in Plain Sight
The next morning, Detective Rebecca Mills arrived at our house with another officer.
She carried a folder and a small digital recorder.
My father opened the door.
When he saw the detectives, he looked as though he had aged ten years overnight.
"Mr. Carter," Detective Mills said, "we need to ask you some questions regarding your wife's death and the financial transactions connected to Hale Atelier Group.""
Dad glanced at Vanessa.
She stood behind him, gripping the banister.
"I've already explained everything I know," he said.
"Then this should be straightforward.""
I watched from the living room as the detectives entered.
For the first time, my father couldn't end a conversation by telling me to go to my room.
Detective Mills sat across from him.
"We've obtained records showing a payment of seventy-five thousand dollars from Martin Hale to your account one day before your wife's fatal collision.""
Dad swallowed.
"That payment was related to a business agreement.""
"What business agreement?""
"An agreement concerning her designs.""
"Did your wife consent to the transfer?""
He stared at his hands.
"Not completely.""
Detective Mills switched on the recorder.
"Did you know Martin Hale had threatened your wife?""
"Yes.""
"Did you know he had been accused of forging her signature?""
"Yes.""
"Did you know her vehicle had been tampered with before the collision?""
Dad's head snapped up.
"What?""
The detective studied him.
"You're saying you didn't know?""
"No.""
"Then explain why the mechanic has identified Mr. Hale as the person who paid him to alter the inspection report.""
Dad went pale.
I leaned forward.
"Detective, can I show you something?""
She turned toward me.
I handed her the photograph of the original ownership certificate and the copies of my mother's correspondence.
"I found these in my mother's storage unit. There's also a recording where she describes Martin's threats and the payment agreement.""
Detective Mills reviewed the documents carefully.
"Do you have the original files?""
"Yes. I have copies, and Paul Bennett has another set.""
She nodded.
"We'll arrange to collect them.""
Then she looked at my father.
"Mr. Carter, we also need to discuss the statement you made after the collision.""
Dad stared at her.
"What statement?""
"You told investigators your wife had left home voluntarily and that you hadn't seen her since the previous evening.""
He nodded slowly.
"That's true.""
"Your daughter has provided a recording in which your wife says she planned to leave with her.""
Dad's face crumpled.
"She was upset. I thought she'd calm down.""
"Did you prevent her from leaving with Nia?""
He looked at me.
I waited.
"Yes," he whispered.
"Why?""
"Because I thought she would take our daughter and disappear.""
Detective Mills wrote something down.
"Did you know she intended to report Martin Hale to the police the following morning?""
Dad closed his eyes.
"Yes.""
"And did you contact Mr. Hale after she left the house?""
He said nothing.
The silence lasted so long that I could hear the kitchen clock ticking.
Finally, Dad spoke.
"I called him because I was worried. I asked him to help me find her.""
"Did he?""
"He said she had gone to the police.""
"Did you believe him?""
Dad shook his head.
"No.""
"Why not?""
"Because he told me that if I cooperated, the financial agreement would remain confidential. He said my wife had taken money from him and was trying to extort more.""
Detective Mills leaned forward.
"Did you believe that accusation?""
"I wanted to.""
The answer was so quiet I almost missed it.
He looked at me.
"I wanted to believe it because the alternative was admitting I'd helped him betray your mother.""
My throat tightened.
For a moment, I remembered the father who had taught me to ride a bicycle, who had held my hand at my mother's funeral, who had promised that we would always take care of each other.
Then I remembered him standing in my sewing room, dismissing four months of work as just a dress.
Detective Mills continued questioning him.
When she finished, she asked Vanessa to join them.
Vanessa entered with a rigid posture and a carefully composed expression.
"I have nothing to hide," she announced.
Detective Mills opened a second folder.
"Then perhaps you can explain this document.""
She placed the original design certificate on the table.
Vanessa stared at it.
"We've already discussed this.""
"No. We've discussed a copy. This is the original certificate recovered from the storage unit.""
Vanessa's face tightened.
"Your mother gave it to me.""
"Why?""
"She wanted me to witness the transfer.""
"The transfer that the contract describes as voluntary?""
"Yes.""
"Yet the original certificate explicitly states that the collection remained your mother's property.""
Vanessa said nothing.
Detective Mills turned the page.
"And this is a photograph taken at the exhibition five years ago. You signed as a witness to the original ownership of the red collection.""
Vanessa looked at me.
I held her gaze.
"You knew the designs were Mom's.""
She pressed her lips together.
"I knew she had created them.""
"Then why did you help Martin steal them?""
Her composure finally cracked.
"Because I was afraid!""
The words erupted from her.
Everyone went silent.
Vanessa stood, breathing hard.
"Martin had threatened David. He knew about our debts. He said he could destroy us financially if we didn't cooperate.""
"So you decided to destroy my mother instead?"" I asked.
"I didn't know he would hurt her.""
"Did you know she was going to leave that night?""
Vanessa looked at my father.
He shook his head, silently begging her not to answer.
She turned back to the detective.
"Yes.""
My father rose.
"Vanessa, don't.""
She ignored him.
"I knew she was leaving. I knew she planned to take Nia. I knew she intended to expose Martin.""
Detective Mills switched on the recorder again.
"What happened after your wife left the house?""
Vanessa began to cry.
"I don't know exactly what happened on the highway. I swear. But Martin called me at dawn. He said there had been an accident and that we needed to keep our mouths shut.""
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"You knew she was dead," I whispered.
Vanessa shook her head desperately.
"I didn't know for certain until later.""
"And you said nothing?""
"I was afraid.""
The detective stood.
"You're both going to need legal counsel before we continue.""
As the officers prepared to leave, my father reached toward me.
"Nia, please.""
I stepped away.
He lowered his hand.
"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness.""
"No," I said.
"You don't.""
His eyes filled with tears.
"But I can still help you. I can tell the truth about Martin. I can testify.""
I studied him.
"Why now?""
He looked at the floor.
"Because I can't keep pretending I didn't know what he was capable of.""
I wanted to believe him.
But five years of silence had taught me that a confession was not the same as courage.
My phone buzzed.
A message from the competition organizer appeared.
*FINAL PRESENTATION CONFIRMED FOR TOMORROW AT 10:00 A.M. ALL DESIGNERS MUST ARRIVE WITH THEIR GARMENTS.*
Beneath it was another notification.
Brianna had posted a new video.
She stood in front of a mirror wearing my sapphire-blue gown.
Her caption read:
Tomorrow, I finally become the designer I've always dreamed of being.
Then she lifted the hem to show the embroidery.
I zoomed in.
Something was wrong.
The butterflies were missing.
In their place, Brianna had added large gold appliqués and a row of imitation pearls.
She had altered my design beyond recognition.
And in the video's final seconds, she turned toward someone standing outside the frame.
"Don't worry," she said.
"By tomorrow, Nia won't have a dress to compete with.""
A man's voice answered.
"Make sure of it.""
May you like
I recognized the voice immediately.
Martin Hale.
