Chapter 5: The Man in the Darkness
I screamed.
A hand clamped over my mouth, and I felt myself being pulled backward toward the filing cabinets.
My father shouted my name.
"Olivia!""
I drove my heel into the stranger's shin.
He cursed, releasing me long enough for me to twist free. I stumbled against the desk, knocking the wooden box to the floor.
Emergency lights flickered on.
A man stood near the window, dressed in a dark coat and black gloves.
He was holding a small flashlight.
James stepped in front of me.
"Who are you?""
The stranger raised his free hand.
"I'm not here to hurt her.""
"Then explain why you're grabbing my daughter in a locked room!"" my father roared.
The man looked at me.
"Because we have very little time, and every second you spend trusting the wrong people makes it easier for them to finish what they started.""
Daniel moved toward the doorway.
"Security is on its way. Put your hands where I can see them.""
The stranger laughed bitterly.
"Security? The same security system someone disabled tonight?""
My father's face tightened.
"Who are you?""
The man reached into his coat.
James immediately grabbed a heavy brass candlestick from the desk.
"Slowly," he warned.
The stranger withdrew a wallet and opened it.
Inside was an identification card.
*Detective Frank Sullivan.*
I recoiled.
The same man from the photograph.
The same man who had stood beside my bed.
The detective my father had hired to investigate my mother's death.
My father lunged forward, but Daniel caught his arm.
"You'd better start talking," Richard said.
Sullivan glanced at the recorder on the floor.
"Your wife left you evidence. Did you listen to the entire recording?""
"Yes," I answered.
"She said Denise wasn't working alone.""
His expression changed.
"Then she told you more than I expected.""
My father shoved Daniel aside.
"You entered my daughter's bedroom last night.""
Sullivan lowered his eyes.
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"To retrieve something before Denise's people found it.""
"People?"" I demanded.
"How many people are involved in this?""
Sullivan looked toward the open door.
"At least three that I can identify. Possibly more.""
Daniel shook his head.
"This is absurd. Frank, you disappeared for three days, and now you break into the Carter residence? If you have evidence, you should have taken it to the police.""
Sullivan turned sharply.
"Which police department? The one that closed a murder investigation after its lead investigator received a payment from a shell company? Or the one whose evidence clerk signed out your mother's file and never returned it?""
Daniel's face stiffened.
"That's a serious accusation.""
"I have the payment records.""
Sullivan reached into his coat again and produced a small envelope.
This time, he handed it directly to my father.
Inside were photocopies of bank transfers, correspondence, and a photograph of a man carrying a cardboard archive box into a parking garage.
My father studied the documents.
"Who paid the investigator?""
"A company called Northbridge Consulting," Sullivan said.
"The same network behind the property transfer request.""
Daniel took a step backward.
Sullivan noticed.
"Something bothering you, counselor?""
Daniel's voice became sharp.
"You have no idea what you're accusing me of.""
"Then you'll have no trouble explaining why your firm's name appears on a document your client's wife specifically warned him about.""
I looked at the photograph of my mother.
The unknown man standing beside her had been holding a Whitmore Legal Associates folder.
Now the name felt like a warning.
"Daniel," I said, "did you know my mother?""
He hesitated.
"Of course I knew her. I handled some of the foundation's legal work.""
"Did you know about this trust amendment?""
"No.""
Sullivan stepped closer.
"Are you certain?""
Daniel snapped his briefcase shut.
"Absolutely.""
My father stared at him.
"Then why do you look as though you'd rather be anywhere else?""
For the first time, Daniel appeared unable to find an answer.
James quietly locked the archive room door.
"We need to establish who has access to this house," he said.
"And we need to do it before midnight.""
Sullivan nodded.
"There's another reason I came tonight. The man who helped Denise arrange the transfer is planning to leave Atlanta. I intercepted a message indicating that he's carrying the original death file.""
My father gripped the envelope.
"Where?""
"The old Carter warehouse near the Chattahoochee River. He'll be there shortly after midnight.""
"Then we're going there," my father said.
Sullivan shook his head.
"No. You and Olivia stay here.""
"That's my wife's death we're talking about.""
"And that's exactly why you're too close to this to make a rational decision.""
My father stepped toward him.
"Watch yourself.""
Sullivan didn't flinch.
"Richard, I have spent seven years trying to discover who killed your wife. I am telling you that whoever did it has been watching your daughter. If you take her to that warehouse, you could walk both of you into a trap.""
I looked at the key still clenched in my hand.
"What exactly did my mother hide?""
Sullivan's expression softened.
"She discovered that someone had altered the family trust before her death. She found a way to prove it, but she didn't trust the legal system to protect her.""
"Why didn't she tell Dad?""
"She tried.""
My father went completely still.
Sullivan continued.
"Three days before she died, she called me. She said she had evidence that someone close to her was planning to take control of the trust. She wanted to meet me privately.""
"What happened?""
"She never made it to the meeting.""
My throat tightened.
"Are you saying someone stopped her?""
"I'm saying the timing was not a coincidence.""
My father closed his eyes.
For seven years, he'd believed the worst day of his life had been an accident.
Now he had to consider that someone had deliberately taken his wife from him.
A sudden pounding came from the other side of the archive room door.
"Mr. Carter!"" a security officer shouted.
"You need to come upstairs immediately!""
My father opened the door.
The officer looked terrified.
"Mrs. Carter is gone.""
Daniel rushed into the hallway.
"What do you mean, gone?""
"Her bedroom is empty. The rear service entrance is open, and one of the vehicles is missing.""
My father swore under his breath.
Sullivan checked his watch.
"She's heading for the warehouse.""
I looked at him.
"How do you know?""
"Because she's the one who sent me the message about the original death file.""
He pulled out his phone and showed us a text.
Midnight. Come alone, or the girl dies.
The message had arrived twenty minutes earlier.
My father stared at the screen.
"She wants Olivia?""
"No," Sullivan said.
"She wants the key.""
I looked down at the brass key in my hand.
The one my mother had hidden.
The one she had trusted James to protect.
And suddenly I understood why Denise had spent seven years pretending to be my loving stepmother.
She hadn't needed me gone while my mother was alive.
She'd needed me to grow up, inherit my mother's place in the trust, and become old enough to sign away my rights.
My father reached for the key.
"We're calling the police.""
Sullivan stopped him.
"There's something you need to know before you do that.""
"What?""
"The original death file doesn't just contain evidence about your wife's murder.""
He looked directly at me.
"It contains a document proving that Olivia is the only person legally entitled to control the Carter family trust.""
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
For several seconds, he listened without speaking.
May you like
When he finally lowered the phone, his face had gone gray.
"The warehouse is already burning.""
