Chapter 7: The Man Who Held My Hand at the Funeral
There was only one person I could think of.
My mother's younger brother.
Uncle Richard.
He had been the closest thing to a second father after Dad's marriage to Vanessa. He attended every school event, helped me with college applications, and called me every Sunday.
More importantly, he had been standing beside me at my mother's funeral.
He had held my hand while I cried.
And he'd promised me that nobody would ever take my mother's memory away.
Now I was beginning to wonder whether that promise had been a lie.
"What's wrong, Ethan?"" Dad asked.
I showed him the photograph again.
"The person beside Mom was wearing a wedding ring.""
Dad examined it.
"Richard wears a wedding ring.""
"So do you.""
He looked at me.
"Your uncle Richard's marriage ended twelve years ago. He doesn't wear one anymore.""
"Are you sure?""
Dad didn't answer.
Patricia approached us.
"Who are you thinking about?""
"Richard," I said.
Her expression changed.
"Richard Williams?""
"He's my mother's brother.""
Patricia slowly shook her head.
"That can't be right.""
"Why?""
"Because Richard was listed as being in Birmingham, Alabama, the night Danielle died.""
Dad frowned.
"Who verified that?""
"Daniel provided the information.""
I looked at her.
"So Daniel told everyone where Richard was?""
"Yes.""
Dad stared at the photograph.
"Then someone lied.""
We drove back to Atlanta without stopping.
Dad called Richard three times.
No answer.
He sent two messages.
Nothing.
At 4:30 p.m., Richard finally called back.
"Marcus! What's going on? I saw your missed calls.""
Dad put the phone on speaker.
"Where were you on October fourteenth, three years ago?""
A pause.
"What kind of question is that?""
"Answer me.""
"I was in Birmingham. You know that.""
"Did you see Danielle that night?""
Another pause.
"No. Why?""
I leaned toward the phone.
"Uncle Richard, it's Ethan.""
"Hey, buddy. How are you holding up?""
I felt sick hearing his familiar voice.
"Did you visit Mom the night she died?""
"Of course not.""
"Then why is there a photograph of you standing beside her outside our house?""
Silence.
Then Richard laughed.
"That's ridiculous. Someone's playing games with you.""
Dad interrupted.
"We found your wedding ring in the photograph.""
Richard's voice hardened.
"Marcus, you need to stop listening to whoever is feeding you these stories.""
"Did you meet my wife that night?""
"Your wife?""
"My wife, Richard. Danielle.""
Richard exhaled.
"Listen, brother. I loved Danielle. You know that.""
"Then tell me where you were.""
"I already told you.""
Dad ended the call.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Patricia said something that made my stomach turn.
"There's another possibility.""
I looked at her.
"What?""
"Richard may not have been wearing his own ring.""
She opened her laptop and searched through an old photograph from my mother's wedding.
She enlarged the image.
Dad's wedding ring had a distinctive engraved pattern.
The ring in the crash-scene photograph had the same pattern.
Dad stared.
"That's my ring.""
My mouth went dry.
"You gave it to someone?""
"No.""
Patricia examined the photograph again.
"Then someone may have taken it.""
Dad suddenly remembered something.
"Three days before Danielle died, I lost my ring at the office. I thought I'd misplaced it.""
I stared at him.
"Who had access to your office?""
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Vanessa.
That evening, we went to the police station and reported the threatening messages. Patricia also arranged for the storage-unit evidence to be placed under legal protection.
Before leaving, she received a call.
She listened for nearly a minute.
Then her face became serious.
"Mr. Williams, there's something you need to know.""
Dad stood.
"What?""
"Richard has just contacted my office.""
My stomach tightened.
"What did he say?""
Patricia looked directly at me.
"He wants to meet Ethan alone.""
Dad immediately shook his head.
"Absolutely not.""
"He says he has something that belonged to Danielle.""
I frowned.
"What?""
Patricia hesitated.
"A second death certificate.""
Dad's face drained of color.
"There's only one death certificate.""
"Apparently, there were two.""
I looked at her.
"What does that mean?""
She closed her laptop.
"It means the document you saw in the photograph outside your house may not be the only evidence your mother left behind.""
Then she handed me a note.
It contained an address and a time.
Tomorrow.
8:00 p.m.
At the old house where my mother grew up.
May you like
And beneath the address, Richard had written:
Come alone, Ethan. Before Daniel finds out what I know.
