Chapter 7: The Man Wearing My Father's Watch
“Dad, why are you wearing the same watch as the man in this photograph?””
My father didn't answer.
He stared at the picture in my hands, his face drained of color.
Daniel Price stepped closer.
“Mr. Williams, may I see that?””
I handed him the photograph.
He examined the reflection in the restaurant window, then turned it toward the light.
“Interesting,” he murmured.
Dad rubbed his forehead.
“That's my watch. I've owned it for almost fifteen years.””
“Was it ever missing?”” I asked.
“No.””
“Did you lend it to Richard?””
Dad shook his head.
“Richard had his own.””
Daniel pointed toward the reflection.
“The watch might not prove who was sitting at that table. But it gives us something to investigate.””
Dad suddenly stood.
“I need to call Robert.””
He dialed the number.
Robert answered almost immediately.
“Marcus?””
“Richard Cole. I need to know everything you can tell me about him.””
“Why?””
“Ethan found a photograph of Danielle and Richard. There's a reflection in the window showing someone wearing my watch.””
Silence.
Then Robert said something that made my father grip the phone.
“Marcus, you need to understand that Richard wasn't missing when Danielle died.””
Dad froze.
“What?””
“He contacted me three weeks after her funeral.””
I looked at my father.
“What did he say?””
Robert continued.
“He told me he was afraid to return home because someone had threatened him.””
“Who threatened him?”” Dad demanded.
“He wouldn't give me a name. He only said the person responsible knew about Danielle's investigation.””
My father paced across the living room.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because Richard specifically asked me not to. He believed you were being watched.””
Dad stopped.
“Watched by whom?””
Robert hesitated.
“Marcus, I need to ask you something. Did you ever tell Danielle about the $1.8 million missing from the development project?””
“Yes. I thought we'd resolved it.””
“Did you tell her who approved the transfers?””
Dad looked confused.
“I signed the project authorizations. Richard handled the accounting.””
“And who had access to your digital signature?””
Dad's face changed.
“Vanessa.””
The answer came out almost like a whisper.
I remembered all the envelopes she'd carried into his office.
All the documents she'd placed in front of him.
All the times she'd insisted he sign quickly because he had a meeting.
Daniel took out a notebook.
“Mr. Williams, when did your wife first gain access to your business accounts?””
“About four years ago.””
“Was that before or after the missing funds were discovered?””
Dad closed his eyes.
“Before.””
Robert interrupted.
“Marcus, there's something else. Richard sent me a message two years ago. He claimed he had located the original recipient of the missing funds.””
“Who?””
“I never received the name. He said he wanted to meet Danielle's family first.””
My stomach tightened.
“But Mom was already dead.””
“Exactly.””
Dad lowered himself onto the sofa.
“Then why would he want to meet us?””
Robert answered quietly.
“Because he believed someone had used Danielle's death to conceal the theft.””
I couldn't breathe properly.
For seven years, I had carried the memory of my mother collapsing in our kitchen.
The ambulance.
The flashing lights.
The hospital corridor.
My father holding my shoulders while telling me she was gone.
Now every memory felt different.
“Robert,” I said, “did my mother leave anything else for me?””
“Yes.””
“What?””
“A personal recording. She made it shortly before she died.””
Dad looked up.
“What recording?””
“An audio file. Danielle instructed me to release it only after Ethan turned eighteen.””
My heart hammered.
“Can we hear it?””
“I'll bring everything tomorrow morning.””
The call ended.
Daniel closed his notebook.
“Mr. Williams, I recommend that neither of you discuss these findings with Vanessa until we establish exactly what happened.””
Dad nodded.
Then he looked at me.
“Ethan, go upstairs and get some rest.””
I almost laughed.
“Dad, how am I supposed to sleep?””
He didn't have an answer.
I went upstairs anyway.
My bedroom looked exactly as it had that morning.
The cracked phone charger on my desk.
The college brochures beside my laptop.
The framed photograph of Mom near the window.
I sat on the edge of my bed and picked up the silver bracelet she had given me.
Inside was a tiny engraving.
Always trust what you know in your heart.
My phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
*You need to stop asking questions about Richard Cole.*
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
*Your mother made the same mistake.*
My fingers went cold.
I rushed downstairs.
Dad was in his office, speaking to Daniel.
“Dad!””
He turned.
I showed him the messages.
Daniel immediately photographed the screen.
“Don't respond,” he said.
Dad grabbed his jacket.
“I'm calling the police.””
Before he could move, another message arrived.
This one contained a photograph.
It showed the front entrance of our house.
Taken less than a minute earlier.
Someone was standing outside the gate.
A man in a dark coat.
I zoomed in.
The man's face was partially hidden beneath the brim of his cap.
But I recognized something.
A scar running from his left eyebrow toward his cheek.
I had seen that scar before.
In my mother's photograph.
I looked at Dad.
May you like
“That's Richard.””
And then the doorbell rang.
