Chapter 8: Richard Cole Was Never Dead
Daniel moved toward the front entrance.
“Stay behind me.””
Dad stood beside him.
I followed, my heart pounding.
The doorbell rang again.
Then a man's voice came through the intercom.
“Marcus. It's Richard.””
Dad gripped the door handle.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he opened it.
The man standing outside looked older than the photograph.
His hair had turned gray around the temples, and the scar across his eyebrow was more pronounced.
But it was unmistakably Richard Cole.
Dad stared at him.
“Where the hell have you been?””
Richard glanced over his shoulder.
“Somewhere I could stay alive.””
“You disappeared for seven years!””
“I know.””
“You let us believe you were dead!””
Richard lowered his eyes.
“I didn't have a choice.””
Dad stepped forward.
“You were my best friend.””
“And Danielle was my friend too.””
That stopped my father.
Richard looked past him and saw me.
“Ethan?””
I nodded.
He studied my face.
“You look exactly like your mother.””
I swallowed.
“Did you know her?””
Richard gave a sad smile.
“I knew her better than most people.””
Dad stepped aside.
“Come inside.””
Richard entered and placed a small leather bag on the table.
Daniel introduced himself.
“I'm Daniel Price. I'm assisting with the financial investigation.””
Richard nodded.
“I expected someone from the bank would eventually get involved.””
Dad crossed his arms.
“Start talking.””
Richard took a breath.
“Seven years ago, Danielle discovered that approximately $1.8 million had been transferred out of one of our development accounts. The transactions were disguised as construction expenses.””
Dad nodded.
“I remember.””
“She found three invoices that didn't match any actual work. Each one was approved using your digital authorization.””
Dad frowned.
“I approved hundreds of invoices.””
“I know. That's why someone used your credentials.””
“Who?””
Richard looked directly at him.
“Vanessa.””
Dad shook his head.
“No. She wasn't involved in the company then.””
“She didn't need to be. She had access to your computer, your passwords, and your personal documents.””
Daniel opened his notebook.
“Do you have evidence?””
Richard reached into his bag.
He removed a small flash drive.
“Everything I recovered is here. The original invoices, transfer records, and correspondence.””
Dad stared at it.
“Why didn't you come forward?””
Richard looked down.
“Because I was threatened.””
“By Vanessa?””
“Not initially.””
He glanced toward the window.
“Someone else was involved. Someone who had been working with us for years.””
Dad shook his head.
“Who?””
Richard didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he turned toward me.
“Ethan, your mother asked me to protect you. She believed someone would eventually come after the trust.””
“Why?””
“Because she discovered that the theft was connected to a much larger fraud.””
Daniel leaned forward.
“What kind of fraud?””
Richard placed another document on the table.
“A network of shell companies was being used to purchase properties with stolen money. Your mother's trust was supposed to be the final target.””
Dad picked up the paper.
One company name appeared repeatedly.
Northstar Holdings.
The same company Vanessa had used to receive the money from the attempted property sale.
“Was Vanessa running it?”” Dad asked.
Richard shook his head.
“No. She was one of the people handling the transactions.””
“Who was in charge?””
Richard looked at him.
“That's what I never managed to prove.””
He removed a second photograph from his bag.
This one showed Vanessa standing outside a hotel with two men.
One was Richard.
The other was someone I recognized immediately.
My father.
Dad stared at the picture.
“When was this taken?””
“Six months before Danielle died.””
I looked between them.
“Dad, you told me you never met Richard after Mom died.””
“I didn't.””
Richard spoke quietly.
“You met me before she died, Marcus. You just don't remember.””
Dad looked confused.
“What are you talking about?””
Richard explained.
“You came to the hotel with Vanessa. You were carrying a folder. You told us you had discovered unusual transactions and wanted them investigated.””
Dad slowly sat down.
“I don't remember that.””
“You were exhausted. You'd been working eighteen-hour days. Vanessa said she'd take care of the paperwork.””
Dad stared at the photograph.
Then he whispered:
“She told me that meeting was with a property investor.””
Richard nodded.
“That's what she wanted you to believe.””
I looked at the picture again.
My father was standing beside Richard, holding a folder.
But Vanessa was looking directly at the camera.
And she was smiling.
“Why would she take this picture?”” I asked.
Richard's expression darkened.
“Because she needed proof that Marcus had met with me.””
“For what?””
“To make it look like your father was involved in the missing money.””
Dad stood abruptly.
“You're saying she was setting me up?””
Richard nodded.
“She wanted you to become the person responsible for the fraud while she moved the money.””
Daniel examined the photograph.
“Do you have anything connecting her directly to the transfers?””
Richard opened the leather bag again.
“I have bank records and a recorded conversation.””
He placed a small digital recorder on the table.
“Danielle made this recording two days before she died.””
Dad stared at it.
“What's on it?””
Richard pressed play.
At first, there was only static.
Then my mother's voice emerged.
“Richard, I found the second account.””
A man's voice answered.
“Are you sure?””
“Absolutely. The money isn't just disappearing. Someone is using Marcus's signature to move it.””
Then another voice interrupted.
A woman's voice.
Calm.
Familiar.
Vanessa.
“Danielle, you should have left this alone.””
My father stood frozen.
My mother's voice became sharper.
“Why are you doing this?””
Vanessa laughed softly.
“Because you made the mistake of trusting the wrong person.””
The recording crackled.
Then Danielle whispered something that made Richard close his eyes.
“Marcus doesn't know, does he?””
Vanessa answered:
“Marcus knows exactly what I want him to know.””
Dad stumbled backward.
Richard stopped the recording.
Nobody spoke.
Then I noticed something strange.
The recording had ended before my mother said anything about her death.
“Richard,” I asked, “is there more?””
He nodded.
“But I don't have the original recording.””
“Where is it?””
Richard looked toward the staircase.
“Danielle hid it somewhere in this house.””
Dad frowned.
“How would you know?””
“Because she told me where to find it.””
“Where?””
Richard looked at me.
“Your mother's old bedroom.””
My throat tightened.
That room had been locked since the week she died.
May you like
Dad still kept the key.
And suddenly, he was reaching for it.
