Chapter 9: What Rachel Hid
I ran across the backyard.
Michael was directly behind me.
The grass was wet from overnight rain, and my shoes nearly slipped beneath me.
The treehouse looked smaller than I remembered.
But seeing it brought everything back.
Rachel laughing while I struggled with the roof.
Ethan carrying plastic tools.
Lily asleep in a baby carrier against Rachel’s chest.
A life before everything shattered.
Now the yellow door hung broken.
“Daniel!”” I shouted.
No answer.
Michael pointed toward the ground.
“Tracks.””
Fresh footprints cut through the mud.
One set led toward the treehouse.
Another led away.
“He was here,” Michael said.
I climbed the ladder.
Inside, everything had been torn apart.
Old wooden shelves had been ripped from the walls.
Floorboards were scratched.
A small storage bench had been overturned.
But something bothered me.
If Daniel had found what he wanted, why destroy everything?
“He didn’t find it,” I said.
Michael climbed inside.
“How do you know?””
“Because Rachel said Ethan knew the place.””
I looked around.
Think like a four-year-old.
Not an adult.
What would Ethan remember?
Monsters couldn’t follow us because Daddy built the door himself.
I stared at the broken yellow door.
“The door.””
Michael frowned.
“What?””
I knelt beside it.
Years earlier, I had built that door from two layers of plywood because Ethan kept slamming it.
Between those layers was a narrow hollow space.
My hands started shaking.
“Help me.””
We pulled the door inside.
I took the brass key from Rachel’s envelope.
Near the bottom edge was a tiny metal plate covered by yellow paint.
I scraped it with my thumbnail.
A keyhole appeared.
Michael stared.
“You built that?””
“No.””
Which meant Rachel had modified it later.
I inserted the key.
Click.
A narrow compartment opened.
Inside was a plastic waterproof pouch.
Michael whispered, “She did it.””
I pulled it out.
There was a flash drive.
Several documents.
And a small digital recorder.
My hands trembled.
“What was she involved in?””
Michael looked over my shoulder.
“Maybe we’re about to find out.””
We returned to the car.
I plugged the flash drive into my laptop.
There were dozens of files.
Bank statements.
Contracts.
Scanned signatures.
Photographs.
Then I saw Daniel Parker’s name.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Michael leaned closer.
“These are transfers.””
I opened one.
$48,000.
Another.
$73,500.
Another.
$112,000.
All transferred between companies I had never heard of.
“What did Rachel discover?””
Michael pointed toward one document.
“Look at the authorization.””
I opened it.
The signature at the bottom belonged to someone named Rebecca Collins.
Michael went silent.
“What?””
He stared at the name.
“Rachel’s maiden name was Collins.””
“Yes.””
“Rebecca was her sister.””
I looked at him.
Rachel had rarely spoken about Rebecca.
They had been estranged long before I met Rachel.
“Why is her signature here?””
“I don’t know.””
I opened another file.
Then another.
Rebecca’s name appeared repeatedly.
Daniel’s too.
But one folder was labeled:
*VANESSA*
I opened it.
Inside were screenshots of old emails.
The earliest was dated nearly eight years ago.
Vanessa and Daniel had known each other much longer than she admitted.
Michael read over my shoulder.
“Daniel tells her what accounts to open.””
Another email showed Vanessa asking when she would receive her share.
My stomach turned.
“She was involved.””
Michael nodded.
“At least according to these records.””
Then I found an audio file.
The date was two weeks before Rachel died.
I clicked it.
Static.
Then Rachel’s voice.
My eyes immediately filled with tears.
“I’m recording this because Daniel threatened me again.””
Michael and I looked at each other.
Rachel continued.
“He knows I copied the records. He believes I gave them to the police. I haven’t yet because I’m afraid of what he’ll do.””
A man’s voice appeared faintly in the background of the recording.
Daniel.
“You should have stayed out of this.””
Rachel answered.
“You used my sister.””
Daniel laughed.
“Rebecca knew what she was doing.””
Then another voice spoke.
A woman.
I couldn’t make out the words.
Michael leaned toward the speaker.
“Play it again.””
I did.
The woman’s voice was faint.
But familiar.
Too familiar.
“No,” I whispered.
Michael looked at me.
“You recognize her?””
I played it a third time.
This time there was no doubt.
Vanessa.
Rachel had known Vanessa before I ever met her.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Michael looked at me.
“Don’t answer.””
I did.
“Hello?””
Silence.
Then a man spoke.
“You found the drive.””
My blood turned cold.
“Daniel?””
He laughed quietly.
“Rachel always did trust the wrong people.””
“Stay away from my family.””
“That depends.””
“On what?””
“Whether you want your children to learn what their mother really did.””
I stood beside the car, gripping the phone.
“You don’t get to say her name.””
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“You think Rachel was collecting evidence against me?””
“Yes.””
Another quiet laugh.
“No.””
My stomach tightened.
“Then what was she doing?””
“You’re looking at half the story.””
I glanced at Michael.
Daniel continued.
“Open the folder marked R.C.””
I searched the drive.
There it was.
R.C.
I clicked.
Inside was a scanned document.
At the top were Rachel’s full name and signature.
Below them was a list of financial transfers.
And at the bottom was one sentence that made my heart stop.
*Authorized participant: Rachel Collins.*
“No,” I whispered.
Daniel spoke into the silence.
“Your wife wasn’t investigating us.””
May you like
A pause.
“She was one of us.””
