Chapter 8: The Man Who Never Died
I read my father's letter again.
The handwriting was steady.
The words were unmistakably his.
But one sentence kept repeating inside my head.
Your daughter is in danger because of something I did.
I had buried my father five years earlier.
I remembered standing beside his grave in the rain, listening to the pastor speak about loyalty, sacrifice, and family.
Jonathan had stood beside me.
He had held my shoulder and promised I would never face anything alone.
Now I knew he had possibly helped arrange my father's death.
"Officer Harris," I said, "I want to see the original death certificate.""
She looked at me.
"Your father's?""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"Because if Jonathan could fake Danielle's death, he could have done the same thing to my father.""
Danielle nodded slowly.
"That's what I believe.""
Officer Harris contacted the investigation team.
While we waited, she arranged for Lily's photograph and the threatening messages to be circulated to nearby officers.
Then she asked Danielle to explain the Swiss bank account.
"My father established it before he died," Danielle said.
"He placed several investment accounts into a protected trust for Lily.""
"Why Switzerland?"" I asked.
"Because he discovered that Jonathan and your father were moving money through American shell companies.""
I frowned.
"My father and Jonathan were business partners?""
Danielle nodded.
"Not officially. But they were working together.""
I sat down.
My father had always warned me never to mix friendship with business.
Yet he had apparently done exactly that.
And my best friend had continued the arrangement after his death.
Officer Harris returned with a file.
"There's something unusual about your father's death certificate.""
I opened it.
The document listed a heart attack as the cause of death.
But the attending physician's signature was not from our family doctor.
It belonged to Dr. Richard Collins.
I looked up.
"Collins signed my father's death certificate too?""
Officer Harris nodded.
"And there's no corresponding hospital admission record.""
My hands began shaking.
"Where did he die?""
"According to the official report, at his residence.""
"Who found him?""
"Jonathan Reed.""
Danielle closed her eyes.
"Of course.""
I stood.
"Then we need to find Jonathan before he disappears.""
Officer Harris received another message.
The black SUV had been located.
It was abandoned in a parking lot near an old warehouse.
No Lily.
No Jonathan.
No Emily Foster.
But investigators had recovered something from the rear seat.
A small pink ribbon.
I recognized it immediately.
It belonged to Lily's hair.
I felt my throat close.
"Where is my daughter?""
Officer Harris looked at me.
"We're expanding the search.""
Danielle picked up the ribbon.
She pressed it against her chest.
"Michael, Jonathan is going to use the old clinic.""
"How do you know?""
"Because he sent me there once.""
She explained that during her captivity, Jonathan had visited the clinic several times. He always used the same underground entrance.
He had told her that the building contained records no one else could access.
"Did you ever see your father there?"" I asked.
Danielle hesitated.
Then she nodded.
"Once.""
I stared at her.
"You saw my father?""
"Yes. About a month before he supposedly died.""
My heart pounded.
"What did he look like?""
"Exactly as he did when you last saw him.""
"Then he was alive.""
Danielle nodded.
"He told me he wanted to help me escape. But Jonathan arrived before we could leave.""
I grabbed the edge of the table.
"What happened?""
"Your father told me to take the documents and run. He stayed behind.""
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
"Because Jonathan showed me a video afterward.""
She looked away.
"It showed your father lying on the floor. He told me that if I ever contacted you, the same thing would happen to Lily.""
I closed my eyes.
My father had tried to save Danielle.
And I had spent years believing he had died peacefully.
Officer Harris interrupted.
"Mr. Carter, we have a development.""
She showed us a newly recovered security recording from the warehouse parking lot.
The footage showed Jonathan entering the building alone.
He emerged twelve minutes later.
But he wasn't alone.
A second man followed him.
The camera caught the man's face.
I stepped closer.
My breath stopped.
It was my father.
Alive.
Older, thinner, and walking with a cane.
But unmistakably my father.
Danielle began crying.
"I told you.""
Officer Harris immediately enlarged the image.
"Can you identify the date?""
"Yesterday," she replied.
Yesterday.
My father had been alive yesterday.
Then my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?""
A familiar voice spoke.
"Michael, my boy.""
I nearly dropped the phone.
"Dad?""
"Don't trust the police.""
I stared at Danielle.
My father continued.
"I know where Lily is. But if you want to see her again, you must come to me alone.""
"Where are you?""
"At the old clinic.""
I swallowed.
"Why did you let me believe you were dead?""
There was a long silence.
Then he answered.
"Because your son—"
He stopped.
I frowned.
"My what?""
The call disconnected.
I stared at the screen.
Then I looked at Danielle.
We had only one child.
May you like
Lily.
So why had my father just called someone my son?
