Chapter 4: The Envelope Hidden Behind the Wall
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Vanessa stood beneath the porch light, staring at me as if she'd accidentally revealed something she could never take back.
My father's desk was in his study, a room I'd barely entered since his death. It smelled of old books, cedarwood, and the peppermint candies he kept in a glass bowl beside his reading lamp.
If there was another envelope hidden in that room, I needed to find it.
"What was in the envelope, Vanessa?"" I asked.
She folded her arms.
"I told you. It was a letter from his lawyer.""
"Then why did you tell me I'd wish I'd never opened it?""
"Because you're making accusations without understanding the situation.""
Detective Brooks stepped between us.
"Mrs. Walker, I'd like you to stop making threats and answer the questions being asked.""
"I didn't threaten anyone!""
"You told your husband's daughter she would regret discovering a document you allegedly have no knowledge of.""
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
"You're twisting my words.""
Madison stood near the doorway, clutching her elbows.
"Mom, please. Just tell them what happened.""
Vanessa turned on her daughter.
"You have already said too much.""
Madison recoiled.
I had seen that look before. When we were teenagers, Vanessa would speak to Madison in the same sharp tone whenever she made a mistake. Madison would immediately apologize, even when she'd done nothing wrong.
But this time, she didn't apologize.
She looked directly at Detective Brooks.
"I'll show you where the envelope was.""
Vanessa grabbed her arm.
"You're not going upstairs.""
"Let go of me!""
Madison pulled free and hurried inside.
Vanessa followed, shouting her name.
Detective Brooks stopped them both at the entrance.
"Nobody searches anything until we establish what can be done lawfully. Madison, you can show us the location, but we'll handle the next steps properly.""
Madison nodded, wiping her cheeks.
Mr. Harrison turned to me.
"Emily, do you have access to your father's study?""
"I used to. He kept the key in his desk drawer.""
"Do you know whether anyone else had access?""
I looked toward Vanessa.
"She had a key to every room.""
His expression grew serious.
"Then we need to be careful.""
We entered the house together.
The familiar scent hit me first. My father's aftershave still lingered faintly in the hallway. His reading glasses sat on the small table beside the staircase, exactly where he'd left them the last time he'd come downstairs.
I stopped beside them.
For one painful second, I could almost hear him calling my name from the kitchen.
Then I remembered the suitcase outside.
I kept walking.
The study door stood open. Inside, the curtains were drawn, and the afternoon light fell across Dad's massive oak desk.
Madison pointed toward it.
"The envelope was in the bottom drawer. Mom took it out while Dad was in the hospital.""
Detective Brooks examined the desk without touching anything.
"Did you see what was written on it?""
Madison shook her head.
"No. But I remember Dad's handwriting on the front.""
My stomach tightened.
"What did Mom do with it?""
"I don't know. She told me to forget I'd seen it.""
Vanessa appeared in the doorway.
"Because it was private!""
Mr. Harrison turned toward her.
"Private documents do not become yours simply because your husband dies.""
She laughed bitterly.
"You keep saying that as if Michael was some stranger I met yesterday. I was there for fifteen years. I knew everything about him.""
"Then you should have no difficulty explaining the financial transactions he was concerned about.""
Vanessa's face flushed.
"I am done answering questions.""
She walked toward the desk and pulled open the bottom drawer.
It was empty except for a few envelopes and a leather notebook.
"See?"" she said.
"There's nothing here.""
I stared at the drawer.
Dad never left it empty. He kept spare pens, old photographs, and important papers inside. He'd once spent twenty minutes searching for a receipt he'd put there himself.
"Where are his files?"" I asked.
Vanessa shut the drawer.
"What files?""
"The blue folders he kept here. His insurance documents, his investment statements, the paperwork for the house.""
"I reorganized things.""
"Where did you put them?""
"Somewhere safe.""
"Where?""
Her eyes narrowed.
"Emily, you need to stop behaving like a child who thinks everything belongs to her.""
I stepped closer.
"They belonged to my father.""
"And he's dead!""
The words exploded through the room.
Silence followed.
Vanessa seemed almost surprised she'd said them aloud. But she didn't apologize.
Instead, she looked at me with cold impatience.
"Michael is dead. He can't tell you what he wanted anymore. Someone has to make decisions, and that someone is me.""
Mr. Harrison closed his briefcase.
"No, Mrs. Walker. That is precisely why he made legal arrangements before his death.""
Detective Brooks asked Madison whether she had seen anyone remove the blue folders.
Madison hesitated.
"Yes.""
Vanessa turned sharply.
"Madison!""
Her daughter swallowed.
"I saw Mom carrying them to the garage the night Dad died.""
I felt my pulse quicken.
"The night he died?""
Madison nodded.
"She said she was clearing the house because she couldn't stand looking at his things.""
Vanessa stepped toward her.
"That is not what happened.""
"Then what happened?"" I demanded.
She ignored me.
Detective Brooks took out his notebook.
"Mrs. Walker, did you remove financial documents from this study?""
"I moved personal belongings.""
"Where are they now?""
"I don't remember.""
He looked at her for a long moment.
"That's unfortunate.""
Then he turned to Mr. Harrison.
"I recommend that we secure the relevant records and establish whether any documents have been removed or destroyed.""
Vanessa's expression changed.
"You wouldn't dare.""
"We will follow the proper legal process.""
Madison suddenly pointed toward the wall behind the desk.
"There's something else.""
We all turned.
She walked to the wooden bookcase and crouched beside the bottom shelf.
"When Mom took the envelope, I came back later. I thought Dad might have left something else for Emily.""
She reached behind a row of thick encyclopedias and pulled out a small brass key.
I recognized it immediately.
It belonged to the narrow cabinet built into the wall beside Dad's desk.
He'd kept that cabinet locked for as long as I could remember.
"How did you know about that?"" I asked.
Madison looked ashamed.
"I saw Dad open it once. He told me it contained documents that were important to the family.""
Vanessa lunged forward.
"Give me that key!""
Madison stepped back.
"No.""
For the first time, I saw something like genuine fear in Vanessa's eyes.
Detective Brooks raised his hand.
"Mrs. Walker, stay where you are.""
Madison handed the key to me.
My fingers trembled as I approached the cabinet.
The lock turned with a soft click.
Inside were several folders, a small digital recorder, and a sealed envelope bearing my father's handwriting.
But the envelope wasn't the only thing that caught my attention.
On top of the folders lay a photograph of the same man who'd been standing outside the bank with Vanessa.
This time, he wasn't wearing a suit.
He was standing in our living room, shaking my father's hand.
And behind them, clearly visible on the wall, was a calendar marked with a date six months before Dad's death.
I turned the photograph over.
Dad had written seven words on the back.
*The man Vanessa introduced as her brother.*
Vanessa suddenly backed into the hallway.
May you like
Mr. Harrison stared at the photograph.
Then he whispered, "Emily, your stepmother doesn't have a brother.""
