Chapter 6: The Man in the Photograph
By the time we returned home, Sarah was gone.
Her car was gone too.
The front door stood open.
I ran inside.
“Sarah!””
Nothing.
Michael checked downstairs while I raced upstairs.
Our bedroom had been torn apart.
Drawers open.
Closet emptied.
The black document box—
Gone.
“No.””
I checked the bathroom.
Nothing.
Then I remembered.
I had put the box in my car before leaving.
I actually leaned against the wall in relief.
“James!””
Michael shouted from downstairs.
I ran down.
He stood in my study.
My computer was on.
A window filled the screen.
*REMOTE SESSION TERMINATED*
“What happened?””
Michael pointed toward the desk.
“She tried to access something.””
I sat.
My financial accounts required two-factor authentication.
My business files were encrypted.
But Sarah knew enough about me to be dangerous.
My phone rang.
Charles.
“I need you at my office.””
“Sarah disappeared.””
“Then call the police if you believe a crime has occurred. But first, there’s something you need to see.””
“What?””
“I found the notary.””
I looked at Michael.
“The one on the ownership agreement?””
“Yes.””
“Who is it?””
“Come here.””
Thirty minutes later, Michael and I entered Charles’s downtown office.
Elaine was already there.
So was a woman I didn’t recognize.
Charles introduced her.
“Rebecca Sloan. Fraud litigation.””
Rebecca shook my hand.
“I’ve reviewed the documents.””
“And?””
“The ownership agreement is almost certainly fraudulent.””
Relief hit me.
But Rebecca didn’t smile.
“That does not mean the situation is simple.””
She placed several pages on the conference table.
“The notary listed on the agreement is named Patricia Bell.””
“Did she notarize it?””
“She says no.””
“So her stamp was forged?””
“Possibly stolen.””
Rebecca slid over a photograph.
Patricia Bell stood outside a coffee shop.
Beside her was Ryan.
I stared at it.
“When was this?””
“Two months ago.””
Elaine leaned forward.
“I took that photograph.””
I looked at her.
“You knew Ryan met the notary?””
“I didn’t know who Patricia was then.””
Charles opened another folder.
“Patricia reported her notary bag stolen from her vehicle that same afternoon.””
Michael swore.
Rebecca continued.
“Her stamp and journal disappeared.””
I rubbed my forehead.
“So Ryan stole it.””
“We cannot conclude that yet.””
“Come on.””
“We can say he was photographed with Patricia shortly before the theft.””
Charles pushed another photograph toward me.
This one made me stop.
Ryan stood beside a black SUV.
Another man was getting out.
The same man from Michael’s storage-unit photograph.
“Who is he?””
Charles didn’t answer immediately.
“His name is David Mercer.””
I looked up.
“Mercer?””
Charles nodded.
“My son.””
Silence swallowed the room.
I stared at Charles.
“You have a son involved in this?””
“Estranged son.””
“You didn’t think to mention that?””
“I didn’t know.””
Charles looked older suddenly.
“David and I haven’t spoken in almost four years.””
“Why?””
“He was an attorney at my firm.””
“Was?””
“He was dismissed.””
“For what?””
Charles looked at the table.
“Misappropriating client funds.””
My chair scraped backward.
“You knew someone in your own family had stolen from clients, and you never thought he might be connected when I told you someone attacked my father’s trust?””
“I had no evidence.””
“You had a name.””
“I had suspicions.””
Rebecca intervened.
“James, right now blame is less important than understanding the structure.””
“No. Blame feels pretty important.””
Michael touched my shoulder.
I shook him off.
Charles removed another document.
“Your father knew David.””
That stopped me.
“What?””
“David handled preliminary trust work years ago.””
“You said you handled Dad’s estate.””
“I did. David assisted with older files.””
“How much did he know?””
Charles didn’t answer quickly enough.
“How much?””
“Enough.””
I stood.
“Enough to know the house wasn’t marital property?””
“Yes.””
“Enough to know what documents someone would need to fake a transfer?””
“Yes.””
“Enough to know about Dad’s trust accounts?””
“Yes.””
My mouth went dry.
Everything suddenly connected.
Sarah had information she shouldn’t possess.
Ryan had history with my father’s company.
David knew the trust.
This wasn’t a wife impulsively trying to steal a house during a divorce.
It was coordinated.
Elaine plugged her flash drive into an isolated laptop.
“I think you should see this.””
Photographs appeared.
Sarah and Ryan entering the motel.
Ryan carrying folders.
David arriving twenty minutes later.
Then another photograph.
Sarah standing beside David in the parking lot.
He had one hand on her shoulder.
Their faces were close.
Michael leaned toward the screen.
“You said you saw no romantic contact between Sarah and Ryan.””
“I didn’t.””
I understood before she said it.
“Because Ryan wasn’t the affair.””
Elaine clicked the next photograph.
Sarah was kissing David.
Not a friendly kiss.
Not ambiguous.
Her arms were around his neck.
Exactly the way she had kissed me goodbye that morning.
My stomach twisted.
Michael whispered, “James…”
I couldn’t speak.
Elaine changed photographs again.
Sarah entering David’s SUV.
Another.
David carrying a box from our garage.
Another.
Ryan watching the street.
They had roles.
Sarah had access.
Ryan provided cover.
David knew the legal machinery.
“How long?”” I asked.
Elaine looked at her notes.
“I documented them together four months ago.””
“That’s when Sarah hired you.””
“Yes.””
I laughed bitterly.
“She hired you to prove I was cheating while she was sleeping with him.””
Rebecca tapped the table.
“It may have been more strategic than that.””
“What does that mean?””
“If she could create evidence of misconduct, financial concealment, or instability, it could strengthen certain arguments during the divorce and distract from irregularities elsewhere.””
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph arrived.
Sarah.
She was sitting inside a car.
Her face was tear-streaked.
Behind her, barely visible, was Ryan.
Then a message:
*James, they lied to me too.*
Another appeared immediately.
*David is not who he says he is.*
I showed the room.
Charles went pale.
My phone rang.
Same number.
I answered.
“Sarah?””
She was crying.
“James, listen carefully.””
“Where are you?””
“I can’t tell you.””
“Where is Ryan?””
“He’s with me.””
“Where’s David?””
Silence.
“Sarah?””
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“He knows you found the storage unit.””
I stood.
“How?””
“Because there was a camera inside.””
Everyone around the table went still.
Sarah continued.
“James, you need to get the black box somewhere safe.””
“It is safe.””
“No, you don’t understand.””
“What’s in it?””
“Your father left something else.””
My chest tightened.
“What?””
“I never knew until today.””
A male voice sounded faintly behind her.
Ryan.
“Sarah, hurry.””
She started crying harder.
“Your father knew someone was stealing from the trust years ago.””
“Who?””
“That’s what David has been trying to erase.””
“Sarah, who was stealing?””
Suddenly I heard tires squeal.
Ryan shouted.
Sarah screamed.
The call filled with movement.
A door slammed.
“Sarah!””
Then I heard a man’s voice.
Calm.
Close to her phone.
“Give it to me.””
David.
Sarah whispered, “No.””
The line went dead.
For two seconds, nobody moved.
Then another message appeared on my screen.
Not from Sarah.
From my home security system.
*FRONT DOOR UNLOCKED — USER: MICHAEL HAWTHORNE*
I slowly turned toward my brother.
Michael was standing beside me.
His face drained white.
“That’s impossible,” he whispered.
My phone buzzed again.
*OFFICE MOTION DETECTED.*
May you like
Someone was inside my house.
Using Michael’s access code.
