Nobody spoke while Samuel Price remained on the line.
I put the phone on speaker.
Alvarez moved closer and began signaling to someone outside the room.
Trace.
Price seemed to know.
"Detective Alvarez, your technicians won't find me before I'm finished."
Her expression tightened.
"Where's Brenda?"
"With me."
"Voluntarily?"
Brenda's voice came faintly through the phone.
"I'm fine."
Alive.
At least.
I exhaled.
Price continued.
"Peter thinks I work for him."
"Do you?"
"Sometimes."
"Victor?"
"Sometimes."
"That sounds convenient."
"Survival often does."
Richard looked toward the phone.
"You killed Michael."
Silence.
Then Price said, "No."
Richard's face hardened.
"You were outside the house."
"Yes."
"You threatened him."
"Yes."
"You were paid after he died."
"Yes."
"Then don't insult us."
Price remained calm.
"I didn't kill your father."
"Who did?"
"I don't know."
Richard laughed bitterly.
"Of course."
"I was sent to frighten him."
"By Victor?"
"Yes."
"Peter?"
"No."
That distinction mattered.
"Did Victor order Dad killed?" I asked.
"No."
"You're sure?"
"I heard no such order."
"Then why did he die?"
Price exhaled.
"That's why I'm calling."
My pulse increased.
"Michael believed someone would kill him."
"Yes."
"I believed it too."
"Why?"
"Because Peter had begun acting without Victor's permission."
The room became silent.
Price continued.
"Victor wanted Michael controlled. Peter wanted him gone."
"Why?"
"Michael had proof concerning Emily."
Daniel closed his eyes.
Dad had known more than corporate fraud.
He could expose Peter personally.
"Did Peter send someone to Dad's house?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
Price paused.
"Thomas Keene."
I stared.
"No."
Richard whispered the same word.
Price continued.
"Thomas went there the night before Michael died."
"Thomas was Dad's accountant."
"Yes."
"He was helping him."
"Mostly."
Mostly.
The word cut.
"What aren't you saying?"
"Thomas was compromised."
My stomach tightened.
"By Peter?"
"By debt."
Same pattern.
"Peter paid him?"
"First helped him. Then owned him."
I thought of Thomas's letter.
I became afraid.
Maybe fear hadn't been the whole truth.
"What did Thomas do?"
Price said nothing.
"Samuel."
"He changed Michael's medication."
The room disappeared around me.
I gripped the phone.
"What medication?"
"Michael took a low-dose prescription for occasional arrhythmia."
I hadn't known.
Mom's letter said his cardiac evaluation was healthy.
Healthy didn't mean no medication.
"Thomas replaced some tablets."
"With what?"
"A drug capable of destabilizing cardiac rhythm in the right conditions."
Alvarez spoke sharply.
"Name it."
Price gave one.
She wrote it down.
"How do you know?"
"Because Peter asked me to obtain it."
Richard lunged forward in bed and gasped from pain.
"You gave it to him?"
"Yes."
"So you killed Dad."
"No."
"You supplied the weapon."
Price went quiet.
"Yes."
That admission changed everything.
He might not have administered it.
He had enabled it.
"Did Thomas know what the pills would do?" I asked.
"I don't know."
"Did he replace them?"
"I believe so."
"Believe?"
"I saw him leave Michael's house."
"When?"
"The evening before he died."
"And you did nothing."
"No."
I felt sick.
Every adult in this story had watched the next disaster approach and chosen fear.
Price continued.
"I've lived with that."
"Good for you."
"I didn't call for forgiveness."
"Then why?"
"Because Peter is cleaning the remaining witnesses."
Thomas.
Brenda.
Richard.
Price himself.
"Thomas is dead."
"I know."
"Did Peter kill him?"
"I believe Sloane did."
"Proof?"
"I have communications."
"Send them."
"I will."
"Now."
"After we make an arrangement."
Of course.
"What arrangement?"
"Protection."
Alvarez stepped closer.
"We can discuss surrender."
Price laughed softly.
"I'm not surrendering to local police."
"Then federal."
"Maybe."
"Where?"
"I choose."
Alvarez looked irritated.
I interrupted.
"What does this have to do with Richard lying?"
Price became silent.
Richard's face changed.
There.
Something.
I turned.
"What?"
Richard looked away.
"Richard."
"Not now."
"Now."
Price said, "Ask your brother why Thomas was at Michael's house."
"I know why."
"No."
Richard closed his eyes.
Price continued.
"Ask him who sent Thomas there."
My stomach tightened.
I looked at my brother.
"Who?"
Richard said nothing.
"Richard."
His voice came quietly.
"I did."
The room went still.
I stared.
"You sent Thomas to Dad's house?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To get the evidence."
"What evidence?"
"The Emily file."
Daniel looked up sharply.
"You knew about Emily?"
Richard nodded.
"Some."
"At twenty-six?"
"Dad told me enough."
I could barely process it.
"You told me Dad kept you on the outside."
"He did."
"Not completely."
"No."
"Why send Thomas?"
"Because Dad and I had fought."
"About what?"
"Going public."
Richard looked ashamed.
"I wanted to release everything immediately. Dad wanted to build a case."
"So you sent Thomas behind his back."
"Yes."
"Did you know Thomas was compromised?"
"No."
"Did you know Peter had approached him?"
"No."
"Did Thomas change Dad's pills while he was there because you gave him access?"
Richard's face collapsed.
"I didn't know."
"But he was there because of you."
"Yes."
My anger arrived so fast I had to step away.
Eleven years.
Richard had carried this too.
Not murder.
But guilt.
A decision that opened the door.
"That's why you disappeared."
"Partly."
"You thought you caused Dad's death."
"Yes."
"And you never told me."
"No."
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
"Of course."
"Chloe."
"Stop saying my name like it repairs things."
Richard looked down.
Daniel remained silent.
Good.
Price spoke through the phone.
"Michael knew Richard had sent Thomas."
I turned back.
"What?"
"He found out."
"When?"
"That night."
"Did he blame Richard?"
"No."
Richard looked up.
Price continued.
"Michael called me."
"Why you?"
"Because he knew I had supplied Peter with something."
My stomach turned.
"What did Dad say?"
Price hesitated.
"He said Richard had made a mistake because he was scared."
Richard's eyes filled.
"He said the mistake belonged to the people exploiting fear, not the people trapped inside it."
Nobody spoke.
That sounded like Dad.
It also sounded like exactly what Richard had needed to hear for eleven years.
"Did you tell Richard?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I was a coward."
At least he knew.
"Where is the recording?"
"Safe."
"Play something."
"What?"
"Anything proving you have it."
Static.
Then Dad's voice came through the speaker.
Clearer than the copy Brenda had played.
Victor, Peter is going to get someone killed.
Another voice.
Victor Lang.
I'll handle Peter.
Dad:
You haven't yet.
The clip stopped.
Daniel stared at the phone.
Price said, "Original recording."
Alvarez asked, "What do you want?"
"Federal immunity discussion."
"You won't get immunity for homicide."
"I didn't commit homicide."
"You supplied the substance."
"Then negotiate."
Alvarez's jaw tightened.
"I can't promise anything."
"I know."
"Then why call us?"
"Because Chloe has something Peter needs."
My pulse jumped.
"What?"
"Michael's notebook."
"Peter knows."
"He doesn't know about the last section."
I looked toward my bag.
"What last section?"
Price paused.
"Michael removed pages."
I stared.
"The notebook isn't complete?"
"No."
"Where are they?"
"Richard knows."
I looked at him.
Richard looked genuinely confused.
"I don't."
Price said, "Not consciously."
"What does that mean?"
"Michael hid them somewhere connected to you two."
My frustration sharpened.
"Where?"
"He told me once."
"Tell me."
Price gave a small laugh.
"I forgot for years."
"And now?"
"Your father's phrase reminded me."
"What phrase?"
"Do the work."
My chest tightened.
Price continued.
"Michael said the pages were where his children first learned what work meant."
Richard and I looked at each other.
I knew instantly.
So did he.
Dad's workshop.
Not the house.
The old rented workshop where he repaired furniture on weekends.
He had taught Richard welding there.
He had taught me bookkeeping there, paying me five dollars an hour to record materials and customer payments.
The building still existed.
I had driven past it years ago.
"Where is it?" Alvarez asked.
I didn't answer.
Price said, "Peter will figure it out eventually."
"Why?"
"Because Victor knew about the workshop."
My heart accelerated.
"Does Peter have Victor's records?"
"Most."
"Then we need to move."
"Yes."
"Where are you?"
Price ignored that.
"One more thing."
"What?"
"Don't take Daniel."
Daniel stiffened.
"Why does everyone say that?"
Price answered calmly.
"Because the missing pages are about Sterling."
Daniel stared.
"About my company?"
"No."
Price's voice lowered.
"About you."
The call ended.
Alvarez immediately turned to her team.
"Trace?"
An officer shook his head.
Too short.
Too layered.
Nothing useful.
I looked at Daniel.
His expression was unreadable.
"You stay here."
"No."
"Samuel said—"
"I don't care what Samuel said."
"I do."
"Chloe."
"Whatever Dad hid was hidden from you deliberately."
"Eleven years ago."
"Until I know why, that matters."
Daniel looked hurt.
I hated that I noticed.
But trust could not be awarded because someone looked wounded by its absence.
Richard spoke from the bed.
"She's right."
Daniel looked at him.
"Easy for you to say."
"No."
Richard's voice was tired.
"I lied to her for eleven years."
He looked at me.
"She's right not to trust any of us."
That was perhaps the most honest thing he'd said.
Alvarez arranged transport.
Before leaving, I opened Mom's second letter.
I had almost forgotten it.
Only four lines.
Chloe,
Richard carries something he believes I never forgave.
Tell him I did.
And tell him Michael would have too.
Love,
Mom
I looked at my brother.
He saw my face.
"What?"
I handed him the letter.
He read it.
Once.
Again.
Then pressed it against his chest and turned his face toward the window.
I left without saying anything.
Some moments did not improve when filled with words.
Outside, Alvarez waited beside an unmarked car.
"Workshop?"
I nodded.
"We go quietly."
"Yes."
"No Sterling."
"Yes."
"No Marcus."
"Yes."
"No improvising."
I looked at her.
"Two out of three."
She sighed.
We drove toward the place where Dad had taught Richard to weld and me to balance a ledger.
Behind one wall, somewhere in a building I hadn't entered since childhood, might be the pages Peter Vale was willing to kill to find.
And according to Samuel Price, they weren't about my father.
They were about Daniel.
Click here to continue reading: PART 16: The Pages Hidden in My Father’s Workshop Revealed Why Daniel Was Chosen, and Peter Vale Was Already Waiting Outside
Six Hours Before the Biggest Presentation of My Career, Human Resources Called and Told Me Not to Come In
Part 15 of 43
