Thomas Reed had worked for Victor for as long as I could remember.
He was the man who brought documents into meetings without being asked.
The man who knew how I took my coffee.
The man who called every December to confirm the mailing address for charitable statements.
He had never seemed important enough to remember.
That, I realized, had probably been the point.
Detective Harris handed the passport to a technician.
“You’re certain this is Reed?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you known him?”
“Since I was twenty.”
“And Rachel?”
“I’ve never seen them together.”
“Does she know him?”
“I don’t know.”
We called the hospital.
Rachel was awake.
Harris put the phone on speaker after receiving permission from the nurse.
“Rachel, do you know Thomas Reed?”
Silence.
“Rachel?”
Her voice came quietly.
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Who is he?”
Another pause.
Then she said, “Evan.”
The answer still struck harder than I expected.
“Your brother is alive.”
“Yes.”
“You buried someone.”
“I buried who I thought was Evan.”
“When did you learn?”
“Four months ago.”
Four months.
Before her strange visit.
Before Daniel disappeared.
Before the financial attacks.
“Who told you?”
“Michael.”
The brothers.
One living openly under a false identity.
One supposedly dead and working beside Victor.
No wonder every trail led in two directions.
“Why didn’t you tell police?” Harris asked.
“Because I didn’t know whether Evan was victim or accomplice.”
“What does that mean?”
Rachel exhaled.
“After the boating accident, I believed he was dead. Michael disappeared soon afterward. We barely spoke for years. Then Michael contacted me four months ago and said Evan had survived.”
“How?”
“He said the body found after the accident wasn’t Evan.”
“We know that.”
“He said Victor arranged the identification.”
“Why?”
“To make Evan disappear.”
I leaned toward the phone.
“Disappear where?”
“Into Victor’s office.”
The simplicity of it was nauseating.
Victor had not hidden a man far away.
He had hidden him in plain sight.
Thomas Reed.
Quiet.
Useful.
Present.
“Why would Evan agree?”
“He was investigating Victor.”
“By becoming his assistant for seven years?”
“He thought Victor had something to do with our mother’s agreement.”
Harris asked, “Did he also suspect Victor in the boating accident?”
“At first, no.”
“What changed?”
“Evan eventually learned the boat had been sabotaged.”
The ledger notation.
Vehicle unacceptable. Necessary intervention completed.
“Who sabotaged it?”
“He believed someone working for Victor.”
“Why survive and then work for the man who tried to kill him?”
Rachel’s voice became tired.
“Because Evan was never normal after our father died.”
“Our father?” I said.
She corrected herself immediately.
“Sorry. My stepfather. The man who raised us.”
The correction mattered.
Everything did now.
“He believed he could solve things by getting closer to dangerous people,” Rachel continued. “Michael thought he was insane. I did too.”
“What did Victor believe happened to Evan?”
“I don’t know.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if Victor wasn’t the one who ordered the accident.”
Harris and I looked at each other.
The evidence against Victor suddenly shifted again.
“What did Evan think?” I asked.
“That someone else inside your father’s business wanted him dead.”
“Who?”
“He wouldn’t tell Michael.”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t trust Michael either.”
Family appeared to be a contagious disease.
Harris asked whether Rachel had spoken directly to Evan since learning he was alive.
“Once.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
“Where?”
“He came to my apartment.”
“What did he say?”
“That Daniel was in trouble.”
I gripped the table.
“What kind?”
“He said Daniel had been taking money from Victor.”
“We found payments.”
“It wasn’t only Victor.”
“What do you mean?”
“Daniel was selling information twice.”
I stared at the phone.
“To whom?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
Harris wrote something.
“Did he explain what information?”
“Claire’s finances. Estate structure. Property. Insurance.”
“Why would anyone besides Victor want that?”
“I don’t know.”
I did.
Or thought I did.
“Because of the family settlement.”
Harris looked at me.
If my father’s hidden settlement had tied Rachel’s existence to business assets, anyone controlling those assets could have reason to prevent her claim.
“How much was the company worth when my father died?”
“Claire—”
“Harris.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do.”
I had inherited a controlling interest and later sold much of it.
“At his death, approximately forty million.”
The detective stopped writing.
“What portion could the settlement affect?”
“I don’t know.”
Rachel answered through the speaker.
“My mother thought twenty percent.”
Eight million at the time.
Potentially far more after appreciation, sales, and reinvestment.
Enough to ruin reputations.
Enough to expose fraud.
Enough, apparently, to produce bodies.
“When Daniel learned about the settlement,” Rachel said, “he started asking questions.”
“He already knew Victor.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I think Victor approached him.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
The payments supported it.
“But Daniel was also talking to Evan.”
I froze.
“My husband knew your supposedly dead brother?”
“Yes.”
“As Thomas Reed?”
“At first.”
“Later?”
“He learned the truth.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
Again that date.
Two years ago, Daniel discovered Rachel was my sister.
Two years ago, he learned Thomas was Evan.
Two years ago, Michael’s company received three hundred thousand dollars.
Something had converged.
“What happened two years ago?”
Rachel went silent.
“Rachel.”
“I don’t know all of it.”
“Tell me what you know.”
“Daniel found a copy of the family settlement.”
“Where?”
“Victor’s office.”
“What was he doing there?”
“Meeting about your estate.”
“Without me?”
“Yes.”
Anger rose behind my ribs.
“How often did my husband discuss my estate with Victor without me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Once? Ten times?”
“I don’t know, Claire.”
The nurse interrupted through the line.
Rachel needed to stop.
Before Harris ended the call, I asked one last question.
“Why did you warn me yesterday?”
Her voice softened.
“Because Evan called me Thursday night.”
“What did he say?”
“That Daniel had agreed to help someone take control of your assets.”
“Victor?”
“No.”
My pulse quickened.
“Who?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“Then what did he tell you?”
“That if Daniel left town, I had twenty-four hours to get you somewhere safe.”
Daniel had left the next morning.
Rachel had come to my house that afternoon.
She had tried to find him.
Then warned me.
She had not gone there to betray me.
She had gone there because she believed I was in danger.
“What happened after you left my house?”
“I got a message from Daniel.”
“What did it say?”
“That he wanted to meet.”
“Where?”
“The blue house.”
“And you went?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought he was finally going to tell me who was behind it.”
“Instead?”
“Michael was there.”
“And Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Everything went wrong.”
The line became quiet.
“What does that mean?”
“Michael thought Daniel had betrayed him. Daniel thought Michael had betrayed him. Then someone shut off the power.”
I remembered the blue house.
The lights.
The gunshot.
“This happened yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Before the hostage photographs?”
“Yes.”
“So who tied you up?”
Rachel breathed slowly.
“I never saw his face.”
The nurse ended the call.
Harris immediately called the team searching for Thomas Reed.
His apartment was empty.
Office cleared out.
Car abandoned near the river.
He had vanished.
“He’s had practice,” I said.
“Apparently.”
An officer brought us security footage from the storage facility.
The vehicle that entered the previous evening belonged to Daniel.
I stared at the image.
His SUV pulled through the gate.
The driver stepped out.
Not Daniel.
Thomas Reed.
Evan.
He used Daniel’s access code, opened the unit, remained for forty-three minutes, then left.
“What did he bring?” Harris asked.
The officer advanced the video.
Thomas carried two boxes inside.
Came out with none.
“He planted something.”
“Possibly.”
“The notebook?”
“Could be.”
“The passport?”
“Could be.”
The entire crime scene had become unreliable.
Evidence might be evidence.
Or bait.
I walked outside into cold sunlight.
My phone rang.
Victor’s number.
Harris saw the screen.
“Answer. Speaker.”
I did.
“Claire.”
Victor sounded weak.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Yes.”
Harris motioned for me to keep him talking.
“Who took you?”
Victor coughed.
“Thomas.”
My skin prickled.
“Thomas Reed?”
“That isn’t his name.”
“I know.”
Silence.
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“Then listen to me.”
His voice became urgent.
“Do not trust Rachel’s brothers.”
“Which one?”
“Either.”
“Did you kill Evan?”
“No.”
“Did you try?”
“No.”
“Did you steal three million dollars from me?”
Silence.
That was answer enough.
“Victor.”
“I moved it.”
“Without permission.”
“To protect it.”
“From whom?”
“Daniel.”
“My account was secret.”
“Nothing is secret once someone has your legal files.”
“You submitted a beneficiary change.”
“To prevent seizure.”
“In your name?”
“No.”
I looked at Harris.
“Whose?”
Victor breathed heavily.
“Rachel’s.”
My mind stalled.
“You tried to make Rachel beneficiary of my secret account?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because of the settlement.”
“Explain.”
“I can’t on the phone.”
“You’re tied to a chair somewhere and you’re worried about the phone?”
“Claire, please.”
There was fear in his voice.
I had known Victor for decades.
I had heard him angry.
Tired.
Arrogant.
Bereaved.
Never frightened.
“Who is behind this?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“That is not good enough.”
“I thought I did.”
“Who?”
“Daniel.”
I nearly laughed.
“My husband is not smart enough to build this.”
“No.”
Victor sounded almost ashamed.
“I discovered that too late.”
A noise came through the line.
Door opening.
Victor’s breathing changed.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
“One thing.”
“What?”
“Your father did not die of a heart attack.”
Everything stopped.
“What?”
The line crackled.
Victor whispered.
“I helped them hide it.”
Then someone struck him.
The phone fell.
I heard movement.
A man’s voice.
Not Michael.
Not Daniel.
Not anyone I recognized.
“Victor.”
A blow.
Then another voice said, very calmly:
“You should have stayed loyal.”
The call ended.
Harris was already tracing it.
I stood motionless.
My father did not die of a heart attack.
Victor helped hide it.
All the lies suddenly pointed backward.
Not to Daniel.
Not even Rachel.
To the year my father died.
“What happened to my father?”
Harris said nothing.
My phone vibrated again.
A message.
This one came from Thomas Reed’s number.
YOUR FATHER FOUND OUT WHO WAS STEALING FROM THE COMPANY.
A second arrived.
HE WAS GOING TO TELL YOU.
Then a third.
DANIEL WORKS FOR THE SAME MAN.
I stared at the words.
A fourth message appeared.
YOU KNOW HIM.
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: Daniel Finally Admitted Who Recruited Him, but the Name He Gave Me Proved the Betrayal Had Started Before Our Marriage
My Husband’s Midnight Message Ended Our Marriage, but the Charges Appearing From Mexico Made His Goodbye Feel Carefully Planned
Part 7 of 43
