Chapter 4: The Secret Behind the Wine Cellar
Jennifer arrived at my office forty minutes after I told her about Thomas Reed's phone call.
She brought two people with her: a private investigator named Marcus Hill and a property attorney named David Foster.
Neither looked particularly surprised when I explained what Thomas had said.
That worried me.
“Has my father been involved in anything illegal?”” I asked.
Marcus opened a notebook.
“Your father's company had several financial problems before it collapsed. Some were ordinary business failures. Others were considerably less straightforward.””
“Be specific.””
He slid a photograph across my desk.
It showed my father standing outside the mansion with another man. The picture looked old, probably taken eight or nine years earlier.
I recognized my father immediately.
The other man was unfamiliar.
“Who is he?””
“Victor Hale,” Marcus replied.
“Former business partner. He disappeared shortly after your father's company entered bankruptcy proceedings.””
I looked closer.
“Disappeared?””
“His family reported him missing. His car was found abandoned near a highway outside Indianapolis. No confirmed sightings since.””
Jennifer exchanged a glance with Marcus.
I noticed.
“What aren't you telling me?””
David opened a folder.
“Your father's original mortgage wasn't the only financial obligation attached to the property. There was a private loan secured against the mansion.””
“How much?””
“Approximately $1.4 million.””
I stared at him.
“That loan was paid off when I purchased the property.””
“According to the closing records, yes. But the lender's records indicate that a separate financial instrument may have remained outstanding.””
“What instrument?””
David hesitated.
“A personal guarantee signed by your father and Victor Hale.””
I leaned forward.
“Why would that matter if the property was transferred?””
“Because if someone used the property as collateral without proper authorization, the original transaction could become part of a larger investigation.””
I looked at Jennifer.
“Are you telling me I might have purchased a house connected to a financial crime?””
“I'm telling you we need to establish exactly what happened.””
Marcus closed his notebook.
“There's another reason I wanted to speak with you. Your father recently hired someone to remove old storage equipment from the basement.””
“When?””
“Three days before your sister threw the shoe.””
I went completely still.
“Three days before?””
“Yes.””
“Who did the work?””
“Two contractors. Neither has a criminal record. Both say your father personally supervised them.””
“What were they removing?””
Marcus looked down at his notes.
“Shelving, a refrigerator, and a section of wooden paneling behind the wine cellar.””
I stood.
“Let's go.””
Jennifer immediately shook her head.
“Not without confirming your legal right to access the property.””
“I own it.””
“And your parents currently occupy it. We are not going to create an unnecessary confrontation or risk damaging evidence.””
I hated hearing that.
But she was right.
We needed to be careful.
At 3:40 p.m., Marcus received a call from Thomas Reed.
He put it on speaker.
“Thomas, I'm here with Daniel.””
The older man's voice sounded nervous.
“Did you tell him about the basement?””
“Yes.””
“Then he needs to understand something. His father didn't just hide documents down there.””
“What did he hide?”” I asked.
Thomas breathed heavily.
“A safe.””
I exchanged a glance with Jennifer.
“What was inside?””
“I don't know everything. I saw Robert put envelopes in it. Bank records.
Property agreements. And a photograph.””
“What photograph?””
“A picture of Victor Hale with your mother.””
I frowned.
“My mother?””
“Yes. Patricia was there the night Victor disappeared.””
I felt the room grow colder.
“Why didn't you tell the police?””
“I tried. Your father told everyone I had stolen company money. I lost my job, my marriage, and eventually my home. Nobody believed me.””
Jennifer leaned toward the phone.
“Mr. Reed, do you have evidence?””
“I kept copies of some company records. I also have an old key.””
“What does it open?”” I asked.
“The safe.””
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Thomas said something that changed the direction of the entire investigation.
“Your father doesn't know I kept it. And he doesn't know I still have the original ledger.””
Jennifer immediately asked him to meet with us through counsel.
Thomas agreed.
Before hanging up, he added one final warning.
“Daniel, don't tell your sister about the safe.””
“Why?””
“Because Melissa was the last person I saw leaving that basement before Victor disappeared.””
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Melissa.
My thirty-two-year-old sister.
The woman who had thrown a shoe at my pregnant wife because she couldn't tolerate someone sitting in her favorite chair.
Jennifer closed her folder.
“Daniel, we need to investigate this carefully.””
I nodded.
But my thoughts were already somewhere else.
That evening, I arrived home later than expected.
Claire was sitting on the sofa with a blanket across her legs. A plate of sliced apples rested on the coffee table.
She looked up.
“Bad day?””
“Complicated day.””
I sat beside her and told her everything.
When I mentioned Melissa's name, Claire stopped eating.
“She was there?””
“According to Thomas.””
“Daniel, what if he's wrong?””
“He might be.””
Claire put down her plate.
“And what if he's right?””
I didn't answer.
She took my hand.
“Whatever this is, don't investigate it alone.””
I kissed her forehead.
“I won't.””
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
*You should stop asking about the basement. Some things are better left buried.*
I showed Claire.
Her face went pale.
“Who sent that?””
I checked the number.
No name.
Then another message arrived.
*Your wife should be careful. Accidents happen.*
I immediately stood.
Claire looked at me.
“Daniel?””
I called Jennifer.
She answered while I was still walking toward the kitchen.
“Jennifer, someone just threatened Claire.””
Her voice became sharp.
“Forward me the messages. Don't respond. I'll contact the appropriate authorities.””
I did exactly that.
Then I checked the security cameras around our house.
Nothing unusual appeared.
But as I watched the driveway footage, I noticed a dark SUV parked across the street.
It had been there for almost twenty minutes.
I zoomed in.
The driver's window was slightly open.
A familiar face turned toward the camera.
Melissa.
May you like
And she wasn't alone.
The passenger was my father.
