Chapter 3: What My Father Left Behind
The ballroom was no longer a wedding venue.
It had become a room full of witnesses.
Detective Bennett asked the guests to remain available for statements while paramedics finally arrived to examine my mother.
I wanted to go with her.
But she refused to release my hand.
"Stay here, sweetheart.""
"Mom, you're hurt.""
"I know.""
"You need a hospital.""
"I'll go. But first, you need to hear this.""
I looked at the detective.
"Can we talk somewhere private?""
Bennett nodded.
"There's a conference room downstairs.""
Nia immediately stepped forward.
"I'm coming.""
I turned toward her.
"No.""
Her lips parted.
"Michael, I'm your wife.""
The word sounded strange coming from her now.
Wife.
Less than an hour earlier, I had kissed her beneath a ceiling of crystal lights and promised to spend the rest of my life protecting her.
Now I couldn't tell whether the woman standing in front of me had ever loved me.
Richard moved toward us.
"This is getting out of hand. Michael, you need to calm down.""
I looked at him.
"You've had enough time to talk.""
He narrowed his eyes.
"Be careful what you say.""
Daniel stepped beside me.
"Or what?""
Richard glanced at him but said nothing.
Detective Bennett led us downstairs.
My mother sat in a wheelchair while a paramedic checked her blood pressure.
I walked beside her.
"Mom, what did Dad leave behind?""
She stared at her hands.
"Your father was an accountant.""
"I know.""
"He worked for a development company in Manhattan. He wasn't wealthy when he died, but he had discovered something.""
"What?""
"Fraud.""
She paused as the paramedic wrapped a bandage around her wrist.
"Several business partners had been using shell companies to move money from construction projects. Your father found the records.""
I leaned closer.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I was afraid.""
"Of who?""
She looked at Detective Bennett.
"Richard Whitmore.""
The detective wrote something down.
My mother continued.
"Your father had been working with Richard before he died. They were supposed to be partners in a property development business.""
I frowned.
"Richard knew Dad?""
"They were friends. Or at least, that's what I believed.""
"How did Dad die?""
My mother looked away.
"Your father was driving home one night when his car went off the road.""
I remembered that night.
The police had told us it was an accident. Rain had made the highway dangerous. The car had struck a barrier.
I had been eleven.
My mother had held me while I cried at the funeral.
"Are you saying it wasn't an accident?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know.""
"Mom, you can't tell me all this and then say you don't know.""
She reached into her handbag.
There was a small brass key attached to a faded blue ribbon.
"I found this in your father's old desk two weeks ago.""
I took it.
"What does it open?""
"His safety deposit box.""
"Where?""
"At the bank downtown.""
Detective Bennett looked up.
"Did you open it?""
My mother nodded.
"Yesterday morning.""
"What was inside?""
"Documents. Bank statements. A letter.""
"Where are they now?""
My mother closed her eyes.
"I gave them to someone I trusted.""
"Who?""
She looked at me.
"Your wife.""
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"What?""
"She said she wanted to help. She told me she would protect you.""
I shook my head.
"Why would you give her the documents?""
"Because she came to see me three weeks ago.""
I stared at her.
"Nia visited you?""
My mother nodded.
"She told me she knew about your father's business. She said Richard had been hiding something for years.""
I couldn't make sense of it.
"Then why would she steal the documents?""
My mother looked toward the ceiling.
"She said she wanted to expose him.""
Detective Bennett leaned forward.
"Mrs. Carter, do you have proof that she received the documents?""
"I have a photograph.""
She reached for her phone.
The screen was cracked, but it still worked.
She opened her photo gallery and handed it to me.
It showed Nia sitting across from my mother at a small coffee shop.
Between them was a thick brown envelope.
The photograph had been taken from another table.
I zoomed in.
Nia was holding the envelope.
On the table beside her was a glass of water and a white folder.
The date was three weeks earlier.
I looked at my mother.
"Who took this?""
"Your father's old business partner.""
"Who?""
"Martin Hayes.""
The name meant nothing to me.
Detective Bennett, however, looked up sharply.
"Martin Hayes?""
My mother nodded.
"He called me after your father died. He said if I ever found the missing documents, I should contact him.""
"Where is he now?""
She hesitated.
"I don't know.""
I looked at the photograph again.
"Why didn't you tell me any of this before?""
My mother started crying.
"Because I wanted you to have a normal life.""
I sat beside her.
"Mom, you should have trusted me.""
"I know.""
"You don't have to protect me from everything.""
She reached up and touched my cheek.
"I was afraid they would take you away from me too.""
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Detective Bennett's phone rang.
She stepped away to answer it.
I watched her expression change.
"Where?"" she asked.
A pause.
"Are you certain?""
Another pause.
"Don't let him leave.""
She ended the call.
"What happened?"" I asked.
"The man from the ballroom was caught outside the hotel.""
"Andrew?""
"Yes.""
"Did he talk?""
"Not yet.""
She looked at my mother.
"But we recovered something from his vehicle.""
"What?""
"A laptop. And a folder containing several copies of the documents your mother mentioned.""
I stood.
"Where are they?""
"At the station. They'll need to be processed.""
I exhaled.
"At least we have something.""
The detective didn't look relieved.
"There's more.""
She opened a photograph on her phone.
It showed a bank transfer confirmation.
The amount was $4.8 million.
The recipient was Whitmore Holdings.
The sender was an account registered under my father's name.
I stared at it.
"That account shouldn't exist.""
"Apparently, it does.""
My mother slowly lowered her head.
"That's what I was trying to tell you.""
I turned toward her.
"Where did that money come from?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know. Your father never told me the full details.""
Detective Bennett pointed to the date.
"This transfer was made six days ago.""
I stared at the screen.
Six days ago.
My father had been dead for twenty-three years.
Someone had been using his identity.
"Who authorized it?""
The detective enlarged the photograph.
There was an electronic signature at the bottom.
I recognized the name immediately.
Richard Whitmore.
I felt something inside me break.
"He stole from my father's account.""
"That's one possibility," Bennett said.
I looked at the detective.
"What's the other?""
She hesitated.
"That someone with legal authority over the account has been moving the money.""
I looked down at the document.
There was another name listed beneath Richard's.
Nia Carter.
My wife's name.
I couldn't breathe.
"She had access?""
Detective Bennett nodded.
"According to the records, she was added as an authorized representative eleven days ago.""
I stared at the signature.
It looked like hers.
My mother covered her mouth.
"Oh, Michael.""
I stood and walked toward the window.
Outside, the hotel's parking lot was illuminated by rows of white lights.
The wedding guests were still upstairs.
The flowers were still arranged.
The cake was still waiting.
Everything that had been meant to celebrate the beginning of my marriage was sitting untouched above us.
My phone vibrated.
A message appeared from Nia.
Michael, please don't let your mother manipulate you. I can explain everything. Meet me alone. There's something about your father you still don't know.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
And if Detective Bennett finds the original letter, all three of us could go to prison.
I slowly turned toward the detective.
"She wants to meet me.""
Bennett held out her hand.
"Let me see.""
I gave her the phone.
She read both messages.
Then she looked at me.
"Don't answer her.""
"Why?""
"Because we haven't told her about the letter.""
I frowned.
"What letter?""
My mother went completely pale.
The detective looked at her.
"Mrs. Carter, you said there was a letter in the safety deposit box.""
My mother nodded.
"I gave it to Nia.""
Bennett's expression hardened.
"Did you read it?""
My mother shook her head.
"No. Nia said she would take it to Martin Hayes.""
"Did you see what was written on the envelope?""
My mother hesitated.
Then she whispered, "Yes.""
"What did it say?""
She looked directly at me.
"To Michael. On his wedding day.""
My heart stopped.
Detective Bennett slowly closed her folder.
"Mrs. Carter, I think we need to find that letter immediately.""
My mother gripped my hand.
"Michael, there's something your father wanted you to know before you got married.""
"What?""
She looked toward the ceiling, where the wedding reception was still waiting.
Then she spoke in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
"Your father didn't die before he could tell you the truth.""
She swallowed.
"He died because he was trying to stop someone from becoming your family.""
And before I could ask who, the detective's phone rang again.
May you like
This time, the caller ID showed one name.
*MARTIN HAYES.*
