Chapter 8: The Recording in Box 214
First National Bank was only twenty minutes away.
The entire drive, Dad barely spoke.
I held the silver key in my hand, turning it over and over.
The edges were worn smooth.
My mother must have carried it for months.
Maybe she had intended to give it to me herself.
That thought hurt more than I expected.
At the bank, Thomas met us near the entrance.
He had already arranged access to the safe-deposit box through the trust's legal representative.
A bank employee escorted us downstairs.
The room was small and cold.
There were rows of metal boxes behind a thick security door.
The employee checked our identification, verified the paperwork, and led us to a private table.
"Box 214," she said.
She placed a small metal container in front of us.
I inserted the key.
It turned with a soft click.
Inside were three items.
A USB drive.
A sealed envelope.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed my mother standing beside a younger Victor outside a building I recognized.
Carter Construction's original office.
On the back, she had written:
The day he promised me everything was safe.
Dad picked it up.
His hands were shaking.
Thomas examined the USB drive.
"Your mother recorded the conversation digitally. She also gave me a written transcript.""
He opened his briefcase.
"Let's listen.""
We sat around the table.
Thomas connected the USB drive to his laptop.
A recording appeared.
The date was visible.
Eight months before my mother's death.
Then a woman's voice filled the room.
My mother's voice.
"Victor, I know about the transfers.""
A chair scraped.
Then Victor spoke.
"You don't understand how the business works.""
My mother answered immediately.
"I understand exactly how it works. I understand that money is leaving the company and entering an account you control.""
Victor laughed.
"Daniel approved everything.""
"Daniel didn't approve anything.""
"You can't prove that.""
"I have the statements.""
A long silence followed.
Then Victor's voice became quieter.
"Listen, Margaret. We can resolve this without involving the police.""
My mother spoke firmly.
"You've been stealing from my family.""
"I've been keeping the company alive.""
"With money that belongs to your partner?""
"With money that would have disappeared anyway.""
I looked at Dad.
He had one hand pressed against his mouth.
The recording continued.
My mother said, "I want everything returned.""
Victor laughed again.
"You're making a mistake.""
"Am I?""
"Daniel trusts me.""
"That's his problem.""
Then came a sound.
A door closing.
Victor lowered his voice.
"Do you know what happens if Daniel discovers how much you've been signing?""
My mother's voice changed.
"What are you talking about?""
"The authorizations. The loan documents. The transfers.""
Silence.
Then my mother spoke slowly.
"I never signed those.""
Victor laughed.
"Of course you did.""
"Victor, I never signed them.""
A chair moved.
Then his voice became almost gentle.
"Margaret, you're sick. You're under stress. Maybe you should stop asking questions.""
The recording ended abruptly.
Nobody spoke.
I stared at the laptop.
My mother had sounded so strong.
So certain.
And Victor had threatened her while she was already fighting an illness.
Dad finally whispered, "He used her signature too.""
Thomas nodded.
"That was one of her concerns.""
"How much did he take?""
"Approximately four hundred and eighty thousand dollars over several years. The exact amount is still being calculated.""
Dad stood up.
He walked to the small window at the end of the room.
"Fifteen years.""
His voice cracked.
"Fifteen years I trusted that man.""
Thomas closed the laptop.
"Your wife believed he had been manipulating the company's financial records long before your marriage to Renee.""
I looked at the photograph.
"Why was Renee involved?""
Thomas opened the sealed envelope.
Inside was a handwritten letter from my mother.
He read silently for a moment.
Then he looked at Dad.
"Margaret believed Victor had approached Renee before she became your wife.""
Dad turned around.
"What?""
"She suspected their relationship began before the wedding.""
Renee's face came into my mind.
The first time Dad introduced us.
The way she immediately knew which bedroom was mine.
The way she seemed unusually comfortable in our house.
I had always assumed she was simply confident.
Now every memory felt different.
Dad sat back down.
"Are you saying Victor helped Renee get close to me?""
Thomas shook his head.
"Your wife never proved that.""
He placed the letter on the table.
"But she believed they were working together.""
Dad read the letter.
His expression changed with every paragraph.
Then he stopped.
"There's another page.""
Thomas handed it over.
The second page contained a list of dates.
Several were marked with red circles.
One date stood out.
The day Renee and Dad had announced their engagement.
Beside it, my mother had written:
Victor transferred $35,000 to Renee's account.
Dad stared at the number.
"She had money before we married.""
Thomas nodded.
"Yes.""
"She told me she was struggling.""
"According to these records, she received several payments from Victor.""
Dad looked sick.
I remembered Renee telling me, during our first Christmas together, that she had sacrificed everything to become part of our family.
Apparently, she had been paid to enter it.
Thomas reached into the box again.
There was one final item beneath the envelopes.
A small black notebook.
He opened it carefully.
The first page contained my mother's handwriting.
If anything happens to me, the original ledger is not in the company office.
Dad leaned forward.
"Where is it?""
Thomas turned the page.
There was a short note.
Daniel knows where I kept it. He just doesn't remember.
Dad stared at the handwriting.
Then he slowly looked up.
"The house.""
I frowned.
"What?""
Dad's face had changed.
"Your mother's old sewing room.""
I remembered that room.
It had been converted into storage after she died.
The old sewing machine was still there, covered with a white sheet. Her wooden desk remained against the wall.
Dad had never allowed anyone to throw away her things.
"Do you think it's there?"" I asked.
He nodded.
"Your mother used to hide important papers inside the false bottom of her sewing cabinet.""
Thomas looked surprised.
"She never told me that.""
Dad gave a sad smile.
"She liked keeping one secret from her lawyer.""
We drove home immediately.
When we arrived, the front door was unlocked.
That was unusual.
Dad stepped inside.
"Renee?""
No answer.
The kitchen was empty.
Mia's handbag was gone.
So was the blue folder containing the property documents.
Dad walked toward the staircase.
Then he heard something upstairs.
A drawer slamming.
He ran.
I followed him down the hallway.
The sewing room door stood open.
Inside, Renee was kneeling beside the old wooden cabinet.
She was pulling papers from a hidden compartment.
Dad stopped in the doorway.
"Step away from that cabinet.""
Renee froze.
A stack of documents fell from her hands.
Then she slowly turned around.
In her right hand was a small black notebook.
The same kind of notebook we had just found in the safe-deposit box.
Dad stared at it.
"Where did you get that?""
Renee tried to close the compartment.
Dad stepped forward.
"Don't touch anything.""
She stood.
Her face was pale.
"You don't understand.""
Dad looked at the notebook.
Then at the open cabinet.
And finally at the empty space where the original ledger should have been.
"Where is it, Renee?""
She began shaking.
"I don't have it.""
"Then why are you searching for it?""
She looked at me.
For a moment, her expression softened.
Almost pleading.
May you like
Then she said something that made Dad go completely still.
"Because Victor told me if that ledger ever reaches the police, all three of us go to prison.""
