Chapter 8
James Bennett had been at my childhood birthdays.
He gave me my first car.
He stood beside Dad at Mom's funeral.
And he owned twelve percent of Bennett Capital.
When Paul said family, my mind tried to reject the obvious answer.
Dad's didn't.
He pulled out his phone.
“Where's James?”
Melissa checked.
“He was supposed to be in New York.”
“Supposed to be?”
“Board calendar says investor meetings through Monday.”
Dad called him.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
I remembered something.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“The restaurant.”
“What about it?”
“You arrived with Melissa and two board members.”
He stared at me.
“James wasn't one of them.”
“No.”
“Who told him tonight's signing was happening?”
Dad looked at Melissa.
She went pale.
“The whole board knew.”
I shook my head.
“But only a few people knew the exact restaurant.”
Silence.
Melissa pulled up her emails.
“Thomas, you sent the dinner details yourself.”
“To who?”
She looked.
“To me, Paul, Richard…”
Her face changed.
“And James.”
Dad said nothing.
We returned to the hospital before sunrise.
Paul remained unconscious but stable.
Rebecca was out of surgery.
Daniel had refused discharge until the rest of us returned.
When Dad told him about James, my brother stared at the wall.
“Uncle James?”
“We don't know yet.”
“Yes, we do.”
“Daniel.”
“He always hated you.”
Dad frowned.
“That isn't true.”
Daniel laughed.
“Seriously?”
I looked at him.
“What do you know?”
Daniel shifted.
“Nothing specific.”
“Then why say that?”
“Because he says things.”
Dad stared.
“What things?”
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“At family stuff.”
“Daniel.”
“He once told me Bennett Capital should have been half his.”
Dad's expression changed.
“When?”
“Last Christmas.”
I remembered James drinking too much that night.
He had argued with Dad about expansion plans.
I had left early.
“What else?” I asked.
Daniel looked at Dad.
“He said Mom convinced Grandpa to leave you more money.”
Dad sat down.
“That never happened.”
“I know.”
“Your grandfather left us equal shares.”
“That's what I told him.”
“And?”
“He said the company was built using family property.”
Dad's jaw tightened.
Bennett Capital's first successful acquisition had been financed partly through the sale of land our grandfather left them.
James had sold his share to Dad early.
For cash.
Then spent most of it in five years.
If James believed Dad owed him for what the company later became, resentment could have grown for decades.
Melissa looked at her phone.
“I’m freezing James's board access.”
Dad nodded.
“Do it.”
My phone rang.
Carol.
I answered.
Her voice was frantic.
“Emily.”
“What happened?”
“Someone broke into my house.”
“Are you there?”
“No. Ethan and I are still under police protection.”
“What did they take?”
“I don't know.”
Then Ethan spoke in the background.
“Yes, we do.”
Carol went quiet.
I put the call on speaker.
“What?” Dad asked.
Ethan said, “The home security app shows one person inside.”
“Can you see the face?”
“I sent Emily a screenshot.”
My phone buzzed.
I opened it.
The camera image was grainy.
A man stood inside Carol's study.
Gray hair.
Expensive overcoat.
Dad didn't need more than one second.
“James.”
My chest tightened.
Uncle James was searching the Caldwell house.
For what?
Ethan said, “He went straight to Mom's office.”
Carol whispered, “He knows.”
“Knows what?” I asked.
“The paper records.”
“What paper records?”
“The ones I didn't put on the flash drive.”
Melissa nearly shouted.
“Where are they?”
Carol hesitated.
“Hidden in my office.”
Dad grabbed the phone.
“Carol, tell the police now.”
“They're already going.”
Ethan stared at another device.
“He found the wall compartment.”
“How?”
Nobody knew.
On the live feed, James pulled a binder from behind a bookshelf.
Then he looked directly at the camera.
My stomach dropped.
He knew it was there.
He reached up.
The feed went black.
Dad called James again.
This time he answered.
My father didn't speak immediately.
Neither did James.
Finally Dad said, “You should have stayed in New York.”
James laughed.
“You should have minded your own business twenty-three years ago.”
Daniel stared at Dad.
My father looked wounded.
“You're working with Caldwell.”
“Working with?”
James laughed again.
“Richard works for himself. Nathan worked for revenge. Rebecca worked for a ghost. Everyone has their reasons.”
“And yours?”
“You took everything.”
“I bought your share.”
“For pennies.”
“You named the price.”
“I was twenty-six.”
“So was I.”
“You had Laura.”
Dad went still.
“What does my wife have to do with this?”
“Everything always came easier to you.”
Dad shut his eyes.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
This wasn't about one betrayal.
It was decades of resentment finally being spoken aloud.
“You had Dad's respect. Laura. The company. The children.”
James's voice hardened.
“And I got to sit at your table and be grateful.”
Dad whispered, “You were my brother.”
“I still am.”
“No.”
That one word ended something.
James paused.
Then his tone turned cold.
“You have a decision to make.”
“What?”
“The records Carol kept prove Lakeview fraud.”
“We already have evidence.”
“Not like this.”
Dad looked at Melissa.
James continued.
“They also show every offshore account Richard used.”
“Where are you?”
“You don't need to know.”
“You broke into Carol's house.”
“She should have destroyed the files.”
“You assaulted anyone?”
“Don't be dramatic.”
Police sirens could be faintly heard through his phone.
James laughed.
“I'll call you.”
He hung up.
Dad stared at the screen.
Daniel whispered, “Why?”
Dad didn't answer.
Melissa did.
“Money.”
“No.”
Dad shook his head.
“James has money.”
“Not Bennett money.”
That was cruel.
And accurate.
James had wealth.
Dad had power.
There was a difference.
An hour later, police confirmed James escaped through the rear of Carol's property before officers arrived.
He took the binder.
But his face was recorded.
There was no hiding his involvement now.
By seven in the morning, news outlets had picked up Richard's arrest at the restaurant.
A customer video had gone viral.
The clip showed Richard hitting me.
Then my father arriving.
Then Richard discovering exactly who he had assaulted.
The internet loved it.
I hated it.
Because viewers saw justice happen in sixty seconds.
They didn't see Daniel bleeding.
Rebecca being shot.
Paul tied to a chair.
My uncle betraying my father.
They didn't know the slap was only the first domino.
Melissa's phone rang constantly.
Reporters.
Investors.
Lawyers.
The board.
One headline read:
CEO ARRESTED AFTER ASSAULTING WAITRESS WHO TURNED OUT TO BE INVESTOR'S DAUGHTER.
Another:
CALDWELL DEVELOPMENT FINANCING IN DOUBT AFTER RESTAURANT INCIDENT.
Dad looked at me.
“You're famous.”
“Great.”
“You always wanted more responsibility.”
“Not like this.”
His phone rang.
A board member.
Then another.
Bennett Capital had to issue a statement.
Dad refused to discuss the old Vale case publicly until law enforcement understood what was happening.
Melissa agreed.
Then a nurse entered.
“Mr. Bennett?”
Dad stood.
“Rebecca Hastings is asking for Emily.”
Me.
Not Dad.
I went alone.
Rebecca looked exhausted.
Her shoulder was bandaged.
She watched me sit.
“You came.”
“You asked.”
She smiled faintly.
“Still like Laura.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Today? Yes.”
She nodded.
“Fair.”
I looked at her.
“Did you know about James?”
Her expression changed.
“Not until recently.”
“How recent?”
“Three weeks.”
“What was he doing?”
“Feeding Richard Bennett information.”
“Why?”
“Money. Revenge. Ego.”
“That simple?”
“Most complicated crimes are built on simple weaknesses.”
I thought about Richard.
Nathan.
James.
Different stories.
Same hunger.
“What did Mom discover seventeen years ago?”
Rebecca stared at the ceiling.
“More than I told Thomas.”
I leaned forward.
“What?”
“She found Richard's payment to the mechanic.”
“I know that.”
“She also found the mechanic.”
“Alive?”
“At the time.”
My heart raced.
“What did he say?”
“He admitted Richard paid him to disable part of Martin's braking system.”
The room went cold.
“So Richard killed your father.”
Rebecca's eyes filled.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“The mechanic said Richard told him to cause a breakdown.”
“Not a crash?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“To stop Martin from reaching the federal prosecutor's office that night.”
My skin prickled.
“Martin was going to confess.”
“Yes.”
“And expose Richard.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“The mechanic damaged the brake line. More than he intended. My father's brakes failed on Lake Shore Drive.”
I stared at her.
“And Mom knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't she go to police?”
“She tried.”
“What?”
“Richard found out.”
“How?”
Rebecca turned her head toward me.
“James.”
My breath stopped.
“Uncle James?”
“He was friends with Richard then.”
“No.”
“They went to college together.”
Dad had never mentioned it.
“James told Richard Laura was asking questions.”
I stood.
“Why would he do that?”
“Maybe he didn't understand what Richard had done yet.”
“You don't believe that.”
“No.”
I walked toward the window.
“What did Richard do to Mom?”
Rebecca's silence terrified me.
I turned.
“What did he do?”
“He threatened you.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Her voice shook.
“He did more than send photographs.”
“What?”
“He had someone follow Laura's car.”
My heart pounded.
“She told me.”
“Then?”
“She stopped investigating.”
“Until when?”
Rebecca looked away.
“Until the year she died.”
Everything inside me stopped.
My mother died fifteen years ago.
Car accident.
Rainy night.
A truck ran a red light.
At least that was what I had always been told.
“No.”
Rebecca's eyes filled.
“Emily.”
“No.”
“The official report said—”
“I know what the report said.”
I backed toward the door.
“You're saying Richard killed my mother?”
“I’m saying Laura reopened the investigation six weeks before she died.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“Why?”
“She had found another witness.”
“Who?”
Rebecca swallowed.
“Richard's former assistant.”
“What did the assistant know?”
“She knew Richard paid the mechanic.”
I could barely breathe.
“And James?”
Rebecca whispered, “Laura called him the night she died.”
I stared at her.
“How do you know?”
“I have her phone records.”
“Why would Mom call James?”
Rebecca's answer came slowly.
“Because she had finally discovered that James wasn't just protecting Richard.”
May you like
My skin turned cold.
“He was his partner.”
