Chapter 4 - THE ENVELOPE UNDER THE FLOOR
I moved Clara into the guest wing that night.
She protested.
"I can stay with my mother."
"Your mother's house is probably being watched."
She went quiet.
"You think they'll come after me?"
"I know they already have."
I didn't tell her the truth.
I had doubled security around the mansion.
No one entered without clearance.
No employee left without being questioned.
My security team searched the property from basement to attic.
Nothing.
At four in the morning, I found Clara sitting outside my mother's room.
She was holding a cup of tea.
"You should sleep."
She looked at me.
"So should you."
"I don't sleep much."
"Neither do I."
I sat beside her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she asked, "Why do you hate being helpless?"
The question surprised me.
"I don't."
"You do."
I looked at her.
"My mother is dying."
"I know."
"My father disappeared."
"I know."
"My sister may be alive."
"I know."
"And someone is watching my family."
She nodded.
"You can't control any of it."
"No."
"That's why you're angry."
I almost smiled.
"You're very observant."
"I'm a housekeeper."
"That isn't the same thing as invisible."
She smiled faintly.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Seeing me."
I looked away.
Something shifted between us.
Something neither of us named.
The next morning, my investigator found something.
A dormant account connected to Hale Atlantic had transferred nearly nine million dollars over twelve years.
The beneficiary?
A private trust in Bermuda.
The trustee?
Martin Vale.
My father's former CFO.
Martin had supposedly died fifteen years earlier.
Except he hadn't.
He was living under another name in Massachusetts.
I drove there with Clara.
We found the house empty.
But someone had left recently.
On the kitchen table was a cup of coffee.
Still warm.
And a note.
You are looking in the wrong direction.
Beneath it was a photograph.
My mother.
Taken two days earlier.
Someone had been watching her.
Clara stepped closer.
"There's something behind the photo."
I turned it over.
A second note was taped to the back.
The answer is beneath the house where it began.
I knew immediately.
My father's old office.
It had been demolished years ago.
Or so I thought.
We drove to Boston.
The property had been sold and redeveloped into a luxury apartment building.
But the original foundation remained beneath the underground parking garage.
My investigator found an old maintenance tunnel.
At the end was a sealed wooden door.
The silver key fit.
Clara's hand trembled as she turned it.
The door opened.
Inside was a tiny room.
Dust covered everything.
Old files.
Photographs.
A tape recorder.
And a child's drawing.
I picked it up.
It showed a family of four.
Father.
Mother.
Brother.
Sister.
The names were written underneath.
Richard. Eleanor. Bennett. Lily.
Clara covered her mouth.
I found an envelope.
For Bennett, if I fail.
My hands shook as I opened it.
My father's handwriting.
Son,
If you are reading this, then I failed to protect the family.
There is someone inside our company who has been stealing from us for years.
But the money is not the worst part.
He is using the company to control people.
Judges.
Police officials.
Politicians.
Anyone who stands in his way.
His name is not important.
What matters is this: he knows about Lily.
If anything happens to me, protect your mother.
And never trust Martin Vale.
I looked at Clara.
Her face had gone pale.
"Your father said not to trust Martin."
She nodded.
"Then why did Martin's name appear in the records?"
"I don't know."
A sound came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
I immediately pulled Clara behind me.
Two men entered.
They weren't wearing masks.
They weren't carrying guns.
They looked like businessmen.
One smiled.
"Mr. Hale."
"Who are you?"
"We've come to collect the files."
I laughed.
"You came to the wrong place."
The man sighed.
"Your father said the same thing."
Then he reached inside his coat.
I moved first.
The fight was fast.
My security team rushed in seconds later.
The men were restrained.
But one of them smiled.
"You think you've won."
I crouched beside him.
"Who sent you?"
He said nothing.
Then his phone rang.
The screen displayed one name.
MOM.
I froze.
May you like
My mother.
Someone was calling from my mother's private number.
