Chapter 4 - The Man in the Silver Car
The reunion ended early.
Some people blamed a technical malfunction. Others whispered that Mara had arranged the spectacle to draw attention to herself.
Mara didn't care what they thought.
She left the field and climbed into the waiting car.
Her assistant, Priya, had already been alerted and was waiting outside the school.
“Where to?” Priya asked.
“My mother's house.”
On the drive, Mara called the company’s head of security.
“I need you to investigate an old incident involving a fire at a bakery in Cedar Ridge, Ohio. The date was December 2004. I want the original police report, insurance records, and any information about a black sedan with a silver emblem.”
“Is this connected to the note you received?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want local law enforcement involved?”
“Not until we understand what we're dealing with.”
When Mara reached Honey & Rye, Rebecca was waiting at the back door.
She had placed a battered metal box on the kitchen table.
Inside were old photographs, insurance letters, tax records, and a folded newspaper clipping.
Mara picked up the clipping.
It described a fire at a warehouse on the edge of town. The warehouse belonged to a company called Northstar Distribution.
Three employees had been injured.
One had later died.
The fire had been ruled accidental.
Mara looked at her mother.
“What does this have to do with Dad?”
Rebecca sat down.
“Your father worked at Northstar for a few months before he left us. He was a mechanic, but he also handled deliveries. He came home one night and told me he'd seen something he shouldn't have.”
“What?”
“He wouldn't say. Only that someone was moving expensive equipment through the warehouse without recording it properly. He said the company was using false invoices.”
Mara scanned the article.
The warehouse fire had occurred four months before the bakery fire.
“Did Dad report it?”
“He wanted to. Then he became afraid. He said the man in the silver car had threatened him.”
“Who was the man?”
“I never learned his name.”
Mara took a photograph from the box.
It showed her father standing outside the bakery with a man whose face was partially hidden by sunlight.
The man wore a dark coat and stood beside a black sedan.
Mara turned the picture over.
On the back, her father had written a name.
E. W.
“Do you know what that means?” she asked.
Rebecca shook her head.
Mara sent the photograph to her security chief.
Within an hour, he called back.
“The vehicle appears to be a 2003 luxury sedan. The emblem is consistent with a limited-production model. There were only a few registered in Ohio at the time.”
“Can you identify the owner?”
“One registration belongs to a company called Westbridge Capital. The company was founded by Edward Whitmore.”
Mara recognized the name.
Edward Whitmore was one of the wealthiest investors in the Midwest. He owned commercial property, logistics firms, and a chain of private medical facilities.
He had also been a major donor to Cedar Ridge High School.
“Find everything you can about him,” Mara said.
Her security chief hesitated.
“There is something else. Westbridge Capital invested in Northstar Distribution shortly before the warehouse fire. It sold its stake a year later.”
Mara stared at the old photograph.
“Did the company have any connection to my father's death?”
“We're checking. But there's a gap in the records surrounding his accident.”
Mara felt a chill.
Her father had supposedly died when his car left a country road during a storm.
There had been no independent witness.
No public autopsy report.
And the insurance claim had been handled by a company later acquired by Westbridge Capital.
She turned toward her mother.
“Mom, did you ever see Dad's body?”
Rebecca looked up sharply.
“What?”
“After the accident. Did you identify him?”
Her mother's eyes filled with tears.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“The police said the damage was too severe. They told me the identification had been confirmed through dental records.”
Mara's heart began to pound.
“Did you see the records?”
“No.”
Mara took Rebecca's hands.
“I think we need to find out whether Dad really died that night.”
Rebecca shook her head in disbelief.
“That's impossible.”
“Maybe.”
May you like
Mara looked at the photograph again.
“But someone has spent twenty-two years making sure we never asked the question.”
