Chapter 4 - What My Father Buried Beneath the Roses
The first thing Rebecca told me was not to touch the garden.
"The property may be part of a criminal investigation," she explained. "We need Detective Reed involved."
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to drive straight to the duplex and tear up the ground with my bare hands.
But I had already learned what acting on emotion could cost me.
So I listened.
Rebecca called the detective.
By early afternoon, Detective Reed, Marcus, Grace, and I were standing behind Dad's workshop.
The rose garden had become overgrown.
Mom had loved pink roses.
Dad had never replaced them with anything else.
Even after she died, he watered them every morning.
Looking at the tangled branches, I felt something painful shift inside me.
I remembered him kneeling there.
His work shirt stained with dirt.
His voice telling me that love wasn't always loud.
Sometimes it was simply remembering to water the flowers.
Detective Reed inspected the area.
"What exactly are we looking for?"
I handed her Dad's letter.
She read the passage twice.
Then she asked about the layout.
Marcus pointed toward a small patch of stone beneath the rosebushes.
"Mom used to hide our birthday presents in an old biscuit tin near the workshop," he said.
I looked at him.
"I forgot about that."
He gave a sad smile.
"She always told us treasure belonged to people who remembered where home was."
Grace started crying.
Detective Reed asked us to step back.
With our permission, and after arranging for the site to be documented, an evidence technician carefully lifted the loose stones.
Beneath them was a shallow compartment lined with bricks.
Inside sat a weatherproof metal box.
My heart started pounding.
The technician photographed it before opening it.
Inside were sealed plastic sleeves.
Documents.
Photographs.
And a small digital storage device.
There was also a handwritten note.
"For Ethan and Marcus. Together."
I covered my mouth.
Marcus turned away.
For a moment, neither of us could speak.
Detective Reed took custody of the materials and arranged for forensic copies.
Rebecca explained that we would receive access to the relevant records through the investigation.
I hated having to leave the box behind.
But I understood why.
It was evidence.
And evidence was the only thing standing between my family and people willing to lie without blinking.
My phone kept buzzing.
Maya had sent six messages.
"Where are you?"
"Are you still coming?"
"Caleb rearranged his whole schedule."
Then:
"Ethan, you're making this difficult."
I showed Rebecca.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Interesting choice of words."
I didn't respond.
At three that afternoon, the title company confirmed it had paused the transaction pending verification.
The fraud alert had been accepted.
A temporary court order was being prepared to protect the property while the disputed documents were reviewed.
For the first time since Thursday night, I felt a small amount of relief.
Then Rebecca's phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
And slowly sat down.
When she ended the call, her expression had changed.
"What happened?" I asked.
"The buyer's company has filed a claim."
I stared at her.
"What claim?"
"They say you agreed to the sale, accepted an advance payment, and are now trying to withdraw."
"I never accepted anything!"
"I believe you."
She turned her laptop toward me.
A document listed a payment of $35,000.
The money had supposedly been transferred to an account in my name.
But I didn't recognize the bank.
Rebecca explained that the account might have been opened using stolen identification.
Marcus slammed his hand against the table.
"They're trying to make Ethan look guilty."
"Yes," Rebecca said. "That may be part of the strategy."
I looked at the screen.
A signature appeared beneath the payment authorization.
Mine.
Forged again.
The room suddenly felt too small.
"They can just keep inventing things?"
"They can try," Rebecca replied. "And every false record gives investigators another trail to follow."
Grace leaned forward.
"Daniel warned me Caleb would eventually do this."
Rebecca looked at her.
"Tell me more."
Grace explained that Richard Ross had used similar tactics during their old partnership dispute.
He would create fraudulent loans and then claim his business partners owed money.
When challenged, he threatened years of litigation.
Most people settled simply to escape the financial pressure.
Caleb had learned the same methods.
"He's not trying to win a fair fight," Grace said. "He's trying to exhaust Ethan."
I thought about Maya's messages.
Her impatience.
Her sudden anger.
They had expected me to arrive, sign whatever they placed in front of me, and walk away grateful.
Instead, I had become inconvenient.
At six, Detective Reed called.
She asked me to come to the station.
Alone.
Marcus wanted to accompany me.
But the detective requested a private conversation first, so Rebecca went with me instead.
We entered a small interview room.
Reed placed a folder on the table.
"We've made a preliminary review of the storage device."
I leaned forward.
"What was on it?"
"Financial records. Partnership communications. Copies of checks. Evidence related to your father's dispute with Richard Ross."
My pulse quickened.
"And?"
She hesitated.
"There's also a video."
I stared at her.
"A video of what?"
"Your father."
I felt my throat close.
Reed opened a laptop.
The screen showed Dad sitting in his workshop.
He looked thinner than I remembered.
His hair was almost completely gray.
But his eyes were the same.
Kind.
Tired.
Determined.
He looked straight into the camera.
"Ethan, Marcus, if you're watching this, something has gone terribly wrong."
I stopped breathing.
His voice filled the room.
A voice I had spent eighteen months wishing I could hear again.
He explained how Richard had manipulated business accounts.
How Caleb had continued demanding ownership of the waterfront properties.
How attempts to intimidate him had become more aggressive.
Then Dad leaned toward the camera.
"There's something I need you boys to understand. I made mistakes. I trusted the wrong man because I wanted to believe friendship meant something."
He wiped his face.
"But I never stole from Richard. And I never cheated his family."
My eyes filled.
Dad continued.
"I've kept the original records. If someone ever tries to take the house, those records will prove the truth."
Then he paused.
His expression changed.
"I also need you to know something about Maya."
My blood turned cold.
Rebecca looked at me.
I couldn't move.
Dad took a breath.
"I saw her meeting with Caleb Ross. She told him she couldn't keep pretending much longer."
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
"She wasn't honest with you, son."
He looked down.
Then back into the camera.
"I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you would think I was trying to control your life."
My hands shook.
"I'm sorry I didn't find a better way."
He paused.
Then said the words that broke me.
"If she hurts you, don't let that change the kind of man you are."
I covered my face.
For a long time, all I could hear was my father's voice.
Then the video continued.
"One more thing. There's a person involved in all this whom you don't know about. Someone who helped me gather evidence."
He leaned closer.
"Her name is Evelyn Ross."
I looked up.
Ross.
Again.
Dad's next words made the room spin.
"She's Caleb's mother. And if anything happens to me, she's the one person who can explain what really happened."
The video ended.
I stared at the empty screen.
Caleb's mother was alive.
She had helped my father.
And she knew a secret important enough that Dad had hidden it beneath Mom's roses.
Detective Reed folded her hands.
"We're trying to locate Evelyn."
I swallowed.
"Do you think she's in danger?"
Before Reed could answer, someone knocked on the door.
An officer entered.
He handed her a message.
She read it.
Then looked at me.
"Ethan, we just received a report from a neighboring county."
I gripped the edge of the table.
"What report?"
"A woman named Evelyn Ross was admitted to a hospital last night."
My heart raced.
"Is she okay?"
May you like
Reed's expression hardened.
"She's alive. But someone has been trying to prevent her from speaking to investigators."
