Chapter 4
I could barely breathe.
"What about Mom's accident?"
My father stood in the middle of my office, staring at Vanessa's message.
"Dad."
He looked up.
"Tell me."
He pulled out the chair and sat.
"Your mother was supposed to meet someone the night she died."
I shook my head.
"I know. She was driving home from work."
"That's what I told you."
My stomach tightened.
"What really happened?"
He stared at his hands.
"Elizabeth had discovered missing money from a charitable account connected to your grandfather's foundation."
I felt cold.
"Missing money?"
"She thought someone was using false invoices to take donations."
I swallowed.
"Who?"
"I never knew."
He looked toward the window.
"She called me that evening and said she had found something important. She wanted us to meet your grandfather together."
"Did she say what it was?"
"No. She sounded frightened."
My voice broke.
"And then?"
"She never made it home."
I sat down.
The room seemed painfully quiet.
I remembered my mother's funeral.
The white flowers.
My grandfather holding my hand.
My father standing beside the coffin with an expression I had never seen before.
I had been four years old.
Too young to understand death.
Old enough to understand that my mother wasn't coming back.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
My father began crying.
"Because I didn't want you growing up afraid."
I stared at him.
"Or because you didn't want to answer questions?"
He looked devastated.
"I thought the police had found everything they could."
"What did they find?"
"A mechanical failure. They said she lost control of the car."
I pressed my fingers against my temples.
"Then what does Vanessa know?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know how she knows any of this."
Something was wrong.
Vanessa hadn't married my father until years after my mother's death.
Why would she have information about an old investigation?
Why would she threaten him with it now?
I grabbed my phone and called Eleanor.
She answered immediately.
"Nia?"
"Did my grandfather ever investigate my mother's accident?"
There was a long silence.
Then Eleanor said, "Where did you hear that?"
"My father just told me about the missing money."
I heard her exhale.
"Nia, this is not something I want to discuss over the phone."
"Please."
Her voice softened.
"Your grandfather never believed the missing funds were an accounting mistake. He spent years trying to reconstruct the records."
"Did he find anything?"
"He found suspicious transactions. But suspicion isn't proof."
I closed my eyes.
"Was Vanessa involved?"
"I cannot responsibly tell you that without evidence."
I appreciated her caution.
But my fear only grew.
Eleanor promised to arrive within an hour.
When I ended the call, I looked at my father.
"I want Vanessa back inside."
He frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I'm done being the only person in this family who doesn't know what's happening."
We found Vanessa near the SUV.
Maya sat in the passenger seat.
Vanessa had her phone pressed to her ear.
She ended the call when she saw us.
"Marcus, we're leaving."
I stepped forward.
"What do you know about my mother?"
For the first time, Vanessa seemed completely unprepared.
Her eyes widened.
"What?"
"Her accident."
She looked at my father.
"You told her?"
I watched their faces.
My father spoke firmly.
"You threatened me with it."
Vanessa gave a nervous laugh.
"I was upset. I said something stupid."
"Then explain it."
She crossed her arms.
"Your mother was involved in financial trouble. Your father protected her reputation."
I felt anger rise through my chest.
"Be careful."
Vanessa lifted her chin.
"I'm only telling you what I've heard."
"From whom?"
She hesitated.
"A former employee."
"Name?"
"I don't remember."
I stepped closer.
"You remember enough to threaten my father, but not enough to name your source?"
She looked away.
Maya opened the car door.
"Mom, what's going on?"
Vanessa snapped, "Get back in the car."
Maya froze.
I looked at her.
"Did you know anything about this?"
She shook her head.
"No."
For once, I believed her.
She looked as confused as I felt.
Vanessa reached for the car door.
I spoke before she could get inside.
"Eleanor Price is coming."
Her hand stopped.
The color drained from her cheeks.
"Why?"
"Because Grandpa's documents belong in the hands of someone who understands them."
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"That woman always hated me."
My father stared at her.
"How do you know Eleanor?"
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
He took a step forward.
"Vanessa?"
She suddenly looked furious.
"I am tired of being interrogated!"
She climbed into the SUV.
"Get in, Maya!"
Maya hesitated, then obeyed.
The vehicle sped down my driveway.
My father watched it disappear.
He looked like a man waking from a long nightmare.
"She lied to me."
I answered quietly.
"She lied to all of us."
An hour later, Eleanor arrived with a leather briefcase.
She was a dignified woman in her early sixties, with silver-streaked braids and watchful eyes.
She hugged me.
Not politely.
Not briefly.
She held me like someone who had been waiting years.
"You look so much like Elizabeth," she whispered.
I began crying.
She let me.
Then she sat with my father and me in the living room.
We spread the contents of the metal box across the table.
Eleanor inspected the trust papers.
The notebook.
The photograph.
And the recording.
When she finished, her face had become grave.
"The originals appear consistent with the copies in my office. But we need proper verification."
My father nodded.
"What happens now?"
"First, we secure the trust records. Then we investigate any unauthorized transfers."
I leaned forward.
"And my mother's accident?"
Eleanor opened her briefcase.
She removed a thin folder.
Inside was a photocopy of an old invoice.
Across the bottom was a company name.
Vantage Consulting Services.
I stared at it.
"What's this?"
"One of the companies Elizabeth was investigating."
My father frowned.
"I've never heard of it."
Eleanor turned the page.
"Your grandfather believed the company was connected to someone who later entered your family."
I looked at her.
"Vanessa?"
Eleanor didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she pointed to a signature on an old registration document.
Vanessa Carter.
Her maiden name.
My father's face went white.
Eleanor spoke carefully.
"She was listed as an authorized manager years before she married Marcus."
I stared at the paper.
May you like
Then at my father.
Because suddenly, the woman who had spent years telling me my mother was gone and her daughter deserved everything seemed connected to the very mystery my mother had been trying to solve before she died.
