Chapter 5
I wanted to drive straight to the building.
I wanted to confront whoever had broken into my property.
But Olivia stopped me.
"Marcus, the police are already there."
I stared at her.
"Someone broke into my father's building."
"I know."
"And they may have been expecting my wife."
"I know that too."
She lowered her voice.
"But rushing into an active investigation won't help."
I took a breath.
She was right.
I hated it.
But she was right.
We arranged to meet the property manager and investigators later that morning.
Until then, Olivia reviewed the documents while Nia and I sat in silence.
I couldn't stop thinking about Caleb.
The hidden camera.
The mysterious messages.
The blue folder.
And the way Nia had screamed that her husband was home.
I looked at her.
She was staring at the floor.
"Nia."
She looked up.
"Yes?"
"Why did you use those exact words?"
Her expression changed.
"What?"
"When you screamed, 'My husband's home.'"
She swallowed.
"Why would you say that while lying beside me?"
Tears filled her eyes.
For a moment, she looked as though she might refuse to answer.
Then she whispered, "Because Caleb told me to."
I stared at her.
"What?"
She wiped her cheeks.
"He said that if you ever noticed him near the window, I should pretend I was confused about who my husband was."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"He thought it would distract you long enough for him to get away."
I stared at her.
"So the scream was planned?"
She shook her head.
"Not exactly. I panicked when I saw his message saying he was outside."
I took a breath.
"And you screamed the phrase he'd told you to use."
She nodded.
I felt sick.
My wife had been coached on how to make me doubt what I was seeing.
I stood and walked toward the window.
For a long time, I said nothing.
Then I turned back.
"Nia, do you understand how badly this damaged my trust?"
She began crying.
"Yes."
I shook my head.
"I don't think you do."
She covered her face.
I continued.
"You made me question whether I was safe inside my own home."
Her voice broke.
"I'm sorry."
I looked at her.
"I know."
But I couldn't offer forgiveness yet.
Not while the danger remained.
At ten o'clock, we arrived at the commercial building.
Police had already secured the basement area.
The property manager, Mr. Harris, met us near the entrance.
He looked exhausted.
"Mr. Bennett, I'm sorry."
I shook his hand.
"Tell me what happened."
He explained that the overnight guard noticed an alarm from the basement storage corridor.
When security checked the area, they found a damaged lock and signs of forced entry.
The intruder had left before officers arrived.
A phone had been found nearby.
Investigators were examining it.
I looked toward the stairwell.
"Was anything stolen?"
Mr. Harris hesitated.
"We don't know yet."
Olivia spoke.
"Has the records room been opened?"
He shook his head.
"The main vault door appears intact."
Relief washed through me.
Then he added, "But someone tried to access it."
My stomach tightened.
I followed him toward the basement after investigators cleared our entry into the nonrestricted area.
The corridor smelled of dust and old concrete.
At the far end stood a heavy metal door.
I'd seen it many times.
But I'd never understood why my father insisted it remain locked.
A small brass plaque beside the door read:
AUTHORIZED RECORDS STORAGE.
Olivia examined the door.
"Marcus, did your father leave access instructions?"
I thought for a moment.
"Maybe."
She looked at me.
"Where?"
"In his estate papers."
We returned to my office upstairs.
I opened the safe and retrieved the original property documents.
Inside was a sealed envelope bearing my father's handwriting.
I hadn't opened it.
I assumed it contained old maintenance information.
Now my hands trembled as I broke the seal.
Inside was a key.
And a handwritten note.
"Marcus,
If this room is ever accessed because someone is searching for the Ellis records, do not enter alone.
Contact Olivia Grant.
The truth inside concerns more than property.
It concerns the people whose lives were destroyed when Victor Monroe chose money over honesty.
Dad."
I stared at the note.
My father had anticipated this.
He'd known someone might eventually come looking.
I looked at Olivia.
She nodded slowly.
"We need to handle this with investigators present."
I agreed.
The key was documented.
The door was opened under appropriate supervision.
Inside were shelves of old files.
Metal cabinets.
And several locked storage boxes.
Nothing looked extraordinary.
But Olivia knew what to search for.
She directed attention toward a cabinet labeled with the old partnership name.
Inside were financial ledgers, contracts, and correspondence.
The records were carefully preserved.
I watched as investigators documented the materials.
Then Olivia pointed toward a small gray box.
"That one."
The box bore Raymond Ellis's name.
My heartbeat quickened.
Olivia looked at me.
"Marcus, your father may have preserved records Raymond wanted protected."
I swallowed.
"Can we open it?"
"With proper documentation."
The box was opened.
Inside were photographs.
Letters.
Financial records.
And a sealed digital storage device.
But one item caught Nia's attention immediately.
A small photograph of Raymond holding a baby.
Nia.
She reached toward it.
Then stopped.
Her hands trembled.
"That's me."
I looked at her.
She covered her mouth.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"My dad."
For a moment, I forgot my anger.
I moved beside her.
She leaned against me.
I didn't know whether I should hold her.
Then she whispered, "Please."
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
She cried quietly.
And despite everything she'd done, I couldn't ignore how much pain she'd carried.
Olivia carefully examined the accompanying documents.
One letter appeared to have been written by Raymond.
It was addressed to Harold Bennett.
I read the first lines.
"Harold,
If anything happens to me, please make sure Nia knows I never stopped loving her.
I didn't leave because I wanted to.
I left because Victor threatened my family.
I hope one day she understands."
Nia broke down.
I held her as she cried.
For thirteen years, she'd believed her father had abandoned her.
Now she was reading proof that he'd tried to protect her.
But the letter wasn't finished.
I continued reading.
"Victor knows that the missing funds can be traced through the original partnership records.
I have preserved copies.
If he ever comes after your family, those records may be the only way to prove what happened."
I looked toward Olivia.
Her expression was serious.
Then I read the final paragraph.
"There's one more person involved.
Someone Victor trusted enough to use as a messenger.
Someone who knows where the evidence is hidden.
His son, Caleb."
I felt cold.
Caleb wasn't simply repeating his father's threats.
He had been involved in the family secret for years.
I looked at Nia.
She stared at the letter.
Then whispered, "He knew."
I nodded.
"He knew your father was alive."
Her eyes filled with anger.
"He used that to control me."
I took a breath.
"Yes."
She wiped her cheeks.
Then looked directly at me.
"Marcus, I want to help stop him."
I studied her face.
For the first time since the bedroom confrontation, I saw something different.
Not fear.
Determination.
But before I could answer, Olivia's phone rang.
She stepped away.
When she returned, her expression had changed.
"Marcus, the investigators have received preliminary information about the phone found in the basement."
My heartbeat quickened.
"What?"
She looked toward Nia.
"The device appears connected to Caleb Monroe."
I exhaled.
Then Olivia continued.
"But there's something else."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"The phone contains messages arranging a meeting with someone claiming to have access to the Ellis records."
Nia looked confused.
"Who?"
Olivia took a breath.
"The contact name is Raymond."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Nia whispered, "My father?"
Olivia nodded cautiously.
"Possibly."
And suddenly, the most impossible possibility of all stood before us.
May you like
Raymond Ellis might not just be alive.
He might be trying to return.
