Chapter 6 - THE MESSAGE SENT FROM A DEAD MAN'S PHONE
Police placed a patrol car outside my house that night.
Lucas complained.
He said everyone at school would think he'd joined witness protection.
I told him everyone at school could think whatever they wanted as long as he came home alive.
He rolled his eyes.
That was strangely comforting.
Teenagers only roll their eyes when part of them still believes adults can keep the world under control.
I barely slept.
At seven the next morning, Samuel called.
Justin wanted to meet.
"No."
"I expected you to say that."
"Then why call?"
"Because he claims he can help identify whoever threatened Lucas."
I sat up.
"Where?"
"My office. Police present."
Lucas came downstairs while I was getting dressed.
"Where are you going?"
"Samuel's."
"Why?"
"Justin wants to talk."
His face darkened.
"The guy who fired you?"
"The very same."
"The guy accusing you of stealing?"
"Yes."
"The guy who had you almost arrested?"
"Lucas."
"I'm coming."
"No."
"Grandma—"
"No."
He looked toward the patrol car outside.
"I'm literally the safest teenager in the county."
"School."
He muttered something about dictatorship.
I kissed his forehead.
At Samuel's office, Justin looked different.
His suit was wrinkled.
Dark circles sat under his eyes.
Caroline Mercer was beside him.
Detective Ellis leaned against the wall.
Samuel closed the door.
Justin didn't apologize.
Not yet.
Instead he placed a phone on the table.
"Derek disappeared yesterday."
"We know," Ellis said.
"He took company files."
"You mean evidence."
Justin's jaw tightened.
"He also emptied an operating account."
"How much?"
"One hundred eighty thousand."
Samuel folded his arms.
"After allegedly helping you steal six hundred thousand from your father, you're upset he stole from you?"
Caroline spoke.
"My client is here voluntarily."
"Your client heard Derek suggest framing Helena and said nothing."
Justin looked at me.
"I didn't know he actually did it."
I almost laughed.
"You fired me three days before Samuel called."
"My father left you the house."
"You didn't know that officially."
His silence gave him away.
I leaned forward.
"You knew."
Justin looked down.
Samuel noticed.
"How?"
Caroline touched Justin's arm.
He ignored her.
"My father told me."
The room changed.
"When?" Samuel asked.
"Two days before he died."
My chest tightened.
Christopher had told Justin.
"He said he was changing everything."
"And then?" I asked.
"He said the mansion was going to Helena."
His voice cracked around my name as though saying it physically hurt.
"I thought he was punishing me."
"So you fired me."
"I thought if you were gone—"
"What? The will disappeared?"
"No."
Justin rubbed both hands over his face.
"I don't know what I thought."
That might have been the first truthful thing I'd heard him say.
Samuel wasn't impressed.
"Tell us about Derek."
Justin hesitated.
Then he spoke.
His real estate company had been collapsing for nearly a year.
A downtown project was over budget.
Two investors pulled out.
Justin borrowed from his father without permission, telling himself he would repay it.
Derek helped.
First fifty thousand.
Then a hundred.
Then more.
Christopher noticed.
When he revoked Justin's power of attorney, Derek suggested moving money through temporary accounts.
"One was in Helena's name?" Detective Ellis asked.
Justin stared at the table.
"I knew Derek was creating intermediary accounts."
"Did you know he used hers?"
"Not until my father found it."
"And after you found out?"
"I told Derek to close it."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You knew someone had stolen my identity."
"I thought it had been fixed."
"You thought?"
"I was trying to save my company."
"And I was collateral damage."
His eyes met mine.
"Yes."
At least he didn't lie.
Samuel's voice was cold.
"And the stolen property planted in Helena's home?"
"No."
"The anonymous threats?"
"No."
"Lucas?"
Justin looked shocked.
"I would never threaten a kid."
I wanted to believe there were lines even he wouldn't cross.
But three days earlier I would have believed he wouldn't frame an innocent woman either.
Detective Ellis asked for Derek's phone numbers, addresses, storage locations, family contacts, and company passwords.
Justin provided them.
Then he said one strange thing.
"Derek still has access to my father's old mobile account."
Samuel frowned.
"Christopher's number?"
"I kept it active because of business contacts."
My stomach tightened.
That afternoon, I returned to the mansion under court-approved temporary custodianship.
It was the first time I entered alone since Christopher's death.
The house felt hollow.
I walked through the breakfast room.
Library.
Hallway.
Study.
Dust had already begun settling on surfaces Justin's renovation crew abandoned after the injunction.
I opened the curtains.
For eighteen years, opening those curtains had been the first thing I did every morning.
Sunlight filled the room.
For a moment, I almost expected Christopher to complain that it was too bright.
Instead I heard his voice in my memory.
Morning, Helena.
I sat in his chair.
And cried.
Not because of the mansion.
Not because of money.
Because I finally understood how frightened he must have been during his final months.
His own son taking money.
His adviser lying.
His house becoming a battlefield.
And somehow, while dying, Christopher had still been worrying about Lucas and me.
I looked at the framed photograph sitting on the desk.
The frame had already given us the key.
But Christopher's note still bothered me.
Trust what can be proved.
I turned it over again.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a second layer of cardboard inside the backing.
I removed it carefully.
Another folded paper slid out.
Samuel hadn't seen it.
Three sentences.
Helena,
The truth is not all in the bank box.
If you ever need to understand why I chose you, ask Justin about the winter of 2009.
He remembers.
I stared at the note.
2009.
The year after I started working there.
Lucas had been a toddler.
Rachel was still alive.
What had happened that winter?
My phone buzzed.
I expected Samuel.
Instead the screen displayed a name I hadn't seen since March.
CHRISTOPHER WHITMORE.
I nearly dropped the phone.
Impossible.
Then I remembered Justin's warning.
The number was still active.
A text appeared.
I KNOW WHAT YOUR GRANDMOTHER DID.
Another.
COME TO THE OLD GREENHOUSE AT 7:00 IF YOU WANT PROOF.
I stared.
It wasn't meant for me.
The message began:
LUCAS.
My heart stopped.
I called him.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
I called the school.
The secretary checked.
"Lucas left campus twenty minutes ago. His grandmother picked him up."
I couldn't speak.
"I'm his grandmother."
Silence.
Then the secretary's voice changed.
"Oh."
I ran for the front door.
Outside, rain had begun falling across the estate.
In the distance, beyond the trees, stood Christopher's abandoned greenhouse.
One broken glass panel flashed beneath the gray sky.
My phone rang.
Lucas.
I answered.
"Lucas!"
He whispered.
"Grandma?"
"Where are you?"
Another voice sounded behind him.
A man's voice.
Calm.
Familiar.
"Give me the phone, Lucas."
May you like
Derek Vaughn.
Then the call went dead.
