Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO WAS AFRAID TO MARRY ME
“Blake was blackmailed into marrying me?”
I heard the words leave my mouth, but they didn't sound like mine.
Miles Carter stared at the conference table.
“That's what he told me.”
I shook my head.
For one dangerous moment, I almost felt sorry for my husband.
Then I remembered our anniversary dinner.
His laughter.
The way he'd called me a pig in front of his mother and sister.
The way he'd enjoyed watching me shrink.
“No,” I said. “That doesn't explain what he did to me.”
Miles looked up.
“I didn't say it excused him.”
“Good. Because a frightened man can still choose to be cruel.”
Andrew gave a small nod.
Nolan didn't say anything.
I knew what my brother was thinking.
He'd never believed Blake was good for me.
Now even the story of how we'd met had been stripped of every innocent detail.
I sat down again.
“Tell me exactly what Rebecca threatened him with.”
Miles took a breath.
“She claimed she had the original maintenance certification bearing his signature. She said Thomas Bennett was preparing to expose the altered records.”
“Was Blake responsible for approving that truck?”
“He wasn't qualified to approve it. But he processed paperwork that allowed it to return to service.”
“Did he know the brakes were defective?”
Miles hesitated.
“He claimed he didn't.”
I looked at Andrew.
“Can we prove otherwise?”
“Possibly. We need the original certifications, their revision history, and witness testimony.”
I turned back to Miles.
“Where are those records?”
“Most were in Westbridge's archived files. Some were transferred when Redstone shut down its Austin operation.”
“Who controls them now?”
“Rebecca controls access to several private archives. The state has copies of some records, but not necessarily the earlier drafts.”
I folded my hands tightly.
“Then that's why she wanted Dad's notebook.”
“Probably.”
“And why she wanted the house.”
Miles nodded.
“She believed Thomas kept duplicate records there.”
“Did she ever find them?”
“I don't know.”
I thought about the missing page.
The hidden notebook.
My mother's ring.
There were still too many unanswered questions.
But now I understood something important.
Rebecca hadn't simply selected my husband because he was charming.
She'd chosen a man she could control.
A man whose past gave her leverage.
And then she'd turned both of us into tools.
I looked at Miles.
“Why did Blake stay married to me after he got the deed?”
He shifted in his chair.
“I can't answer that.”
I held his gaze.
“Try.”
“Rebecca was still looking for something.”
“What?”
“She kept asking whether Blake had cleared out the piano and your father's office.”
A chill moved across my shoulders.
“And Blake told her?”
“That he was working on it.”
I thought of every argument over Mom's piano.
Every time Blake complained about Dad's old books.
Every time Diane said the house looked like a museum.
They hadn't merely wanted me to move on.
They wanted my parents' memories removed.
Because somewhere among those memories was evidence.
I stood.
“I need to go home.”
Nolan immediately rose.
“I'll drive.”
But Andrew stopped us.
“One more thing, Audrey.”
He looked at Miles.
“You haven't explained the timing of the house loan.”
Miles turned pale.
Andrew placed the financing records in front of him.
“Blake didn't borrow the full amount eighteen months ago. There were additional advances. The largest came recently.”
My stomach tightened.
“How recently?”
“Six weeks ago.”
I looked at the paperwork.
Sixty-five thousand dollars.
Blake had taken additional money against the house while telling me we couldn't afford to repair the broken washing machine.
“Where did it go?”
Miles looked toward the door.
“I don't know.”
“That's not good enough,” Andrew replied.
“I didn't handle that transaction.”
“But you know where Blake's earlier business money went.”
Miles was silent.
I leaned forward.
“Was he paying Rebecca?”
Miles looked at me.
“Not exactly.”
“Then who?”
He swallowed.
“Someone who had been asking questions about the Redstone accident.”
My heart began pounding.
“Who?”
“I only know the payments were listed as information services. There was a name on an invoice, but I couldn't verify it.”
“What name?”
Miles closed his eyes.
“Patricia Wells.”
I stared at him.
The woman who'd hugged me that morning.
The woman who'd brought photographs.
The woman who had worked with Dad.
“No.”
Nolan was already pulling out his phone to check the file.
I caught his arm.
“Don't call her yet.”
He looked at me.
“Why?”
“Because if she really took money from Blake, I want to know what she was selling.”
Andrew agreed.
He asked Miles to provide the invoices, then arranged for Patricia to be interviewed with her own attorney if she wished.
Nobody accused her of anything that evening.
And I was grateful for that.
I had already learned what happened when people decided what they wanted to believe before they knew the facts.
Still, the possibility hurt.
Back at my parents' house, Nolan made sandwiches.
I sat on the kitchen floor with Mom's old calendar beside me.
When I was small, she used to write everyone's birthdays in red ink.
Mine was still there.
October 20.
Audrey's birthday.
Beneath it she'd drawn a tiny heart.
I touched the faded ink.
“Happy birthday, Mom,” I whispered.
Nolan heard me.
He came into the kitchen carrying two plates.
“I forgot what day it was.”
“You've had a few distractions.”
He placed the sandwiches on the counter.
Then he disappeared into the garage.
When he returned, he was carrying a small cardboard box.
“I bought this before everything happened.”
Inside was a birthday cake from the grocery store.
White frosting.
Pink flowers.
Happy 30th, Audrey.
The lettering was crooked.
I laughed.
Then I cried.
Nolan set the cake on the counter.
“Mom would've complained they didn't put enough flowers on it.”
I wiped my cheeks.
“She would've asked why you didn't make it yourself.”
“Because I enjoy keeping everyone alive.”
For one minute, we were children again.
Then Nolan's expression turned serious.
“I want you to know something. Even if we don't get the house back, you've still got me.”
I looked at him.
“I know.”
“And I won't disappear again.”
“You don't have to promise me that.”
“Yes, I do.”
He reached for my hand.
“And you don't have to earn it.”
I squeezed his fingers.
After dinner, we went through the storage boxes Blake had moved into the garage.
Most contained old tax records and school photographs.
Then I found a red folder I didn't recognize.
Inside were estimates for repairing the piano.
One invoice carried Rebecca's name.
Not as the customer.
As the person who had authorized the inspection.
The date was two years earlier.
I stared at it.
“Rebecca had someone examine the piano.”
Nolan came closer.
“While Blake was living here?”
“Yes.”
I remembered the day.
Blake had told me a technician was inspecting the air-conditioning system.
I'd been at work.
The invoice described a structural examination of instrument cabinet and interior compartments.
My hands turned cold.
“They were searching it.”
Nolan studied the page.
“They didn't find the notebook.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I looked toward the piano.
Then I remembered the hidden compartment Dad had shown me.
It wasn't part of the instrument's regular structure.
It was something he'd built himself.
But the invoice contained an additional note.
Customer requested examination of rear panel. Unable to complete without removing instrument from wall.
I frowned.
The piano had stood against that wall for decades.
Blake had never been able to move it.
Or so I'd believed.
Then I remembered the scratched floorboards beneath it.
I hurried into the living room.
Nolan followed.
Together, we moved the piano just far enough to see behind it.
There was a rectangular section of wood that didn't match the original back panel.
My father's work.
Nolan examined it.
“It's held with two recessed screws.”
He fetched a screwdriver.
I watched as he carefully loosened them.
Behind the panel was a shallow compartment.
Inside lay a sealed plastic pouch.
And inside that—
A small cassette tape.
A photograph.
And a folded letter addressed to me.
My father's handwriting.
I opened the letter.
My dear Audrey,
If you're reading this, then the truth has become more dangerous than I hoped.
My knees weakened.
Nolan steadied me.
I kept reading.
I have made a terrible mistake. I trusted someone who knew exactly how to use our family's love against us.
May you like
The next sentence made my blood run cold.
“Before you blame Rebecca for everything, you must understand that your mother was the one who first discovered the falsified records—and I was the one who failed to listen.”
