Chapter 4 - WHAT THEIR FATHERS LEFT BEHIND
Megan felt as if Robert had entered the room without being there.
“My father wasn't a thief.”
Nathan didn't argue.
“I didn't say he was.”
“You believed it.”
“When I was nineteen, I believed the man who raised me.”
The distinction mattered.
But it still hurt.
Victoria opened another folder.
“Then why would Patrick keep evidence defending Thomas?”
Nathan took it from her.
Inside were copies of payment records from 1998.
Money had disappeared from a municipal redevelopment project jointly managed by Thomas Cole and Patrick Walsh.
The missing funds had been blamed on Thomas.
But the ledgers showed something different.
Payments had been rerouted through Merrick Consulting.
Robert’s old company.
Megan whispered, “He framed your father.”
Nathan kept reading.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I've spent tonight learning what happens when people decide what evidence means before they finish looking at it.”
Megan hated that he was right.
They continued.
Several payments bore Patrick’s approval signature.
That was the reversal none of them wanted.
Victoria sat down.
“Megan…”
Megan stared at her father’s signature.
“No.”
Nathan compared pages.
“Your father approved transfers to Robert.”
“So he helped him.”
“Or believed the transfers were legitimate.”
Megan wanted that explanation.
Which meant she couldn't trust herself to choose it.
A smaller envelope contained an old photograph of Patrick and Thomas arguing outside Merrick Consulting.
On the back:
THREE DAYS BEFORE THOMAS DIED.
Nathan sat down slowly.
For most of his adult life, he had believed Patrick Walsh betrayed his father.
Now Patrick appeared to have been investigating the same fraud.
But why had he waited fourteen years before taking Megan to the archive?
Victoria found the answer.
A handwritten note.
R.C. STARTED AGAIN.
Same vendor structure. Same political contacts. Nathan doesn't know.
Nathan read it twice.
“Six years ago Robert restarted whatever he'd done in 1998.”
Megan understood.
“My father found out.”
“And tried to expose him.”
They returned to the estate before midnight.
Robert was waiting in the library.
Nathan placed the ledger on the desk.
Robert looked at it.
Then at Megan.
“You opened 4198.”
“Yes.”
Robert sat down.
For once, he didn't attempt to control the conversation.
Nathan pushed forward the payment records.
“Did you frame my father?”
“No.”
“Did you move the money?”
“Yes.”
Nathan’s face tightened.
Robert continued before he could speak.
“Thomas told me to.”
Silence.
Nathan looked almost offended by the absurdity.
“My father told you to steal from his company?”
“He told me to move money where certain people couldn't find it.”
“Who?”
“Men financing city contracts through organized kickbacks.”
Nathan laughed bitterly.
“So now my father was secretly fighting corruption?”
“No. Your father participated in it first.”
That answer stopped him.
Robert’s voice grew quieter.
“We all did.”
He pointed to the photograph.
“Thomas. Patrick. Me.”
Megan felt sick.
Robert explained that the municipal construction world of the late 1990s ran through favors, political donations, union arrangements and contractors who expected payment for access.
Thomas wanted to build.
Patrick wanted his electrical company to survive.
Robert knew how to make doors open.
“At first we told ourselves it was how business worked.”
“And then?” Megan asked.
“Thomas wanted out.”
Robert looked at Nathan.
“Your father realized we were becoming the people we claimed we hated.”
Thomas began documenting everything.
Patrick helped.
Robert claimed he helped too.
But before they could expose the network, Thomas died.
“Suicide,” Nathan said.
Robert looked at him.
“That was the ruling.”
“You don't believe it?”
“I haven't believed it for twenty-eight years.”
Nathan’s anger shifted.
“Then why tell me Patrick destroyed him?”
Robert’s answer was devastatingly simple.
“Because your mother asked me to.”
Nathan stared at him.
“My mother?”
“She wanted you away from all of it.”
Nathan’s mother had died eleven years ago.
There would be no convenient explanation from her.
Robert continued.
“She believed if you hated the Walsh name, you'd never go looking for Patrick.”
Megan folded her arms.
“And my father?”
“Patrick kept investigating.”
“Until the crash.”
Robert looked at her.
“Yes.”
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“Did you cause it?”
“No.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
Robert looked toward the old gold watch on Nathan’s wrist.
“Patrick called me that night. He said he finally had something that identified the person who restarted the network.”
“Who?”
“He wouldn't say over the phone.”
Robert met Megan’s eyes.
“He said he'd hidden the evidence and was bringing me the key.”
Megan touched the necklace.
“He brought me instead.”
Robert nodded.
“Someone followed you.”
“Who?”
“I never saw the driver.”
Megan remembered headlights.
Her father swerving.
Then impact.
Robert had arrived minutes later.
He pulled Megan from the wreck.
Patrick was still alive.
“What did my father say?”
Robert hesitated.
Megan slammed her palm onto the desk.
“What did he say?”
Robert’s eyes glistened.
“He told me not to take the key.”
Megan went still.
“He didn't trust you.”
“No.”
Robert accepted it.
“He said, ‘Give Megan a chance to remember on her own.’”
Nathan frowned.
“Then why does the wedding system say she must not recognize you?”
Robert looked toward Victoria.
“I told you. I didn't write that.”
Victoria had been examining one of the old ledgers.
She suddenly stopped.
“Wait.”
She placed a current wedding vendor invoice beside the 1998 records.
Same formatting.
Same numerical coding.
The modern document listed Merrick Systems.
But the authorization initials weren't Robert’s.
They were V.W.
Victoria Whitmore.
Megan stared at her.
Victoria’s face went white.
“I didn't sign this.”
Nathan picked it up.
“Those are your initials.”
“Someone used my credentials.”
Robert stood.
“That is why the wedding system exists.”
Victoria looked horrified.
Someone had been routing the operation through her identity.
Megan turned another page.
A familiar name appeared repeatedly beside equipment purchases.
WALSH CONSULTING SERVICES.
She almost laughed.
“My father has been dead six years.”
Nathan looked closer.
“No.”
He pointed to the billing address.
Megan recognized it.
It was her former home.
The house she had shared with her husband.
Her husband who had disappeared from her life a year earlier.
Nathan looked at her.
“What was your husband’s name?”
Megan could barely answer.
“Evan.”
Robert closed his eyes.
“Evan Walsh.”
Nathan noticed.
“You know him too.”
Robert opened his eyes.
“Yes.”
Megan felt the room tilt.
“How?”
May you like
Robert looked directly at her.
“Because Evan was working for me.”
