Chapter 3
I spun around.
No one stood in the doorway.
But I heard another sound.
A soft step.
Upstairs.
Lily.
I ran.
“Lily!”
I flew up the stairs two at a time.
Her bedroom door was open.
The crib was empty.
My heart stopped.
“Lily!”
Then I heard crying from the bathroom.
I pushed the door open.
My daughter sat on the floor.
Our neighbor, Mrs. Parker, crouched beside her.
“Emily!”
I grabbed Lily.
“What are you doing here?”
Mrs. Parker looked terrified.
“Your back door was open. I saw a man leave.”
“What man?”
“I couldn’t see his face. He had a baseball cap.”
I looked at Lily.
She was unharmed.
But beside the crib, her mattress had been pulled up.
Drawers were open.
Someone had searched her room.
Not taken her.
Searched.
For what?
I called police again.
Then I remembered the folder and flash drive downstairs.
I rushed back to the study.
The safe was open.
The folder was still there.
The flash drive was gone.
“No.”
I searched the floor.
Nothing.
Whoever entered had known exactly what to take.
When Officer Martinez returned, I told him everything.
“The intruder ignored valuables?”
“Yes.”
“Only took the flash drive?”
“Yes.”
“What was on it?”
“I don’t know.”
He looked at my father’s letter.
“Your father warned you about your attorney?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca was still calling.
I hadn’t answered again.
Martinez asked, “Why would she know someone entered your house?”
I froze.
Rebecca had said someone just entered your house.
Before I told her.
“How did she know?”
Exactly.
I called her with the officer beside me.
Rebecca answered immediately.
“Emily, are you safe?”
“How did you know someone was inside?”
Silence.
“Rebecca?”
“Your security company contacted me.”
“My security company doesn’t have your number.”
Another silence.
Then she sighed.
“Emily, we need to meet.”
“No.”
“This is bigger than Ryan.”
“I figured that out.”
“Your father was involved in something before he died.”
“What?”
“I can’t discuss it over the phone.”
I looked at Martinez.
He shook his head slightly.
“Then come to the police station.”
Rebecca hesitated.
“I’ll meet you there.”
She never came.
Two hours later, Martinez entered the interview room.
“We went to Rebecca Cole’s office.”
“And?”
“She’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Her assistant says she left twenty minutes after your call.”
My stomach tightened.
“Her car?”
“Found abandoned downtown.”
I hugged Lily closer.
Aaron arrived that evening.
The moment I saw him, I nearly collapsed.
He wrapped his arms around me.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
He looked at Lily.
Then at the bruise-like mark left by the chain.
His jaw tightened.
“I’m going to kill Ryan.”
“No. We do this legally.”
“He put that around her neck.”
“And I need you outside a jail cell.”
Aaron nodded, but anger burned in his eyes.
At the station, detectives questioned him about the attempted trust transfer.
He denied everything.
Then he gave them permission to search his financial accounts.
Nothing suspicious appeared.
Someone had used his identity.
When we returned home, Aaron helped install new locks.
Around midnight, Lily finally slept.
I sat at the kitchen table staring at Dad’s folder.
Inside were bank statements.
Company documents.
And photographs.
One photograph showed my father standing beside Rebecca.
Another man stood beside them.
I recognized him.
Diane’s late husband.
Ryan’s father, Thomas.
“What the hell?”
Aaron took the picture.
“Dad knew Thomas?”
“Apparently.”
We turned over the photograph.
Dad had written a date.
Seventeen years ago.
Under it were four words.
The agreement begins tonight.
“What agreement?” Aaron whispered.
I opened another document.
It was a partnership contract.
My father and Thomas had started an investment company together years before Ryan and I ever met.
Then I saw the ownership percentages.
Dad: 50%.
Thomas: 50%.
A handwritten amendment followed.
Upon Thomas Mercer’s death, his shares transfer to Charles Bennett.
My father.
Meaning Dad had owned everything after Thomas died.
Aaron scanned the bank statements.
“Emily.”
“What?”
“These numbers are huge.”
“How huge?”
“More than Lily’s trust.”
I leaned closer.
Twelve million dollars.
Then another statement.
Seven million.
Another.
Nine million.
My father hadn’t only left Lily two million.
He had controlled an investment portfolio worth nearly thirty million dollars.
“Where is it?”
Aaron whispered.
“I don’t know.”
A new message appeared on my phone.
Unknown Number: Your father stole what belonged to us.
Then another.
Unknown Number: Ryan was supposed to marry you, take Lily, and bring it home.
I stared at the words.
May you like
My marriage had not been a marriage.
It had been part of a plan.
