Chapter 5
Diane disappeared that night.
Police went to her apartment.
Empty.
They checked the hotel where she claimed to be staying.
She had never checked in.
Victor Hale’s house was empty too.
His phone was off.
His car was gone.
Detective Grant stopped calling this a family dispute.
“This is now a potential stalking and child-endangerment case with an explicit threat.”
Mark stared at him.
“Then arrest her.”
“We need to find her first.”
“That note is her handwriting.”
“We’re processing it.”
“You know she threatened Lily.”
“Yes.”
“So what happens while you process things?”
Grant didn’t become defensive.
He looked Mark directly in the eyes.
“You keep Lily close. We put patrols near this house. And I find your mother.”
Mark hated the answer.
So did I.
But there was nothing else to do.
The next morning, the bank called.
Detective Grant had helped move things faster through the appropriate legal channels.
Thomas Carter’s deposit box could be opened with Mark present.
Grant came with us.
Peter came too.
My parents stayed with Lily.
The bank manager took us downstairs into a private vault area.
Box 417 was longer than I expected.
The manager inserted one key.
Mark inserted Peter’s.
The drawer opened.
Inside sat a sealed brown envelope.
Nothing else.
Mark touched it carefully.
His father’s handwriting was on the front.
FOR MARK.
Mark stopped breathing.
Peter turned away.
I put my hand on Mark’s back.
“You don’t have to open it here.”
“Yes, I do.”
He tore the envelope.
Inside were several documents.
Bank statements.
Photographs.
A cassette tape.
And a handwritten letter.
Mark unfolded the letter.
His hands shook.
Son,
If you are reading this, then either I was wrong about your mother or I was right and I failed to protect you.
Mark stopped.
He wiped his eyes and continued.
For months, Diane has been transferring money from our accounts to a man named Victor Hale.
I confronted her once.
She said Victor was helping her with an investment.
It was a lie.
I discovered they have been seeing each other.
My chest tightened.
Peter whispered, “Oh God.”
Mark kept reading.
Victor knows things about people that he should not know.
Diane uses those things when she wants control.
I found photographs of Peter.
Our neighbors.
My employer.
Even you.
Mark lowered the page.
“Me?”
Grant leaned closer.
“Continue.”
There are photographs of you at school, baseball practice and friends’ houses taken when neither your mother nor I were present.
I fear they have been tracking us.
If something happens to me after I confront Diane, do not believe the easiest explanation.
I love you.
Dad.
Nobody spoke.
Mark sat heavily in the chair.
For twenty-five years, he had believed his father died in an accident.
Now Thomas’s own words suggested he had been afraid of Diane and Victor.
Grant examined the bank statements.
“These payments go back more than a year before Thomas died.”
Peter looked furious.
“She was having an affair.”
“Possibly,” Grant said.
“Possibly?”
“We prove facts.”
Mark picked up one photograph.
It showed Victor.
Younger.
Standing beside Diane in a parking garage.
The date was handwritten on the back.
Three months before Thomas’s death.
Another photograph showed Victor entering our old family home.
A week before Thomas died.
Mark pushed it away.
“Dad knew.”
Grant looked at the cassette.
“We need to have this digitized carefully.”
Mark nodded.
“What if it recorded their conversation?”
“We’ll find out.”
We left the bank with the materials secured as potential evidence.
On the drive back, Mark barely spoke.
Finally, he said, “My whole life was built on her lie.”
I looked at him.
“Your life was built on surviving her.”
“She made me feel guilty whenever I wanted independence.”
“I know.”
“When I moved to college, she called every night.”
“I remember.”
“When we got engaged, she said Dad would hate seeing me abandon her.”
I felt anger rise.
“She used a dead man against you.”
Mark stared through the windshield.
“And I let her use him against you too.”
“What?”
“Every time she said family comes first.”
I understood.
Mark had always felt responsible for Diane.
Her loneliness.
Her emotions.
Her financial problems.
Her holidays.
Her happiness.
Now he saw the machinery behind it.
At my parents’ house, Lily ran into his arms.
“Daddy!”
Mark held her longer than usual.
She laughed.
“You’re squishing me.”
“Sorry.”
He kissed her forehead.
“I missed you.”
“You were gone two hours.”
“I still missed you.”
That afternoon, Detective Grant called.
They found Diane’s car.
Abandoned at a train station.
No sign of her.
Victor’s vehicle was found at Logan Airport.
Also abandoned.
Neither appeared on passenger manifests under their real names.
“They planned this,” I said.
Grant agreed.
Then he added, “We got something from the basement camera.”
“What?”
“The account used to operate it.”
Mark grabbed the phone.
“Whose?”
“Not Diane’s.”
My stomach tightened.
“Victor?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Grant hesitated.
“The account belongs to a company.”
“What company?”
“Hale Risk Consulting.”
Victor’s business.
Mark cursed.
“But there’s more,” Grant said.
“We subpoenaed service information.”
“And?”
“The account had multiple cameras connected.”
“How many?”
“Fourteen.”
I stared at Mark.
“Fourteen?”
Grant continued.
“We only know the locations of two so far.”
“Our basement.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Diane’s apartment.”
That surprised me.
“Why would Victor record Diane?”
“We don’t know.”
Unless Diane wasn’t the only one collecting leverage.
Maybe Victor collected leverage on everyone.
Even her.
Grant said, “The camera at her apartment uploaded recently.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Can you see footage?”
“Some.”
“What’s on it?”
Silence.
Mark’s voice sharpened.
“Detective?”
“There’s a conversation between Diane and Victor.”
“About Lily?”
“About you.”
Mark went still.
“Tell me.”
“I’d rather do it in person.”
“Tell me now.”
Grant exhaled.
“In the recording, Diane says you are getting harder to control.”
Mark stared at the floor.
“And Victor?”
“He tells her fear worked on your father.”
Nobody moved.
“What else?”
“Diane says she does not want what happened to Thomas to happen again.”
Again.
My blood turned cold.
Mark whispered, “What does Victor say?”
Grant’s answer came quietly.
“He laughs.”
Mark closed his eyes.
Grant continued.
“Then he says, ‘Thomas should have listened the first time.’”
The cassette from the deposit box was digitized that evening.
Grant didn’t want us hearing it without him.
He came to the house with another detective.
Lily was upstairs watching a movie.
My parents stayed with her.
We sat around the dining table.
Grant placed a laptop between us.
“The audio quality is rough.”
Mark nodded.
“Play it.”
The recording crackled.
Then Thomas’s voice filled the room.
Older than Mark remembered.
Tired.
“Tell me how long.”
A woman answered.
Diane.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m your wife.”
“You’re sleeping with him.”
Silence.
Then Diane said, “You’ve become paranoid.”
Thomas laughed bitterly.
“Victor has been inside my house.”
“He’s helping me.”
“With what?”
“My future.”
Thomas said, “I’m taking Mark and leaving.”
Mark covered his mouth.
The recording continued.
Diane’s voice changed.
“You are not taking my son.”
“He’s scared of you.”
“He loves me.”
“He obeys you. There’s a difference.”
I looked at Mark.
Tears filled his eyes.
Thomas continued.
“I gave evidence to someone.”
Diane went silent.
“What evidence?”
“If anything happens to me—”
The recording abruptly became louder.
A chair moved.
Diane shouted, “Give me that tape!”
Then another voice entered.
Male.
Victor.
“Thomas.”
Mark stood so quickly his chair fell.
The recording continued.
Thomas sounded terrified.
“What are you doing here?”
Victor said, “We need to talk.”
The tape ended.
Just ended.
No explanation.
No fall.
No confession.
But Victor had been there.
In the Carter house.
On the night Thomas died.
And Diane had lied about it for twenty-five years.
Grant stopped the recording.
Mark stared at the laptop.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Nobody moved.
Grant held up one finger.
“Answer. Speaker.”
I did.
“Hello?”
For a second, nothing.
Then Diane’s voice.
“Emily.”
Mark lunged toward the phone.
Grant stopped him.
I forced myself to speak calmly.
“What do you want?”
“My son.”
“He doesn’t want to speak to you.”
“He doesn’t know what he wants.”
“He knows exactly what you did to Lily.”
Diane laughed softly.
“You think this is about Lily?”
I stared at Grant.
“What is it about?”
“Mark belongs with his family.”
“We are his family.”
“No.”
Her voice became colder.
“You are the reason he started asking questions.”
I realized she knew about Thomas.
“You killed him, didn’t you?”
Grant’s eyes snapped toward me.
Diane became silent.
Then she whispered, “Some questions ruin lives.”
“Did you kill your husband?”
“No.”
“Did Victor?”
Another silence.
Then Diane said something much worse.
“Ask Mark why his father was on the roof.”
The call ended.
Mark stared at me.
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer.
“Mark?”
May you like
His face had gone gray.
“Because I was up there first.”
