Chapter 8
The first month after the trial was the strangest month of my life.
I was supposed to feel happy. Relieved. The man who’d destroyed my family was gone forever. I had my daughter back. I had my money back. I had a new family—Clara, Jake, Mia—who loved me.
But I didn’t feel happy. I felt empty.
For eleven years, my whole life had revolved around Ryan. Even after I found out who he really was, my life was still about him. Fighting him. Proving he was a liar. Making him pay.
Now that he was gone, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I’d wake up in the middle of the night, expecting to hear him in the kitchen. I’d reach for the gun on my nightstand before I remembered he was in a maximum-security prison two hundred miles away.
Lila was having a hard time too.
She’d stopped talking about Ryan. But she’d started having nightmares. She’d wake up screaming, saying he was standing over her bed. She refused to sleep alone. She slept in my bed every night, curled into my side, her rabbit pressed to her face.
Jake and Mia were doing better. They’d started at a new school in Fort Worth. They’d made friends. Jake had joined the baseball team. Mia was taking dance classes. They rarely mentioned Ryan. But I’d catch Jake sometimes, sitting alone on the porch, staring at nothing. I knew he was thinking about his dad.
Clara and I bought the ranch together. We fixed it up. We painted the kids’ rooms bright colors. We built a pool in the backyard. We got two dogs—a golden retriever named Daisy and a rescue mutt named Max.
We tried to build a normal life.
But normal was hard.
One day, I was cleaning out the attic of the ranch when I found an old box. It had my parents’ names on it. I opened it.
Inside were old photos. Letters. My mom’s wedding dress. My dad’s old baseball glove.
And a letter. Addressed to me. Dated the day before they died.
My hands shook as I opened it.
*My dearest Emily,*
*If you’re reading this, it means something terrible has happened to us. We’re so sorry, baby. We never wanted to leave you.*
*There are some things you need to know. The oil business is dangerous. There are people who will do anything to get what we have. If anything happens to us, don’t trust anyone. Not even the people who say they’re our friends. Go to Arthur Crawford. He’s the only man we trust completely. He’ll take care of you.*
*And one more thing. If you ever get married—if you ever find a man you love—make sure you know who he really is. Don’t make the mistake of trusting too easily. We only want what’s best for you. We want you to be happy. We want you to be safe.*
*We love you more than words can say. We’ll be watching over you, always.*
*Love,*
*Mom and Dad*
I sat on the floor of the attic and cried for an hour.
They’d known. They’d known something was going to happen to them. They’d tried to warn me.
I’d ignored every warning sign. I’d married Ryan anyway.
But they’d been right about Crawford. He’d taken care of me. Just like they’d asked.
That night, I called Crawford. I thanked him. For everything.
“Your parents were my best friends,” he said. “I promised them I’d look after you. I’m just glad I could keep that promise.”
A week later, we got a letter from the prison.
Ryan wanted to see me.
He’d written a four-page letter, begging me to come. He said he needed to apologize. That he had things he needed to tell me about Lila. About my parents. That he couldn’t die in peace until he’d talked to me face to face.
Clara told me not to go.
“He’s just trying to mess with your head. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
Crawford agreed. “He has nothing to say that you need to hear. Let him rot.”
But I couldn’t stop thinking about the letter.
What if he did have something to tell me? What if there was more to my parents’ death? What if there were other victims? Other women I didn’t know about?
I decided to go.
I drove two hours to the maximum-security prison in Huntsville. I sat in the visiting room, behind a thick sheet of bulletproof glass, waiting for him.
When they brought him in, he looked even worse than he had at the trial. He’d lost more weight. His hair was graying. He had a tattoo on his neck—an ugly swastika. He’d joined a gang in prison.
He sat down across from me. He picked up the phone.
“Emily. You came. I knew you would.”
“I’m only here because you said you had something to tell me about my parents. Say it. I don’t have all day.”
He smiled. The same old charming smile. It didn’t reach his eyes anymore. His eyes were dead.
“You always were too smart for your own good. That’s why I picked you, you know. Most women, they believe anything you tell them. But you… you were a challenge. I almost didn’t get away with it.”
“Stop talking. Tell me what you wanted to say.”
“Your parents.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I didn’t act alone.”
I froze. “What?”
“I was twenty-five. I didn’t know how to rig a car. I didn’t know how to make it look like an accident. Someone helped me. Someone who knew your parents very well. Someone who stood to gain a lot from their deaths.”
“Who?”
He laughed. “You think I’m just going to tell you? No. That’s not how this works. You want the name? You have to do something for me first.”
“I’m not doing anything for you.”
“Even if it means the man who killed your parents is still out there? Still free? Still living off your family’s money?”
My heart was pounding. It was a trick. It had to be a trick. But what if it wasn’t?
“What do you want?”
“Lila. I want to see her. Just once. For five minutes. No glass. No guards. Just me and my daughter. If you let me see her, I’ll tell you everything. Names. Dates. Everything.”
I stared at him.
He wanted to be alone with my eight-year-old daughter.
“No.” I stood up. “You’re never going to see her again. Never. You can rot in here with your secrets for all I care.”
I turned to walk away.
“CRAWFORD!” he yelled after me.
I stopped. I turned around.
“What did you say?”
“Arthur Crawford.” Ryan was smiling. “He’s the one who helped me. He’s the one who rigged the car. He’s been stealing from your family for forty years. You think he’s been helping you out of the goodness of his heart? He’s been using you. Just like I did. Just like everyone does.”
I stared at him. My blood ran cold.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I? Ask him about the twenty million dollars he transferred to a Swiss bank account the week after your parents died. Ask him why he waited eleven years to tell you who I really was. Ask him why he didn’t stop me sooner. He was getting a cut. Fifty-fifty. We were partners.”
I didn’t say another word. I hung up the phone and walked out.
I drove home in a daze.
Ryan was a liar. He was a con man. He’d lie about anything to get what he wanted.
But what if he was telling the truth?
Crawford had been the only person my parents trusted. He’d been like family to me. He’d helped me through the trial. He’d saved Lila.
But Ryan was right about one thing. Why had he waited eleven years? Why had he let Ryan steal forty million dollars before he did anything?
When I got back to the ranch, I went straight to Crawford’s office. He was there, going through some papers.
He looked up and smiled. “How did it go? What did he want?”
I closed the door behind me.
“Who killed my parents, Arthur?”
His smile faded. “What?”
“Ryan said you helped him. He said you rigged the car. That you’ve been stealing from my family for forty years. That you and he were partners.”
Crawford stood up. His face was red with anger.
“That lying son of a bitch. How dare he? I’ve spent my whole life protecting your family. I loved your parents like they were my own brother and sister.”
“Then why did you wait eleven years to tell me who Ryan was? Why did you let him steal forty million dollars?”
“Because I didn’t know! I had no idea he was using the name Ryan Carter until a year ago. I was investigating some irregularities in the trust. That’s when I found him. I moved as fast as I could. If I’d moved sooner, he would have run. I had to wait until I had enough evidence to put him away for good.”
He walked around the desk and stood in front of me.
“Emily, look at me. Would I have put my own life on the line to protect you and Lila if I was working with him? Would I have let him go to prison for life if I was getting a cut? Think about it.”
I looked into his eyes. I’d known this man since I was a baby. He’d walked me down the aisle at my wedding. He’d held Lila the day she was born.
But Ryan had looked me in the eyes every day for eleven years and lied.
Anyone could lie.
“I need proof,” I said. “I want to see all the trust records. All the bank statements. Every transaction for the last twenty years. If you have nothing to hide, you won’t mind.”
Crawford stared at me for a long time. Then he nodded.
“Of course. Whatever you need. I’ll have my assistant bring everything over tomorrow.”
He walked out of the office.
I stood there, alone. I didn’t know who to believe anymore.
Ryan? Or the man who’d been like a father to me?
May you like
One of them was lying.
And I was going to find out who.
