Chapter 8
I called 911.
No hesitation.
No family privacy.
No fear of scandal.
No protecting anyone.
I sent the photograph to police, Claire, and Daniel.
Within twenty minutes, detectives were at my house.
The lead investigator was Detective Marcus Bell, a calm man in his fifties who spoke softly and watched everything.
He studied the photo.
“Do you recognize the room?”
“No.”
Daniel leaned over it.
“Maybe.”
I turned.
“What?”
“The wall.”
Behind Rebecca was dark wood paneling and a narrow brass strip.
“I’ve seen that somewhere.”
“Where?”
He enlarged the image.
Then his face changed.
“My grandfather’s old lake house.”
I stared at him.
“That was sold.”
“No. The main property was sold. There was a caretaker’s cottage on a separate parcel.”
“Who owns it?”
Daniel looked sick.
“Rebecca.”
Detective Bell said, “Address?”
Daniel gave it.
Officers were dispatched immediately.
The cottage was ninety minutes away.
Too far.
Too many roads.
Too much time.
I called Ryan again.
Nothing.
Then, at ten-seventeen, he called me.
I answered before the first ring finished.
“Ryan?”
Breathing.
Fast.
“Emily.”
“Where are you?”
“In my car.”
“Are you safe?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is your mother?”
“She took my phone.”
“You’re calling from your phone.”
“My second one.”
I frowned.
“What second phone?”
He ignored that.
“She told me she was going to fix everything.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know. Stop lying.”
He went silent.
I stood in my father’s office, surrounded by detectives.
Daniel watched me.
Claire stood by the door.
“Ryan.”
His voice cracked.
“She planned this before the wedding.”
My heart sank.
“What?”
“The house.”
“The trust?”
“Everything.”
Diane had researched me.
Rebecca.
My father.
The estate.
The prenup.
Ryan continued.
“She thought if we got married, I could challenge the trust.”
“You knew.”
“I knew some of it.”
“How much?”
“Emily—”
“How much?”
“I knew she wanted me to marry you.”
I closed my eyes.
The room blurred.
“But did you?”
“At first, yes.”
The answer hurt more because it was immediate.
“At first?”
“I met you because of her.”
My fingers went numb.
“Our first meeting?”
“Yes.”
The charity auction.
He had bumped into me near the coat check.
Spilled sparkling water on his own jacket.
Made me laugh.
Asked for my number.
I had told that story at our wedding.
People had called it fate.
It was reconnaissance.
“How long had you been watching me?”
“Two weeks.”
I sat down.
Daniel looked like he wanted the phone.
I shook my head.
Ryan continued quickly.
“But then I actually fell in love with you.”
“Don’t.”
“It’s true.”
“You threw a broom at me.”
“I know.”
“You let your mother humiliate me.”
“I know.”
“You stole from my father’s office.”
“I didn’t steal the case.”
“Did you enter the office?”
Silence.
“Ryan.”
“Yes.”
Daniel swore.
“What did you take?”
“Photos.”
“Of what?”
“Files. Account numbers. Estate documents.”
“Did you try to access the trust?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“My mother.”
I looked at Detective Bell.
He was writing.
“Where is she now?”
“I think she’s going to the cottage.”
“Why?”
“She said Rebecca has something that can destroy the Carter family.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where are you?”
Another silence.
“Ryan?”
“I’m outside the hotel.”
“Stay there. Police are coming.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I have to find her.”
“Ryan, don’t.”
“She’s my mother.”
“And Rebecca is missing.”
“I didn’t know she’d do this.”
“You knew enough.”
His breathing became uneven.
“Emily, there’s something else.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“When we opened the red case…”
We.
He had just admitted it.
“You opened it?”
“Yesterday.”
“With Diane?”
“Yes.”
“What was inside?”
“Old ledgers. Letters. A photograph. A flash drive.”
Daniel moved closer.
“What photograph?”
Ryan heard him.
“Is Daniel there?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t trust him.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
I said, “What photograph?”
Ryan whispered,
“Your father standing beside the car the night he died.”
My throat closed.
“So?”
“He wasn’t alone.”
“Who was with him?”
Ryan hesitated.
Then answered.
“Daniel.”
Everything inside me stopped.
I looked at my cousin.
May you like
He looked back.
And for the first time in my life, Daniel Carter looked afraid of me.
