Chapter 11 - THE TRUTH MY FATHER BURIED
For several seconds after Julian hung up, nobody moved.
My mother was holding Noah.
My father stood beside the table.
Richard was staring at the floor.
And I was still holding the phone.
"Is he bluffing?" I asked.
My father didn't answer.
"Is he?"
"No."
My stomach dropped.
"You know where Julian is?"
"Yes."
"Then call him."
"I can't."
"Why?"
My father looked at Richard.
"Because Julian isn't alone."
Richard finally spoke.
"He's with Victoria."
I looked at him.
"She left the wedding."
"She didn't leave."
Richard's voice was quiet.
"She was taken."
"What?"
"After she slapped Julian, two men from the firm moved her into a private car."
"Whose men?"
Richard didn't answer.
My father did.
"Mine."
I stared at him.
"You kidnapped her?"
"No."
"Then where is she?"
"Safe."
I almost laughed.
"Everyone keeps telling me people are safe while threatening my family."
My father walked toward me.
"Claire, listen carefully."
"No."
I stepped back.
"You don't get to tell me to listen."
"You need to."
"You disappeared for six years."
"I was protecting you."
"You lied about being dead."
"Yes."
"You let me bury an empty coffin."
His eyes filled with tears.
"I know."
"You let me raise Noah believing his grandfather was gone."
"I know."
"You watched while Julian destroyed my marriage."
My father lowered his head.
"I know."
I pointed toward him.
"You don't get to call that protection."
He looked at Noah.
"No. I don't."
The room became silent.
Then my mother spoke.
"Your father made a terrible mistake."
She looked at me.
"But he wasn't the one who started this."
"Then who did?"
She looked toward Richard.
Richard said nothing.
My father opened the folder again.
"There were three accounts."
He pointed to the documents.
"The first belonged to the company."
"The second belonged to the trust."
"And the third?"
He looked at me.
"Your mother."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"Before she disappeared, your mother moved something."
"What?"
"Evidence."
My mother nodded.
"I copied everything."
"Everything about Richard?"
"Richard. Julian. Grant Hale."
I froze.
"Grant?"
My mother looked at me.
"Victoria's father."
I remembered the photograph.
The bank.
Julian.
Grant.
My father's expression became darker.
"Grant wasn't just Victoria's father."
"Who was he?"
"He was the person moving the money."
Richard suddenly laughed.
My father turned.
"What's funny?"
"You're still blaming Grant."
"You worked with him."
"Yes."
"And then he died."
"Yes."
Richard's smile disappeared.
"And now you're blaming a dead man."
He looked at me.
"That's exactly what they want you to believe."
I felt a chill.
"Who?"
Richard didn't answer.
My father walked toward him.
"Tell her."
Richard stared at me.
Then said:
"Grant Hale didn't die six months ago."
My blood froze.
"Then where is he?"
Richard looked at the window.
"That's the problem."
He whispered:
"We don't know."
---
That night, we moved my mother and Noah into a safe room beneath the house.
My father gave me a gun.
I refused to take it.
"I don't want to become someone who solves problems with a gun."
He nodded.
"Good."
Then he gave me something else.
A small key.
"What is this?"
"Your wedding ring."
I frowned.
"My ring?"
"The original."
I looked at him.
"What does that mean?"
"The ring Julian gave you wasn't the ring your grandfather purchased."
I stared.
My father continued:
"Your grandfather hid something inside the original."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"Then why give me the key?"
"Because the ring is still in your old house."
The house where Julian and I had lived.
The house he had kept after the divorce.
I stared at the key.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
COME ALONE.
A second message appeared.
BRING THE KEY.
Then a third.
May you like
AND DON'T TRUST YOUR FATHER.
---
