Chapter 7: The Woman Behind My Father's Death
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Margaret's voice trembled through the phone.
"Are you still there, Cedric?""
I tightened my grip.
"Yes. Tell me exactly what happened to my father.""
"I can't explain everything over the phone. Richard has people watching me. I need you to come to Ohio.""
"Where are you?""
"An old farmhouse outside Dayton. I'll send you the address.""
I glanced at Eleanor.
She was standing beside the conference table, watching me with an expression I couldn't read.
"Margaret," I continued, "you said someone else was stealing from the company. Who?""
She hesitated.
"Someone your father trusted more than anyone.""
"Who?""
Before she could answer, I heard a loud crash.
Then a man's voice.
"Margaret! Open the door!""
Her breathing became frantic.
"He's here.""
"Who's there?""
"One of Richard's men.""
"Call the police!""
"No, Cedric. Listen to me. Your father left something in the warehouse.
Something that proves everything. But don't let Eleanor—"
The call disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
"Margaret?""
Nothing.
I called back.
Straight to voicemail.
Naomi stepped closer.
"What happened?""
"Someone found Margaret.""
Eleanor immediately reached for her handbag.
"We need to leave.""
I turned toward her.
"Why?""
"Because if Richard knows Margaret has contacted you, he'll try to get to the warehouse before we do.""
I stared at her.
"How do you know that?""
She paused.
"Because I know Richard.""
"That's not good enough anymore.""
Her face tightened.
"Cedric, I understand that you don't trust me, but your father trusted me with his life.""
I looked at the letter.
Listen to her. But don't let her make decisions for you.
My father's words suddenly felt like a warning.
"I'll decide where we go.""
I turned toward Naomi.
"Get your things. We're going to Ohio.""
Eleanor objected immediately.
"You can't take her.""
I frowned.
"Why?""
"Because Xavier knows her. He knows she has the documents.""
Naomi stepped forward.
"I know more than either of you think.""
Eleanor looked at her.
Naomi continued.
"Xavier told me something last night. He said Richard had been searching for a woman named Margaret for years. He said she was the only person who could destroy his father.""
I looked at Eleanor.
She didn't seem surprised.
That frightened me more than anything.
"What aren't you telling us?""
Eleanor sighed.
"Your father's death was investigated as an accident. His car went off the road during a storm. The police found no evidence of foul play.""
"Margaret says he was murdered.""
"Margaret blamed Richard from the beginning.""
"Why?""
"Because she believed someone tampered with his vehicle.""
I stepped closer.
"Did you believe her?""
Eleanor looked away.
"At the time, I didn't have proof.""
"Did you investigate?""
"Yes.""
"And?""
"I found nothing.""
I studied her face.
Then I asked something I had been afraid to ask.
"Did you see my father the night he died?""
Eleanor froze.
Naomi looked between us.
"Ms. Whitmore?""
Eleanor slowly sat down.
"Yes.""
The room became silent.
"When?""
"The evening before the accident.""
I felt my chest tighten.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because your father and I argued.""
"About what?""
"Richard.""
She rubbed her forehead.
"Daniel had discovered that someone inside the company was transferring money through several shell corporations. He believed Richard was responsible. I told him we needed more evidence before accusing anyone.""
"And he disagreed?""
"He said waiting would give the thief time to destroy everything.""
I looked at her.
"What happened after that?""
"He left.""
"Did you follow him?""
"No.""
"Did you speak to him again?""
Eleanor's eyes filled.
"Not before he died.""
I took a step back.
For eight years, she had allowed me to believe she had simply lost contact with my father.
But she had been the last person to argue with him.
And she had never told me.
I turned away.
"We're leaving.""
The drive to Ohio took nearly six hours.
Rain struck the windshield as we crossed the state line.
Naomi sat in the passenger seat while Eleanor followed in a separate vehicle.
For most of the journey, neither of us spoke.
Finally, Naomi broke the silence.
"Are you angry with me?""
I kept my eyes on the road.
"Does that question really matter right now?""
"I know I don't deserve forgiveness.""
"Then why ask?""
She stared out the window.
"Because I need to know whether you still see me as someone who can help.""
I gripped the steering wheel.
"You're helping because you have information. Nothing more.""
She nodded.
"I understand.""
A few miles later, she spoke again.
"Xavier told me something else.""
I glanced at her.
"What?""
"He said Richard had been paying someone to monitor your work for years.""
"Why?""
"Because he wanted to know whether your father's technology had been passed down to you.""
I frowned.
"That doesn't make sense. I never had access to the company's research.""
"Apparently, he was afraid your father had taught you more than he realized.""
I thought about the years I spent in the repair shop.
My father had taught me to recognize the sound of a failing engine, the smell of overheating components, and the tiny changes that indicated something was about to break.
He never called those lessons engineering.
He called them common sense.
But they had shaped every design I had ever created.
Naomi looked at me.
"There's one more thing.""
"What?""
"Xavier knew about your father's death before the official investigation was completed.""
My foot eased off the accelerator.
"How?""
"He told me his father had received a phone call that night. He said Richard was at the warehouse when the call came.""
I stared through the windshield.
"Did he say who called?""
Naomi shook her head.
"No. But he said his father kept repeating one sentence.""
"What sentence?""
She swallowed.
"'The old man took the evidence with him.''"
My hands tightened around the wheel.
The old man.
My father.
The evidence.
Everything was connected.
We reached Margaret's farmhouse shortly after midnight.
The property stood at the end of a narrow gravel road, surrounded by tall trees.
One upstairs light was on.
But the front door hung open.
I stopped the truck.
"Stay here," I told Naomi.
She grabbed my sleeve.
"Don't go in alone.""
I looked at her.
"Then stay behind me.""
We approached carefully.
The house smelled of wet wood and something burning.
A chair lay overturned in the hallway.
Several drawers had been emptied onto the floor.
"Margaret?"" I called.
No answer.
I moved toward the kitchen.
Then I heard a weak voice.
"Help...""
I turned.
An older woman was sitting on the floor beside the pantry.
Her silver hair was disheveled, and one sleeve of her blouse was torn.
I rushed toward her.
"Margaret?""
She looked up.
For a moment, she simply stared at me.
Then her eyes filled with tears.
"Daniel's boy.""
I knelt beside her.
"Are you hurt?""
"My shoulder.""
Naomi called emergency services.
I helped Margaret sit against the wall.
She grabbed my wrist.
"Did you bring it?""
"Bring what?""
"The letter. The one Daniel left you.""
I nodded.
She exhaled shakily.
"Good. Then there's still time.""
"Time for what?""
She looked toward the open doorway.
"To stop them from doing what they did to your father.""
I leaned closer.
"Who killed him?""
Margaret looked at Eleanor, who had just entered the house.
Her expression changed immediately.
"Why did you bring her?""
Eleanor stopped.
"Margaret, please.""
"Don't you dare speak to me.""
I stood.
"Someone needs to explain what's happening.""
Margaret shook her head.
"Your father's death wasn't about money alone. He discovered that Richard had been selling confidential safety technology to foreign manufacturers without authorization.""
I frowned.
"Why would that get him killed?""
"Because Daniel had evidence. And he was going to expose the entire operation.""
She looked directly at Eleanor.
"But he didn't know who had helped Richard.""
Eleanor's eyes filled.
Margaret continued.
"Your father discovered that the original ownership documents had been altered. He confronted the person responsible the night before his death.""
I felt my heartbeat quicken.
"Who?""
Margaret reached into her pocket and pulled out a small brass key.
"Your father left the original records in a locked cabinet at the warehouse. He told me that if anything happened to him, I should give this to you.""
I took the key.
"What cabinet?""
"Basement archive. Cabinet seventeen.""
I looked at Eleanor.
She seemed unable to meet my eyes.
Margaret gripped my arm.
"There's something else, Cedric.""
"What?""
"Your father didn't die immediately after the crash.""
My throat tightened.
"What do you mean?""
"He was taken to the hospital. Before he lost consciousness, he told the paramedics something.""
"What?""
Margaret began crying.
"He said the person responsible was someone he had loved like family.""
The room fell silent.
Then she looked at Eleanor.
May you like
And whispered:
"That's why I never trusted her again.""
