Chapter 4: The Notebook That Could Destroy a Billionaire
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Oliver's phone continued vibrating in his small hands.
The message remained on the screen.
*We know where the notebook is.*
Margaret took the phone from him and read it twice.
"Don't answer," she said.
Oliver looked frightened.
"Grandma, how do they know?""
"I don't know, sweetheart.""
I took the phone and checked the number. It was blocked, with no identifying information.
"How long have you had the notebook?"" I asked.
"Since Mom died.""
"Has anyone ever asked you about it?""
Oliver nodded slowly.
"One man came to our apartment last month. He said he was from the foundation. He wanted to give Grandma some paperwork.""
Margaret's expression changed.
"What man?""
"I don't know his name. He wore glasses and had a little scar here.""
Oliver touched the left side of his chin.
Margaret looked at me.
"That sounds like Adrian's assistant.""
"Why would he visit your apartment?""
"He claimed he was delivering a condolence letter," Margaret replied.
"I wasn't home. Oliver answered the door.""
Oliver lowered his eyes.
"He asked if Mom left anything behind.""
My stomach tightened.
"And what did you tell him?""
"I said no.""
"Good.""
"But he looked inside the apartment before he left.""
Margaret closed her eyes.
"Oh, Oliver.""
The boy looked close to tears.
"I didn't know he was bad.""
I crouched in front of him.
"You didn't do anything wrong. Remember that.""
He nodded.
Then I stood and looked at Margaret.
"We need to get the notebook before they do.""
She checked her watch.
"It's almost one in the morning. We should go straight to my house.""
"No," I said.
"If someone knows where it is, going there without checking could be exactly what they want.""
Margaret studied me.
"Then what do you suggest?""
"First, we contact the police. We give them the threatening messages, the video, and the photograph. Then we ask for an escort.""
Emily nodded.
"And we tell them about the clinic surveillance.""
Margaret hesitated.
"There's something else you should know.""
She reached into her handbag and removed an old envelope.
"I received this from Rachel three days before she died.""
I stared at the envelope.
"Why didn't you mention it earlier?""
"Because I didn't know whether I could trust anyone connected to the foundation.""
She opened it carefully.
Inside was a handwritten note.
Margaret, if I don't make it through the surgery, please protect Oliver. The notebook contains the names, but the original records are somewhere else. Robert Hayes hid them before he died. Daniel may know where to look, even if he doesn't remember.
I read the last sentence again.
"Even if I don't remember?""
Margaret nodded.
"Rachel believed your father had left something with your family.""
I thought about my childhood.
Our small house.
My father's old office.
The locked wooden cabinet my mother never allowed us to open.
After Dad died, she'd told me the cabinet contained nothing important.
Years later, when she sold the house, she'd said she'd thrown away most of his old paperwork.
But I suddenly remembered something.
A brass key.
My father had kept it on a leather keychain.
He used to let me hold it when I was little, telling me it opened a door to something important.
I hadn't seen it in years.
"Emily," I said quietly.
"What?""
"Do you remember Dad's old keychain?""
She frowned.
"The one with the little brass key?""
"Yes.""
"Mom kept it in her jewelry box after he died.""
My heart began pounding.
"Where is it now?""
"I don't know. Maybe she still has it.""
I pulled out my phone and called our mother.
It rang six times.
Then she answered.
"Daniel? It's one in the morning. What's happened?""
"Mom, I need you to answer something.""
Her voice immediately changed.
"Are you hurt?""
"Yes, but I'm okay. I need to ask about Dad.""
There was a pause.
"What about him?""
"Do you still have his brass key?""
Silence.
Not the ordinary silence of someone trying to remember.
A different kind.
The kind that suggested she'd been expecting the question for years.
Finally, she whispered, "Who told you about that key?""
I looked at Margaret.
"Mom, what does it open?""
Her breathing became uneven.
"Daniel, where are you?""
"At the hospital.""
"Are you alone?""
"No.""
"Who is with you?""
"Emily, Margaret Bennett, and her grandson.""
Another pause.
Then my mother said something I would never forget.
"Do not let Marcus Reed know you have that key.""
I felt cold.
"Mom, what do you know?""
She started crying.
"I should have told you a long time ago.""
"Then tell me now.""
"Your father didn't die because his car lost control.""
Emily covered her mouth.
I gripped the phone.
"What?""
"He called me that night. He said someone was following him. He told me to take you and Emily somewhere safe.""
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
"I did!""
Her voice broke.
"Daniel, I went to the police. They told me his car had crashed, that there was nothing suspicious, that I should stop making accusations.""
"Who told you that?""
"I don't remember his name. But two days later, Marcus Reed came to our house.""
I closed my eyes.
"What did he want?""
"He brought flowers. He told me your father had been under pressure and that he was sorry.""
"And?""
"He asked whether Robert had left anything behind.""
I looked at the photograph in my hand.
The three men.
My father.
Marcus.
Adrian.
"Mom, did you give him anything?""
"No.""
"Did he search the house?""
She hesitated.
"He asked to see your father's office. I refused. But after he left, I found the cabinet open.""
My throat tightened.
"Did anything disappear?""
"Your father's old files. His notebooks. His briefcase.""
I looked at Margaret.
She was watching me carefully.
"Mom, what about the key?""
"I kept it. Your father told me never to throw it away.""
"Where is it?""
"In the house.""
"Which house?""
"Our old house.""
I froze.
"Mom, you sold that house twelve years ago.""
"I know.""
"Then how can the key still be there?""
She whispered, "Because I never gave the new owner the key to your father's basement office.""
I stared at the hospital wall.
The old house had been renovated.
The basement had been sealed after the sale because of a structural problem.
I remembered the locked door at the bottom of the stairs.
My father had always told us not to open it without him.
"Mom, who owns the house now?""
"I don't know.""
I looked at Margaret.
She was already searching something on her phone.
Then my mother spoke again.
"Daniel, there's one more thing.""
"What?""
"Before your father left that night, he told me Marcus wasn't the person I should fear most.""
I swallowed.
"Who was?""
She whispered a name.
"Adrian Cole.""
The call suddenly disconnected.
I tried calling back.
No answer.
Then Margaret's phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
Her expression changed.
"That's the police.""
She answered.
"Hello?""
A man's voice spoke loudly enough for me to hear.
"Mrs. Bennett, we've received a report of a possible break-in at your residence.""
Margaret stood completely still.
"What?""
"Your front door has been forced open. Officers are on their way.""
Oliver began crying.
"Grandma?""
Margaret pulled him close.
Then the officer added one more detail.
"Ma'am, the person who called reported that someone was searching for a black notebook.""
I looked at Oliver.
May you like
The notebook was at home.
And someone had already entered the house.
