Chapter 7: The Man Who Knew My Father’s Secret
I read Victor Hale’s messages three times before answering.
*Daniel:* If you have information about my father’s death, tell Detective Collins.
His reply arrived almost immediately.
*Victor:* I can't. Not yet. There are things you don't understand about the investigation twenty years ago.
*Daniel:* Then explain them to the police.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally, his response came through.
*Victor:* Your father didn't die because he knew too much. He died because he trusted the wrong person.
I stared at the screen until the letters blurred.
The next morning, I was supposed to meet Eleanor Brooks at the old municipal records building with Detective Collins. Victor was asking me to meet him privately before that appointment.
Every instinct told me not to go.
But if Victor knew something about my father's death, I couldn't afford to ignore it.
I called Detective Collins.
She listened while I read the messages aloud.
"Don't meet him alone," she said immediately.
"I wasn't planning to.""
"Good. Forward the messages to me. I'll arrange for an officer to remain nearby if you decide to speak with him.""
"Do you think he was involved?""
"I think people who say they can't tell the truth until you meet them privately usually have a reason for wanting to control the conversation.""
I couldn't disagree.
She paused.
"Daniel, remember something. You don't owe Victor Hale your trust just because he helped expose the forged documents.""
"I know.""
"And if he gives you evidence, don't take it away from the meeting. Let us document it.""
"I understand.""
After the call, I forwarded her the messages.
Then I sent Victor a single reply.
*Meet me at the coffee shop across from the municipal building at 9:00 a.m. Public place. Detective Collins will know where I am.*
His response came seconds later.
*Agreed. Come alone.*
I didn't answer.
At eight-thirty, Emily drove me toward downtown. My jaw still ached, and the bruise along my cheek had turned a deep purple. She'd barely slept, and every time we stopped at a traffic light, she checked the mirrors.
"You're sure about this?"" she asked.
"No.""
"That's reassuring.""
"Victor knows something. I need to hear what he has to say.""
"Then hear him with the police there.""
"They'll be nearby.""
She glanced at me.
"Daniel, Dad spent his entire life telling us that people reveal themselves when they think nobody is watching. Don't let Victor convince you that you have to choose between getting answers and protecting yourself.""
I smiled faintly.
"You sound like him.""
"Someone has to. You clearly inherited his habit of walking into trouble.""
She pulled into a parking space outside the coffee shop.
Before I got out, she caught my hand.
"If anything feels wrong, leave.""
"I will.""
"And call me.""
"I will.""
She held my gaze for another second.
"Promise.""
"I promise.""
Inside, the coffee shop was nearly empty. A barista wiped down the counter while an older man read a newspaper beside the window.
I chose a table facing the entrance.
At 8:57, Victor walked in.
He wore the same charcoal suit he'd worn at the gala, but his tie was loosened, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. He carried no briefcase.
He looked like a man who hadn't slept.
"Daniel," he said.
I gestured toward the chair.
"Sit down.""
He ordered black coffee, waited until the barista moved away, then leaned forward.
"First, I need you to understand something. I didn't know Kayla was planning to frame you.""
"That's convenient.""
"I know how it sounds.""
"You helped expose the forged guarantee. You also knew about the money transfers. Now you're telling me you know something about my father's death. How much are you involved in this?""
Victor lowered his eyes.
"More than I should have been.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What does that mean?""
He looked toward the window.
"Twenty years ago, I was a junior accountant for Reed Development. Your father was my supervisor.""
I already knew that much from Eleanor.
"Continue.""
"He discovered irregular payments in a public housing project. I helped him trace them. We found money moving through shell companies, with false invoices making it appear that construction materials had been purchased.""
"Who was taking the money?""
"At first, we thought it was one of the senior executives. Then we found transfers approved through a private account controlled by someone much closer to the project.""
"Marcus Reed?""
Victor shook his head.
"Marcus was involved, but he wasn't the person your father trusted most.""
I leaned forward.
"Who was?""
Victor wrapped both hands around his coffee cup.
"Your father's closest friend at the company was a man named Richard Cole. He'd worked with your father for fifteen years. Richard helped him gather the records and promised to deliver copies to an investigator.""
"What happened?""
"Richard disappeared with the original ledger.""
I stared at him.
"Eleanor said someone betrayed my father.""
"Richard was the first person we suspected. But we never found him, and the investigation collapsed.""
"Why didn't my father go to the police?""
"He did. But by then, the key documents were missing, witnesses had changed their statements, and the company claimed the payments were legitimate consulting fees.""
I thought of the letter in my father's study.
The person responsible was someone he trusted.
"Did my father know Richard had betrayed him?""
Victor nodded.
"He discovered it a few days before he died.""
The coffee shop suddenly felt too warm.
"How?""
"Your father found a bank transfer connected to Richard's personal account. He confronted him. They argued in the office parking garage.""
"And then my father had a heart attack?""
Victor's expression tightened.
"That's what the medical report said.""
"You're avoiding the question.""
"I'm telling you what I know.""
I leaned back.
"Then tell me why you contacted me.""
Victor reached into his jacket and removed a folded sheet of paper.
He slid it across the table.
It was a photocopy of an old email.
The date was three days before my father's death.
The sender was Richard Cole.
The recipient was Victor Hale.
The subject line read: *The Hayes Problem.*
I began reading.
Your supervisor has discovered the transfer. He believes the evidence is still recoverable. Keep him occupied until Friday. After that, Marcus will handle the rest.
Below it was Victor's reply.
I don't want anyone hurt.
Richard's response was chillingly brief.
Then make sure he stops looking.
I looked up.
"You received this?""
Victor nodded.
"I was twenty-seven. I was terrified. Richard told me the company would destroy my career if I spoke up. He said your father was unstable and that Marcus had lawyers who could make us both look guilty.""
"So you stayed quiet.""
"Yes.""
"You let my father die without telling anyone what you knew.""
Victor flinched.
"I've regretted it every day.""
"Regret doesn't bring him back.""
"No. It doesn't.""
I pushed the paper away.
"Why didn't you give this to the police twenty years ago?""
"Because the email disappeared from the company server, and I kept the printout hidden. I was afraid I'd be accused of helping Richard. I had a family, a mortgage, and a career I thought I couldn't afford to lose.""
"And now?""
"Now Kayla has used the same methods against you. The forged guarantee, the shell company, the pressure to sign. I recognized the pattern.""
I studied him.
"Why didn't you tell the police at the gala?""
"I was trying to confirm that the old records still existed. I didn't know whether Eleanor had preserved them.""
"She has.""
Victor's eyes widened.
"You spoke to her?""
"Last night.""
He looked genuinely alarmed.
"Then we have a problem.""
"What problem?""
"Richard Cole isn't missing anymore.""
The room seemed to go silent around us.
"Where is he?""
Victor swallowed.
"He's the chairman of Northbridge Solutions.""
The same company that had received the foundation's missing funds.
The same company tied to the forged guarantee.
I felt my hands curl into fists.
"You're telling me Richard has been working with Marcus this whole time?""
"Not openly. Northbridge was established through intermediaries. But I recognized the registration details when I reviewed the transaction.""
"Who else knows?""
"Marcus. Kayla. And probably Victor Sloane.""
"Probably?""
Victor looked down.
"I don't have proof of Sloane's involvement in the original fraud.""
"But you have proof he helped frame me.""
"I have evidence linking him to the forged settlement and the property acquisition.""
"Then give everything to Detective Collins.""
"I will.""
"When?""
Victor hesitated.
"After I secure my family.""
I stared at him.
"Your family?""
"My wife received a photograph of our daughter leaving school yesterday. There was a message on the back of the envelope.""
"What did it say?""
"Stop investigating the Reed accounts.""
The anger inside me cooled into something more dangerous.
"Did you tell the police?""
"Not yet.""
"Why?""
"Because I don't know who I can trust.""
I stood.
"Then you should start by telling the truth to the people who can protect you.""
Victor caught my wrist.
"Wait.""
I pulled free.
He took a breath.
"There's one more thing. Richard Cole has been trying to obtain your father's property for years. The forged guarantee wasn't just about the land. It's about whatever your father hid before he died.""
I stared at him.
"What's in the ledger?""
Victor's voice dropped.
"Payments to officials, judges, investigators, and people who helped bury the original case.""
"Names?""
"Names. Account numbers. Dates. Everything.""
"And the ledger could prove who ordered my father's death?""
"It could establish a connection between Richard, Marcus, and the payments made immediately before your father's death.""
I looked toward the window.
A black sedan had pulled up across the street.
Two men sat inside.
One was looking directly at us.
Victor followed my gaze.
His face went pale.
"We need to leave.""
"Who are they?""
"I don't know.""
He grabbed his coffee and stood too quickly, knocking the chair backward.
The barista looked up.
"Sir, is everything okay?""
Victor didn't answer.
He hurried toward the rear corridor.
I remained by the table, watching the sedan.
The passenger lifted a phone and took a picture through the window.
Then the driver's door opened.
A man stepped out.
He wore a dark coat and carried a slim leather folder.
Victor saw him through the glass.
He stopped dead.
"That's Richard," he whispered.
I turned.
The man crossing the street was older than the photograph, his hair nearly white, but the face was unmistakable.
Richard Cole.
The man my father had trusted.
The man who had disappeared twenty years ago.
The man who now controlled the company that had stolen the foundation's money.
Richard entered the coffee shop without looking at the other customers.
He walked straight toward our table.
Then he placed a photograph in front of me.
It showed my father standing outside his house, holding a brown envelope.
Richard's voice was calm.
"Your father should have destroyed that ledger when he had the chance.""
May you like
He leaned closer.
"Now you're going to make the same mistake.""
