Chapter 6: The Midnight Trap
Rebecca read the message twice before placing my phone face down on the table.
"You are not going anywhere alone," she said.
"I wasn't planning to.""
"Good. Because this is either an attempt to intimidate you or an attempt to lure you into a dangerous situation.""
My mother had gone silent.
She stared at the photograph of our front door, her face drained of color.
"They know where we live," she whispered.
Daniel immediately called his security team and asked them to contact the appropriate authorities. Rebecca instructed us not to respond to the message or delete anything from my phone.
Lauren stood near the window, watching the street below.
"Marcus used to send messages like that," she said.
I turned toward her.
"What do you mean?""
"When I left him, he wanted me to believe he could reach me anywhere. He'd send photographs of places I'd visited, sometimes taken only minutes earlier. He never directly threatened me. He just made sure I knew he was watching.""
My stomach tightened.
"Did you report it?""
"I tried. But the messages came from numbers that couldn't be traced easily, and he always had an explanation ready. He said someone was trying to frame him.""
I looked at the message again.
The old Brooks warehouse.
The brass key.
The reference to my father.
It was too specific to ignore.
"Someone knows about the safety deposit box," I said.
Daniel nodded.
"Or they know enough about your father's history to make you believe the key is important.""
"What if the ledger is there?""
"Then we'll find a lawful way to retrieve it.""
I shook my head.
"Every time we wait, Marcus gets another chance to destroy evidence.""
Rebecca leaned forward.
"And every time you act without a plan, you give him another opportunity to hurt you. We need to protect you first.""
I hated hearing it.
But I knew she was right.
For the next hour, the conference room became a command center. Daniel coordinated with his legal team. Rebecca documented the message and arranged for a formal report. Lauren provided additional records from her time working with Marcus.
My mother sat beside me, rubbing her thumb over the edge of her handbag.
Eventually, she spoke.
"There's something else I need to tell you.""
I turned toward her.
"About Dad?""
She nodded.
"Three days before he died, your father came home late. He looked frightened. I'd never seen him like that.""
"What did he say?""
"He told me that if anything happened to him, I should never trust Richard Brooks.""
My heart began to pound.
"Did he explain why?""
"He said Richard had discovered that he had copied certain company records. Your father planned to take them to a lawyer.""
"Was that the ledger?""
"I think so.""
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
"I didn't know where the records were. Your father wouldn't tell me. He said the fewer people who knew, the safer we'd be.""
My mother wiped her eyes.
"On the night of the accident, he called me from work. He said he was coming home early because he had something important to tell me. But he never arrived.""
I reached for her hand.
"Mom, did you ever see the police report?""
"Yes.""
"Did anything seem strange?""
She hesitated.
"The officer told me your father's car had been found off the east road. But when I went to identify his belongings, the watch he always wore was missing.""
"Could it have been lost in the accident?""
"That's what they told me. But your father never took it off. Not even when he slept.""
I looked toward Daniel.
"Can we get the original report?""
"We can request it," he said.
"Given the age of the case, some records may be difficult to locate, but we'll try.""
My mother leaned closer.
"Nia, I don't want you chasing ghosts.""
I looked at her.
"Someone is sending us photographs of our house. Someone forged your signature. Someone has been using my identity. These aren't ghosts.""
She looked away.
"I know.""
Her voice was barely audible.
"I'm just afraid that if we find the truth, it will cost us more than we can bear.""
I didn't know how to answer.
I was afraid, too.
But the worst part was realizing that the life I'd trusted had been built on facts I hadn't known and promises that might never have been real.
At 10:47 p.m., Daniel's security director entered the room.
"Mr. Whitmore, we've received confirmation that the old Brooks warehouse is still registered to a company associated with the family.""
"Is anyone there now?"" Daniel asked.
"We don't know. The property has been vacant for several years, but the electricity was reconnected this week.""
Rebecca stood.
"That changes things.""
Daniel nodded.
"We'll notify the police and arrange for the property to be checked. Nobody enters until it's safe.""
I stared at the photograph of the warehouse address.
The building had once served as a storage facility for Brooks Urban Development. My father had worked for the company. He might have visited it regularly.
And someone wanted me there at midnight.
"Could we arrange to have the police search it tonight?"" I asked.
"That's what we're requesting," Daniel replied.
"What if the sender destroys whatever's inside?""
"Then we document that possibility and proceed as quickly as the authorities can safely act.""
I forced myself to sit still.
At 11:18 p.m., my phone vibrated again.
Another unknown number.
This time, the message contained no words.
Only a photograph.
My mother's house, taken from across the street.
A figure stood beside the magnolia tree in the front yard.
The image was blurry, but the person appeared to be wearing a dark coat.
I zoomed in.
The figure's face remained indistinct.
Then I noticed the object in their hand.
A small rectangular photograph.
I couldn't make out the picture, but the gesture was deliberate. Whoever stood in our yard wanted me to know they'd been there.
Daniel called the police again.
My mother began trembling.
"I can't go back there tonight.""
"You won't," I promised.
"We'll arrange somewhere safe for you to stay.""
She looked at me with wet eyes.
"Your father used to say that the truth was worth fighting for. But he never wanted you to fight his battles.""
I knelt beside her chair.
"Maybe not. But I won't let someone use his memory to hurt us anymore.""
At 11:36 p.m., Rebecca received a call from the officer coordinating the response.
She listened carefully, then looked at Daniel.
"The police are checking the warehouse perimeter. They haven't entered yet.""
"Any sign of activity?"" Daniel asked.
"One vehicle was seen leaving the rear access road about twenty minutes ago.""
My pulse quickened.
"Was it Marcus's car?""
Rebecca asked the officer another question.
Then she shook her head.
"They couldn't identify the driver.""
A few minutes later, Daniel's phone rang.
He listened in silence.
When he ended the call, his expression was grim.
"They found the warehouse door unlocked. There are signs someone has been inside recently.""
"Did they find the ledger?"" I asked.
"Not yet. The search is continuing.""
I stood and walked toward the window.
The city glittered beyond the glass, indifferent to the fact that my life had become a maze of lies.
I thought about my father.
A man I remembered mostly through photographs, old stories, and the faint scent of his aftershave on a jacket my mother had kept for years.
I had spent my childhood believing he died because of bad weather and an unfortunate turn in the road.
Now I wondered whether his final moments had been shaped by the same greed that had nearly destroyed my mother.
My phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
I answered without speaking.
For several seconds, there was only static.
Then a man's voice came through.
"Your father was a good man, Nia.""
I gripped the phone.
"Who is this?""
"You shouldn't be asking questions about the past.""
"Did you know my father?""
A pause.
"Better than you ever will.""
My stomach twisted.
"Did you kill him?""
The line went silent.
Then the man laughed softly.
"No. But I know who did.""
I looked at Rebecca and Daniel, who had both turned toward me.
"Tell me his name.""
The man exhaled.
"Look inside the safety deposit box. Your mother has the key. The truth is there.""
"Then why are you sending me to a warehouse?""
"Because Marcus is looking for the same thing.""
I felt a chill move through me.
"Where is he now?""
"Closer than you think.""
The call ended.
I lowered the phone.
Daniel immediately asked, "What did he say?""
I repeated every word.
Rebecca's expression tightened.
"We need to assume this caller may be involved in the threat. Don't call back.""
"But he knows something.""
"He may know something," she corrected.
"That doesn't mean he's telling the truth.""
Daniel received a message from his security director and read it aloud.
"The police found a vehicle registered to a company connected to Marcus parked two blocks from the warehouse. It's empty.""
My heart hammered.
"Did they find anyone inside?""
"No.""
I stared at the screen of my phone.
Closer than you think.
I looked toward the conference room door, suddenly aware of every footstep in the corridor.
Then a knock sounded.
Daniel's assistant opened the door.
"Mr. Whitmore, there's someone downstairs who insists on speaking to Nia. He says it's about her father.""
"Did he give his name?"" Daniel asked.
The assistant nodded.
"Yes.""
She glanced at me.
"He says his name is Richard Brooks.""
I stopped breathing.
May you like
Richard Brooks had been dead for eight years.
And the man standing downstairs claimed to be Marcus's father.
