I called Dad before anyone could stop me.
His phone rang once.
Twice.
Then someone answered.
“Jenna.”
Marcus Cole’s voice was calmer than I expected.
I had heard him speak only a handful of times in my life.
At that Christmas party.
On a business call Patrick once took in our kitchen.
He had always sounded polished.
He still did.
“Where’s my father?”
“With me.”
“Put him on.”
“No.”
“Then I hang up.”
A pause.
“You’ve changed.”
My stomach turned.
“You don’t know me.”
“I know quite a lot about you.”
Officer Reyes gestured for me to keep him talking.
I ignored the fear crawling along my spine.
“What do you want?”
“Something Richard stole from my family.”
“Dad didn’t steal anything.”
“That’s his story.”
“The audit proves it.”
Silence.
That was the first crack.
“So you found out about the records,” Marcus said.
“You mean the evidence you want destroyed.”
“You’ve inherited Richard’s confidence.”
“No. I inherited his dislike of thieves.”
Jason looked at me as though I had lost my mind.
Marcus laughed softly.
“I understand why Patrick fell for you.”
The sentence hurt in a way I refused to show.
“Where is Dad?”
“You already know.”
Riverside.
Detective Chen was coordinating with police, but the old factory sprawled across several acres near the river. Marcus had chosen terrain he apparently knew well.
“What happens now?”
“You bring me the archive key.”
I looked at Reyes.
He shook his head.
“What key?”
“Don’t play games.”
“I’m not.”
“You have access.”
“I’ve never been inside that archive.”
Marcus went quiet.
Maybe Patrick had given him bad information.
Or maybe Marcus was testing me.
“Richard will tell you where the key is.”
“Let me speak to him.”
“No.”
“Then you don’t get anything.”
Marcus sighed.
“Patrick warned me you could be stubborn.”
“You should have listened.”
Another pause.
Then Dad’s voice came faintly through the phone.
“Jenna, don’t—”
The line muffled.
“Dad!”
Marcus returned.
“He’s unharmed.”
“If you hurt him—”
“You’ll what?”
I stopped.
Threats would not help.
“I won’t bring you anything unless I know he’s alive.”
“You just heard him.”
“I want a video.”
Marcus laughed.
“You’re negotiating now?”
“I learned from watching bad men underestimate me.”
The line went silent.
Then ended.
My hands shook afterward.
Detective Chen called immediately.
“He confirmed Riverside.”
“You already knew.”
“Confirmation matters.”
“What are you doing?”
“Teams are approaching.”
“Can they get Dad out?”
“We’re working on it.”
Not enough.
Nothing was enough.
My phone buzzed.
Patrick.
I answered before Reyes could object.
“Where are you?”
“Near Riverside.”
My heart jumped.
“Why?”
“I followed Marcus.”
“You followed him after escaping police?”
“Yes.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that like confession is accountability.”
Patrick went quiet.
Then said, “I can get Richard out.”
“No.”
“Jenna.”
“No more plans.”
“Marcus expects police.”
“He should.”
“He knows the factory better than they do.”
“So does Dad.”
“Not the parts Marcus has been using.”
I looked toward Chen, who was listening through speaker.
Patrick continued.
“There’s an old loading tunnel beneath Building Three.”
Dad had once mentioned underground service corridors.
“Marcus used it to move equipment into the site.”
“What equipment?”
“Cameras. Computers. Supplies.”
“Guns?”
“I don’t know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“I genuinely don’t.”
Detective Chen wrote something and passed it to Reyes.
He left to relay the tunnel information.
Patrick lowered his voice.
“Marcus has the red folder.”
“Good. Police can take it from him.”
“He’ll burn it.”
“Then we have other evidence.”
“Not enough for Elena.”
I closed my eyes.
Even now Patrick was trying to control the outcome.
“Why do you care about Elena?”
“Because I need Marcus convicted.”
“For justice?”
Silence.
“For yourself,” I said.
“Yes.”
At least he had stopped pretending.
“If Marcus takes all the blame, you think you get a better deal.”
“Yes.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You really do understand honesty when it benefits you.”
“Jenna, I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“I’m asking you to let me help Richard.”
“By doing what?”
“I can enter through the loading tunnel.”
Chen shook her head violently.
“No.”
I relayed it.
“Police say no.”
“Police don’t know Marcus.”
“Neither did I, apparently.”
Patrick exhaled.
“Marcus wants the archive because Victor’s records destroy the story he has used for twenty years.”
“We know.”
“He also wants Richard to sign something.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Patrick.”
“I saw documents in Marcus’s car. Transfer agreements.”
“To Bennett Industrial?”
“Probably.”
“Probably isn’t useful.”
“He needs Richard’s signature.”
“Dad won’t sign.”
“He will if Marcus threatens you.”
“But Marcus has Dad, not me.”
“That’s why he’ll try to get you there.”
I looked at Chen.
She nodded.
We had already reached the same conclusion.
“I’m not going.”
“Good.”
Patrick sounded genuinely relieved.
Then he said, “But Marcus may have another way.”
“What?”
“He has a recording of you.”
My stomach tightened.
“What recording?”
“Your voice.”
“For what?”
“He used audio from videos and calls.”
I understood before Patrick explained.
“Voice cloning?”
“Yes.”
“To impersonate me?”
“Possibly.”
“What can he do with it?”
“I don’t know.”
I nearly screamed.
Patrick continued quickly.
“He asked me for recordings months ago. I gave him videos.”
“You gave him recordings of me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said he needed samples for a presentation.”
“You believed that?”
“No.”
That answer was worse.
“Then why?”
“I needed money.”
There it was.
Again.
Money.
Always enough to cross the next line.
I ended the call.
Chen immediately contacted Dad’s bank, attorneys, trustees, and company security.
Any instruction supposedly coming from me would require in-person verification.
My voice was no longer proof of my identity.
Another ordinary thing Patrick had taken.
The phone rang again.
Marcus.
This time a video call.
Chen positioned herself out of frame.
I answered.
Marcus appeared inside a dim industrial room.
Behind him sat Dad.
His hands were secured in front of him.
There was blood near his temple.
My breath caught.
“I’m fine,” Dad said immediately.
Marcus struck the back of his chair.
“Quiet.”
Something in me went cold.
“What do you want?”
Marcus turned the camera.
A metal archive door stood behind them.
“Richard won’t give me the combination.”
“I don’t know it.”
“He says you do.”
Dad shouted, “I said no such thing.”
Marcus smiled.
“Families are wonderfully predictable.”
I stared at him.
“You’ve spent twenty years blaming Dad because your father stole from him.”
His smile vanished.
“You know nothing about my father.”
“I know there’s an audit you’re desperate to destroy.”
“Richard manufactured that evidence.”
“Then why not let police see it?”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
Dad looked at me.
Pride flashed briefly in his face.
Marcus moved closer to the camera.
“You have thirty minutes.”
“For what?”
“Come to Riverside.”
“No.”
His eyes hardened.
“Then Richard signs.”
“Signs what?”
“A correction.”
“To what?”
“History.”
I almost laughed.
“You mean ownership.”
Marcus’s expression changed again.
I had named it.
“This was never about justice,” I said. “You want Dad’s companies.”
“My family built the foundation he stands on.”
“And you want to get rich proving how morally offended you are.”
Marcus grabbed Dad by the shoulder.
My body reacted before my mind did.
“Don’t touch him.”
“There she is.”
He smiled.
“The daughter Patrick described.”
I hated Patrick for giving him the map to me.
Marcus ended the call.
Chen immediately said, “You are not going.”
“I know.”
“You hesitated.”
“I’m human.”
Jason stood beside me.
“We find another way.”
Ten minutes later Patrick sent a photograph.
An exterior wall of Riverside.
A rusted service door.
Caption:
I’m going in.
I typed back.
No.
His reply came.
I owe him this.
I stared at the words.
Then typed:
You owe me many things. Dying stupidly isn’t one of them.
Three dots appeared.
For the first time in days, I could almost imagine the Patrick I once knew reading that message.
He replied:
Fair.
Then:
Tell police the tunnel exits behind the archive room.
I handed the phone to Chen.
She relayed it to the tactical team.
Minutes dragged.
No one spoke.
Then gunfire cracked through Chen’s radio.
My entire body went rigid.
“Shots fired, Building Three.”
Another voice.
“Officer down?”
Static.
Then:
“Negative. Civilian inside.”
Patrick.
I closed my eyes.
Chen listened.
“Suspect moving toward archive.”
Another burst of radio traffic.
Then silence.
My phone rang.
Patrick.
I answered.
His voice was barely audible.
“I found Richard.”
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
Dad’s voice came faintly.
“Jenna?”
I nearly collapsed with relief.
“Dad.”
“I’m okay.”
Patrick whispered, “Marcus left the room when police entered the south side.”
“Can you get Dad out?”
“Trying.”
Metal scraped.
Dad grunted.
Then Patrick said, “Wait.”
“What?”
Silence.
“Patrick?”
His breathing changed.
“He left the folder.”
“What folder?”
“The red one.”
“Take it and leave.”
Patrick did not answer.
“Patrick.”
“There’s something inside.”
“Leave it.”
“It’s about you.”
My stomach tightened.
“Everything is about me lately. Get Dad out.”
“No. Jenna.”
His voice changed.
“You need to hear this.”
“What?”
“Marcus kept records of every payment he made to me.”
I closed my eyes.
“How much?”
“Over six years?”
A pause.
“Nearly four hundred thousand dollars.”
Jason stared at me.
Patrick continued.
“The first payment was three weeks before I met you.”
There it was.
Proof.
Not suggestion.
Not Marcus’s claim.
Patrick had been paid before our first conversation.
“What was the payment description?”
Patrick’s voice broke.
“Bennett introduction.”
I could not speak.
My marriage had a receipt.
Dad said something in the background.
Then Patrick continued.
“There’s another payment after our engagement.”
“What does that one say?”
He hesitated.
“Access secured.”
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
“And after the wedding?”
“Phase two.”
Every milestone of my life had been converted into a transaction.
I wanted to stop hearing.
But I had spent too many years not knowing.
“What was phase two?”
Patrick whispered, “Financial access.”
My eyes burned.
“And phase three?”
A long silence.
“Patrick.”
“Succession.”
I knew what that meant now.
Dad.
The trust.
The companies.
“And the final phase?”
Patrick did not answer.
A noise sounded behind him.
Footsteps.
Fast.
Dad shouted.
Then the phone crashed against something.
I heard Patrick grunt.
A man’s voice.
Marcus.
“You should have stayed bought.”
The call ended.
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: Inside the Riverside Archive, Patrick Finally Chose a Side, but Marcus Had One Last Document That Could Destroy Dad Without Killing Him
I Arrived at My Parents’ Dinner Without the Car My Father Had Given Me, and Patrick Was Already Smiling
Part 11 of 20
