Robert sat on the motel room's only chair while the rest of us remained standing.
He looked like a defendant.
Perhaps, in some sense, he was.
I closed the door.
“Mom drove your car back to St. Anne's?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because her car had already been seen there.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It did to her.”
“Explain.”
Robert rubbed his hands together.
“Margaret believed whoever killed Peter was watching the parking lot.”
“So she used your car.”
“Yes.”
“And where were you?”
“At Gerald's house.”
“Then how did you return to the hospital?”
“I didn't.”
I stared.
“You told us you did.”
“Yes.”
The admission came quietly.
Daniel folded his arms.
“So your story about going back for the flash drive was false.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Robert looked at me.
“To protect Margaret.”
My anger flared.
“My mother is dead.”
“I know.”
“Then why keep protecting her?”
“Because what she did after Peter died could make it look like she was involved.”
My chest tightened.
“What did she do?”
Robert stared at the carpet.
“She removed evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“The flash drive.”
I went still.
“Dad gave it to you.”
“Yes.”
“You said you left it in his room.”
“I did.”
“And Mom retrieved it.”
“Yes.”
“What was on it?”
“I didn't know then.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
Robert glanced toward Vanessa.
She seemed genuinely confused.
“It contained recordings Peter made of Victor and William.”
“We already found recordings.”
“Not those.”
“What was different?”
“These were conversations about the development financing.”
Daniel immediately understood.
“The forged release.”
“Yes.”
“Criminal evidence.”
“Yes.”
“What did Mom do with the drive?”
“Destroyed it.”
The word hit the room hard.
“Why?”
Robert's face tightened.
“She thought it would protect you.”
I almost laughed.
Again.
Always protection.
Always destruction.
“Protect me from what?”
“The companies in your name.”
“How would destroying evidence help?”
“Because the recordings also proved Peter knew your identity was being used months before he told you.”
I stared.
“So?”
Robert swallowed.
“And he didn't stop it.”
That made no sense.
“Dad would never allow that.”
“He did.”
“Why?”
“Because he was trying to trace the money.”
Daniel's expression hardened.
“He let the fraudulent companies remain active as part of his investigation.”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
My identity had become bait for everyone.
Even my father.
“Did Mom know?”
“Not at first.”
“And when she learned?”
“She was furious.”
I believed that.
“What did she do?”
“She confronted him.”
“When?”
“Two days before the crash.”
“Did they fight?”
“Yes.”
“How badly?”
Robert looked away.
“Badly.”
I suddenly remembered a call from Mom that week.
Her voice had sounded strained.
She asked whether I had ever considered moving.
I had laughed and told her Robert loved the neighborhood.
Had she been trying to get me away?
“Did Mom blame Dad for putting me at risk?”
“Yes.”
“And then Dad died.”
“Yes.”
A terrible thought formed.
“Did she think Dad's own investigation caused his death?”
“Yes.”
Robert looked at me.
“That was why she destroyed the flash drive. She thought continuing the investigation would get you killed too.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“That doesn't explain why she went back to the hospital disguised as Robert.”
“She wasn't disguised as me.”
“She drove your car.”
“That was all.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Did she enter Peter's room?”
Robert hesitated.
“Yes.”
My skin went cold.
“When?”
“After he died.”
“Why?”
“To get the drive.”
“How did she enter without being logged?”
“She used a service entrance.”
“Who told her about it?”
Robert looked at Vanessa.
Nobody needed the answer.
Vanessa stared.
“I didn't.”
“No,” Robert said. “Victor did.”
The room went still.
I looked at him.
“Victor helped Mom?”
“Yes.”
That contradicted nearly everything.
“Why?”
“Because by then Margaret and Victor were working together.”
Vanessa whispered, “What?”
Robert nodded.
“Peter suspected Victor. Margaret didn't.”
I thought of Dad's recording.
I made the mistake of assuming the obvious suspect was the correct one.
“Mom believed William was behind everything.”
“Yes.”
“And Victor?”
“She believed he had stolen money but wasn't responsible for the larger scheme.”
Gerald's ledger had suggested the same.
Daniel asked, “Then why did Victor disguise himself later?”
Robert shook his head.
“I don't think he did.”
“We already suspect that.”
“I mean Victor wasn't even near the hospital after he signed out.”
“Where was he?”
“With Margaret.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
“He met her in the parking lot.”
“Before she left?”
“Yes.”
“Then the person impersonating Victor entered afterward.”
“Yes.”
“And Mom knew the real Victor had left.”
Robert nodded.
“That was how she knew the man in the security still wasn't him.”
That explained her letter.
William will want you to believe he killed your father.
He did not.
She was talking about the disguised figure.
Not William.
Not necessarily Victor.
“Why didn't Mom tell police?”
“She didn't trust them.”
“Why?”
“Because someone had already altered the accident report.”
Daniel frowned.
“How?”
“The first responding officer noted tire marks from another vehicle.”
“I didn't see that in the archived report.”
“Exactly.”
I felt cold.
“Who removed it?”
“Margaret never proved it.”
“William?”
“Maybe.”
“Victor?”
“No.”
“Why no?”
“Victor gave her a copy of the original notes.”
I closed my eyes.
Every villain kept becoming partly helpful.
Every helper kept becoming partly guilty.
Lucas spoke from the wall.
“Can somebody in this family have one clean role?”
Nobody answered.
I looked at Robert.
“What happened after Mom returned to Gerald's?”
“She had Peter's blood samples and the flash drive.”
“And Victor?”
“He joined us twenty minutes later.”
Vanessa stared.
“You were all together.”
“Yes.”
“Robert, Margaret, Gerald and Victor.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked stunned.
“What did you decide?”
Robert's expression tightened.
“To bury everything.”
I stared.
“You decided what?”
“Temporarily.”
“You buried evidence of Dad's murder.”
“We believed going public would expose you.”
“How?”
“The fraudulent companies.”
“Those were forged.”
“Not all the signatures were.”
I went still.
“What?”
Robert looked miserable.
“Elena, you signed some of the formation documents.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I would remember.”
“You thought they were refinancing papers.”
I stared.
He continued.
“You signed a packet at our kitchen table.”
A memory surfaced.
Robert bringing home documents.
Saying they were connected to a home-equity rate adjustment.
I had signed where he pointed while making dinner.
My stomach turned.
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“And those signatures created companies.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“At that point, yes.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Marisol whispered, “Dad.”
Robert looked at her.
“I was already involved.”
“How involved?” Daniel asked.
Robert rubbed his face.
“Enough.”
“No. Numbers.”
“I received payments.”
“We know.”
His eyes snapped toward Vanessa.
She didn't look away.
Daniel said, “Almost six hundred thousand.”
Robert nodded.
“What for?”
“Introducing entities. Signing resolutions. Confirming identities.”
“Mom's identity.”
“Yes.”
I felt numb.
“Why?”
“At first, money.”
Finally.
A truth without disguise.
“At first?”
“I thought it was legal. Aggressive, maybe. But legal.”
“When did you know it wasn't?”
“The second company.”
“And you kept going.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at me.
“Because by then William had records showing I had participated.”
“That is not protection. That's cowardice.”
“Yes.”
No defense.
No explanation.
Just yes.
It made anger harder.
“Dad found out.”
“Yes.”
“And confronted you.”
“Yes.”
“He then recruited you.”
“Yes.”
“To help expose William.”
“And Victor.”
“But Mom believed Victor could be turned.”
“Yes.”
“Was he?”
“For a while.”
Daniel looked at Robert.
“What happened to the blood evidence?”
“Gerald's son tested it.”
“And?”
“Midazolam. No other unusual drugs.”
“Air embolism?”
“Couldn't prove it from the sample.”
“What did you do with the blood?”
“Destroyed it.”
My head snapped toward him.
“You destroyed that too?”
“Margaret ordered it.”
“I don't care.”
Robert flinched.
“Everyone keeps hiding behind my dead mother.”
He lowered his eyes.
I looked toward Vanessa.
“You worked for William afterward.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell him Mom and Victor were cooperating?”
“I didn't know.”
“You followed them.”
“I followed Robert and Margaret. Victor arrived after I left.”
“So William didn't know?”
“Not then.”
Robert spoke quietly.
“He learned later.”
“How?”
“Someone told him.”
“Who?”
“We never found out.”
That was suddenly the most important question.
Someone inside the group.
Mom.
Robert.
Gerald.
Victor.
One of them leaked.
Or someone else watched.
Daniel pulled up the timeline on his phone.
“Grandpa dies. Grandma retrieves the flash drive. Group meets at Gerald's. Evidence gets destroyed. Then what?”
Robert answered.
“Nothing for two weeks.”
“And then?”
“William called me.”
“What did he say?”
“He knew Peter had recorded him.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“He knew the flash drive was gone?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“He knew Margaret had joined Victor?”
Robert looked at me.
“Yes.”
The leak had been devastatingly specific.
“Who knew all three facts?”
Robert thought.
“Gerald.”
“Victor.”
“Margaret.”
“You.”
“Yes.”
Vanessa added, “Possibly Samuel Ortega.”
Robert frowned.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Peter told Samuel more than people think.”
I remembered Ortega arriving at the bank with Dad's envelope.
“What did Samuel know?”
“About the easement.”
“Anything else?”
“I don't know.”
Daniel said, “We need to stop using memory.”
He looked at Vanessa.
“You said William had you collect hospital security footage.”
“Yes.”
“Do you still have it?”
“No.”
“Any copy?”
She hesitated.
That was enough.
“Vanessa.”
“One.”
“Where?”
“Cloud storage.”
Lucas laughed softly.
“For once, thank God for people who don't delete things.”
Vanessa ignored him.
“I kept the full east-corridor export.”
Daniel moved closer.
“How much footage?”
“Six hours.”
“Before and after?”
“Yes.”
“Can you access it?”
“Yes.”
She opened a laptop from her bag.
The connection was painfully slow.
Nobody spoke.
Finally a folder appeared.
ST ANNE — 11/15.
She downloaded the files.
Daniel connected the laptop to the motel television.
The first video showed the east hallway.
Time stamp 12:47 a.m.
We accelerated.
Mom arrived at 12:52.
She entered Dad's room.
Left nineteen minutes later.
Then the real Victor appeared at 1:03.
Entered.
Left at 1:27.
He was clearly himself.
No disguise.
No coat.
At 1:29, Vanessa appeared.
She walked toward the service stairwell.
At 1:31, a man wearing Ortega's camel coat entered from the stairs.
He paused.
Turned slightly.
Even with the grainy image, his face looked like Victor's.
But now we knew it was a disguise.
At 1:32, Vanessa joined him.
They spoke.
Then the man entered Dad's room.
Vanessa walked away.
At 1:34, the monitor alarm began.
Nurses ran toward the room.
The disguised man slipped out through the service door.
Daniel paused.
“Look at his gait.”
“What?”
“He's limping.”
Robert leaned forward.
“Right leg.”
Vanessa nodded slowly.
“Victor didn't limp.”
“William?”
“No.”
“Gerald?”
Robert shook his head.
Then Marisol whispered.
“Grandpa's funeral.”
We looked at her.
“There was a man with a cane.”
I remembered.
Not William.
Not Victor.
Another man.
Older.
Near the back.
“Who?”
Marisol looked at me.
“I don't know.”
Robert had gone pale.
I saw recognition.
“You do.”
He said nothing.
“Robert.”
He stared at the frozen frame.
“That walk.”
“Who?”
He swallowed.
“I haven't seen him in years.”
“Who?”
Robert looked at me.
“Your uncle.”
I stared.
“I don't have an uncle.”
“Yes, you do.”
My mouth went dry.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father's younger brother.”
“No.”
“His name is Thomas Carter.”
I laughed because the alternative was shouting.
“My father was an only child.”
“That is what he told you.”
My anger returned instantly.
“Stop.”
“Elena—”
“Stop introducing secret relatives every time we solve one mystery.”
“I wish I were.”
Daniel looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Peter told me the night before he died.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas was the person he finally realized he'd overlooked.”
I stared at the frozen image.
The disguised man.
The limp.
The uncle I had never heard of.
“What happened between them?”
Robert's voice dropped.
“Thomas went to prison.”
“For what?”
“Fraud.”
My skin prickled.
“When?”
“Before you were born.”
“For how long?”
“Twelve years.”
“What kind of fraud?”
Robert looked at the trust documents.
“Property fraud.”
Nobody spoke.
I felt the answer before asking.
“Did Thomas believe Dad owed him something?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Robert looked at me.
“The land under your house.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 15: The Uncle My Father Erased From Our Family Had a Claim to the Land and a Reason to Hate Everyone Who Inherited It
The Man Who Abandoned Us Appeared at My Door and Asked for the One Thing I Never Expected
Part 14 of 24
