Luis Mendoza answered on the second ring.
His voice sounded normal.
That frightened me more than if he had sounded nervous.
"Miranda."
"Hey."
"Everything okay?"
I looked across the table at Mercer and Rachel.
"No."
A pause.
"What happened?"
"I need to ask you something."
"Sure."
"Do you know Daniel Price?"
Silence.
Not long.
Long enough.
"Why are you asking?"
My stomach tightened.
"That's not an answer."
Another pause.
"Yes."
Megan looked away.
I closed my eyes.
"How?"
"Construction financing."
"What does that mean?"
"I met him through a lender."
"When?"
"Years ago."
"Did you introduce him to Brooke?"
Luis went quiet.
My grip tightened around the phone.
"Luis."
"Yes."
The answer landed like a physical blow.
"Why?"
"She asked me about someone who could help her get financing."
"For what?"
"She said she wanted to start a property business."
I laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
"Brooke?"
"Yes."
"She has never worked in property."
"I know."
"Then why did you connect them?"
"Because I thought she was your sister trying to build something."
I stood and walked toward the window.
"Did you tell Daniel anything about Holt Ridge?"
"General things."
"What general things?"
"Projects. Market. Contractors."
"Accounts?"
"No."
"Banking?"
"No."
"Logins?"
"Absolutely not."
"Project codes?"
He hesitated.
My chest tightened.
"What project codes?"
"Miranda—"
"Answer."
"Sometimes invoice codes were on documents."
"Documents he saw?"
"He saw some proposals."
"Why?"
"We discussed financing options."
I turned toward Mercer.
He was taking notes.
"Did Daniel ever ask about Ridgeview Commons?"
Luis was quiet.
Then: "Yes."
Megan covered her mouth.
"Did you give him documents?"
"I showed him a cost schedule."
"Why?"
"Because I thought he represented a funding partner."
"Who told you that?"
"Brooke."
Of course.
Always Brooke standing between two people, telling each a slightly different story.
"Did you verify him?"
"Not enough."
"Did you know Laurel Crest Consulting?"
Long silence.
"Luis."
"Yes."
I felt something inside me sink.
"How?"
"Daniel used the name."
"For what?"
"He said it was a consulting group."
"Did you invoice Holt Ridge through it?"
"No."
"Did you ever approve invoices from it?"
"No."
"Did you help create it?"
"No."
"Do you know my father's name is on the registration?"
"What?"
His surprise sounded real.
That didn't mean it was.
"Thomas Hale. Organizer."
"I swear to you, I didn't know."
"What about the photo?"
Silence.
"Which photo?"
"Brooke. Daniel. You."
He exhaled.
"That was taken two summers ago."
"Where?"
"At a contractor event."
"What were all three of you doing there?"
"Daniel invited Brooke. I ran into them."
"You're standing together."
"People take pictures."
I wanted to believe him.
That was dangerous.
"Did you ever meet Daniel after that?"
"Yes."
"How many times?"
"I don't know. Three? Four?"
"For what?"
"Business."
"What business?"
"Financing."
"What financing?"
He became defensive.
"My company."
I froze.
"What?"
"Mendoza Construction had cash-flow issues."
"You never told me."
"It wasn't your problem."
"You were one of my biggest contractors."
"I know."
"Did Daniel lend you money?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"Seventy-five thousand."
Mercer looked up sharply.
"When?"
"About eighteen months ago."
The same period again.
Unknown device.
Fraudulent loan.
Laurel Crest.
Everything clustered around the same months.
"Did Brooke arrange it?"
"She introduced us."
"Did she receive anything?"
"I don't know."
"Luis."
"I don't know."
"Did Daniel ask you for information about Holt Ridge in exchange for the loan?"
"No."
"Did Brooke?"
"No."
"Did anyone?"
He stopped.
My stomach dropped.
"Who?"
"Daniel asked me once for a vendor contact list."
"Did you give it to him?"
"No."
"Anything else?"
"He wanted copies of invoices."
"Why?"
"To understand my receivables."
"Did you give those?"
"Some."
"What invoices?"
"Holt Ridge."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
Maybe not malicious.
Still consequential.
"Those invoices contain project codes."
"I know."
"They contain internal contacts."
"I know."
"Sometimes banking instructions."
"I know."
His voice broke.
"I know."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Luis said, "Miranda, I didn't know what they were doing."
"What were they doing?"
"I don't know."
"You said 'they.'"
Silence.
"Who is they?"
"Daniel and Brooke."
Mercer leaned closer.
"What did you see?"
Luis lowered his voice.
"I saw them arguing once."
"About what?"
"Money."
"Where?"
"Daniel's office."
"When?"
"Last year."
"What did Brooke say?"
"I don't remember everything."
"Try."
He breathed out.
"She said he was taking too much."
"Too much of what?"
"I don't know."
"Did he answer?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
Luis hesitated.
"He said without him she wouldn't know where to move any of it."
Nobody in my dining room moved.
Money.
Moving it.
Daniel.
Brooke.
Laurel Crest.
The pieces were no longer abstract.
"Did you ask what they meant?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because Daniel had my loan."
That answer was painfully human.
Fear makes cowards out of people who otherwise think of themselves as decent.
"What happened after?"
"Brooke saw me."
"And?"
"She told me it was family business."
"Whose family?"
"Yours."
I laughed bitterly.
Of course.
"What else did she tell you?"
"That you knew."
My eyes opened.
"What?"
"She said some of the financing structures were yours."
"What structures?"
"Consulting payments. Short-term transfers. Project reimbursements."
I felt sick.
"She told you I was involved?"
"Yes."
"And you believed her?"
"You were growing fast."
"So fraud seemed plausible?"
"No."
"Then why didn't you ask me?"
"I thought it was tax stuff."
I stared through the window.
There it was again.
Nobody checked.
Everyone believed the version easiest for them to accept.
My parents believed I was struggling.
Luis believed I was using complicated financial structures.
Mom believed I had authorized backup access.
Dad believed paying Daniel would end the problem.
Brooke's talent was not merely lying.
It was identifying what each person was prepared to believe.
"Why were you at my house Christmas Day?" I asked.
Luis sounded stunned.
"What kind of question is that?"
"A relevant one."
"Because you invited me."
"Did Brooke know you were coming?"
"No."
"Daniel?"
"No."
"Did you take the photograph outside my window?"
"What photograph?"
His confusion sounded immediate.
Mercer gestured for me to send it.
I did.
Luis cursed when he saw it.
"That's not me."
"How can I know?"
"You can't."
Correct answer.
"Where were you Christmas Eve?"
"With Sofia."
His daughter.
"All night?"
"Yes."
"Can anyone verify?"
"My sister. Her husband. Half the neighborhood."
Mercer wrote it down.
"One more question," I said.
"Okay."
"Did Daniel ever mention my garage?"
Silence.
Then Luis said something that made my blood run cold.
"He asked where you kept old paper records."
Mercer stood.
"When?"
I repeated the question.
"About six months ago."
"What did you tell him?"
"Nothing."
"Think carefully."
"I told him you didn't keep much on-site anymore."
"Anything else?"
"That older records might be at your house."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"Did you tell him where?"
"No."
"Did you describe the garage?"
"No."
"Could he know from project plans?"
Luis was quiet.
My house plans had passed through contractors.
Including him.
"Yes," he whispered.
I ended the call only after Mercer collected everything he needed.
For several minutes, the dining room remained silent.
Rachel finally said, "Luis may be negligent without being involved."
"Or involved."
"Yes."
Megan asked Mercer, "What happens now?"
"We verify his alibi."
"And Daniel?"
"Still unconscious."
"Brooke?"
"Missing."
I looked up.
"What?"
"She isn't at her apartment."
"When did anyone check?"
"An officer went an hour ago."
"Car?"
"Gone."
"Phone?"
"Off."
"Parents?"
"She hasn't contacted them."
The motel address she sent earlier returned to me.
"Could she be there?"
"Already checked."
"Nothing?"
"Empty."
"What about the landlord?"
Mercer opened his folder.
"There's something else."
I almost laughed.
That phrase had become a curse.
"What?"
"Brooke's eviction story wasn't accurate."
"How inaccurate?"
"She was not six months behind."
Dad's earlier information echoed in my head.
"Then why did she need twelve thousand?"
"She didn't."
"What happened to her rent?"
"Paid on time."
"By whom?"
"Automatic payments from Laurel Crest."
I stared at him.
My father's fraudulent company had been paying my sister's rent.
For months.
"How much?"
"Nearly fifteen thousand."
"So the rent emergency was fake."
"Appears so."
Christmas.
Groceries.
Bills.
My parents abandoning the trip because Brooke claimed crisis.
All of it built on a financial emergency that did not exist.
I felt anger rise slowly.
Different from panic.
Cleaner.
"She manufactured Christmas."
Rachel looked at me.
"Don't reduce this to Christmas."
"I'm not."
But part of me needed to say it.
Because Christmas had seemed petty once the fraud emerged.
It wasn't petty.
It was evidence of method.
Brooke created urgency.
Urgency stopped questions.
People rushed to rescue her before verifying the problem.
That was how she had trained us.
Mercer received another call.
He walked into the study.
When he returned, his expression was grave.
"Daniel Price regained consciousness."
My heart jumped.
"Can he talk?"
"Briefly."
"Did he say anything?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"He asked for you."
I stared.
"Why?"
"Wouldn't say."
"Can I see him?"
Rachel immediately said, "Not alone."
Mercer nodded.
"Agreed."
An hour later, I was sitting outside Daniel Price's hospital room with Mercer and an officer posted near the door.
Daniel looked worse than I expected.
Bruising covered one side of his face.
His left arm was immobilized.
When I entered, his eyes moved slowly toward me.
"So," he whispered, "you finally know."
I stayed several feet from the bed.
"Know what?"
"That Brooke doesn't need rescuing."
My jaw tightened.
"What happened to your car?"
He smiled faintly.
"Wrong question."
"What should I ask?"
"Who knew I was coming to your house."
My skin prickled.
"Who?"
"Brooke."
"Did she cause the crash?"
"I don't know."
"Why were you coming?"
"To give you records."
"Why?"
His expression hardened.
"Because she stopped paying me."
Mercer stepped closer.
"For what?"
Daniel looked at him.
"Keeping quiet."
"So you were extorting her."
He laughed weakly.
"Call it whatever you want."
"What were you keeping quiet about?"
Daniel turned back to me.
"Your sister started small."
"How small?"
"Credit cards."
Mom.
Then Dad.
"Then?"
"She figured out your parents would cover anything if she cried hard enough."
I said nothing.
"Then she found your files."
"When?"
"Years ago."
"What did she do?"
"At first? Nothing."
"And later?"
"She realized your company had something better than cash."
"What?"
"Movement."
I frowned.
"Money coming in. Money going out. Contractors. escrow. vendors. Nobody questions every transfer in a growing business."
My stomach tightened.
"She used Holt Ridge to hide money?"
"Sometimes."
"Whose money?"
"Loans. Credit. Fake consulting payments."
"Laurel Crest?"
He smiled.
"You found that."
"Who created it?"
"Brooke."
"Using my father's identity?"
"Yes."
"Did my father know?"
"No."
"What was your role?"
He looked toward the ceiling.
"I built the paperwork."
"So you were involved."
"Yes."
No excuse.
No denial.
That honesty made him frightening.
"Why tell me now?"
"Because Brooke decided she didn't need me anymore."
"Why did she send me to that motel?"
His eyes shifted toward me.
"She wanted the envelope."
"What was in it?"
"Proof she thought I had."
"Did you?"
"I had better."
"The laptop in your car?"
"Part of it."
Mercer asked, "Who broke into Ms. Hale's garage?"
Daniel closed his eyes.
"Not me."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Brooke?"
"Maybe."
"You expect us to believe you don't know?"
"I stopped trusting her months ago."
I stepped closer.
"Did you send the Christmas Eve photograph?"
His eyes opened.
"No."
"Did you take it?"
"No."
"Who did?"
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then he whispered, "Luis."
My stomach dropped.
"No."
Daniel gave a weak smile.
"Ask him what Brooke promised his company if Holt Ridge ever cut him loose."
I left the room shaking.
Mercer followed.
"Do not call Luis."
"I know."
"Miranda."
"I said I know."
My phone vibrated before we reached the elevator.
A text from Luis.
Please don't believe Daniel.
I stopped walking.
Mercer saw it.
Neither of us spoke.
Then another message arrived.
I can explain the photo.
My pulse pounded.
I typed nothing.
A third message.
Brooke made me watch the house. I never touched your accounts. I swear.
Mercer read over my shoulder.
"Now we know Daniel wasn't lying about everything."
I stared at the screen.
The elevator doors opened.
I did not move.
Luis sent one final message.
She said if I didn't help her, she'd make sure Holt Ridge found out where the missing money really went.
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: Luis Finally Explained the Christmas Eve Photograph, but His Confession Revealed a Second Scheme Hidden Inside Brooke’s Fraud
My Parents Canceled Christmas With One Short Message, and I Finally Stopped Asking Them to Choose Me
Part 8 of 40
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