Chapter 6 - The Red-Haired Woman
The woman wasn't afraid of me.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Most strangers who entered my house either tried too hard to appear calm or failed completely.
She did neither.
She simply stood there.
Mid-forties.
Red hair.
Gray eyes.
Black coat.
No jewelry.
No visible weapon.
Teresa stood behind her.
“Who is she?”
Teresa said, “Her name is Evelyn.”
Evelyn extended her hand.
I didn't take it.
She lowered it.
“Your father knew my family.”
“How?”
“He hired us.”
“For what?”
She looked at Teresa.
Then back at me.
“To keep you alive.”
I almost laughed.
“People don't usually protect someone by throwing his clothes away.”
“You weren't supposed to find the bags.”
“Well, I did.”
Evelyn sighed.
“Then we have less time than I thought.”
“Less time for what?”
She stepped closer.
“Your company isn't being infiltrated.”
“What?”
“It's already been taken.”
I stared at her.
“By whom?”
“Someone you've trusted for years.”
Luis entered from the hallway.
He stopped when he saw Evelyn.
“You know her?”
His face changed.
That frightened me more than anything she had said.
“Luis?”
He looked at Evelyn.
“You're supposed to be dead.”
She smiled without humor.
“That's the point.”
My stomach tightened.
“What the hell is going on?”
Evelyn placed a file on the table.
Inside were bank transfers, shipping records, surveillance images, employee reports.
“Your company has been used for something much bigger than freight theft.”
I flipped through the pages.
Containers.
Ports.
Names.
Accounts.
Politicians.
Judges.
Law enforcement officers.
My hands went cold.
“This is impossible.”
“No.”
She pointed to one page.
“This is your signature.”
I looked.
It was.
Except I had never signed it.
“Forgery?”
“No.”
Teresa stepped forward.
“They used a recording.”
“What?”
“Someone recorded you signing blank documents years ago.”
I turned to her.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“How long?”
“Four years.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Four years.
My wife had known for four years that someone had been stealing my identity.
Evelyn spoke quietly.
“The man behind it is called The Broker.”
I frowned.
“Who?”
“No one knows his real name.”
“Daniel Crane?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Evelyn looked at Teresa.
“Your wife knows.”
I turned.
Teresa's face had gone pale.
“Tell me.”
She shook her head.
“Teresa.”
She whispered,
“The Broker is the reason your father died.”
Everything went silent.
My father.
The accident.
The forged signatures.
The black SUVs.
Marcus Bell.
The bags.
All of it suddenly felt connected.
“Who is he?”
Teresa looked at me.
Then she said the name I never expected.
“Your brother.”
I stared at her.
“I don't have a brother.”
Evelyn slowly opened another file.
A birth certificate slid across the table.
Two male children.
Same mother.
Same father.
Born eleven months apart.
One name was mine.
The other had been blacked out.
May you like
But beneath the black ink, I could still see four letters.
DANIEL.
