Chapter 3 - Mara had been dead for eighteen months.The official report called it an accident.
A wet road.
A damaged guardrail.
A car that lost control on a mountain curve.
I had believed it.
For a year and a half, I had visited her grave and blamed myself for not convincing her to stay closer to the family.
Now I wasn't sure I believed a single line of that report.
Samuel found me in the conference room staring at Mara's photograph.
“You're thinking about the accident.”
“Yes.”
“Cesare…”
“Pull her financial records.”
Samuel stopped.
“What?”
“Everything.”
He knew what I meant.
Bank accounts.
Emails.
Phone records.
Property.
Work files.
Old laptops.
Medical records.
Anything.
Within three hours, we discovered Mara had maintained a private account I had never known about.
It contained less than $9,000.
But there were dozens of small payments to a private investigator.
Samuel printed the transaction history.
Every payment occurred during the same six months Julian's suspicious invoices began.
I stared at the dates.
“She was following the money.”
“Yes.”
“What did she find?”
“We don't know.”
“Then find out.”
Samuel opened another file.
“Mara also downloaded documents from Julian's office.”
“Why?”
“Because she had access.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did Julian know?”
“Probably.”
“Then why didn't he stop her?”
Samuel looked at me.
“Maybe he did.”
I refused to accept the thought.
“Julian isn't a murderer.”
“I didn't say he was.”
“You were thinking it.”
Samuel said nothing.
At noon, we obtained Mara's old laptop.
It had been stored in one of her mother's closets since her death.
The hard drive was damaged.
But not destroyed.
A forensic technician extracted several folders.
One contained photographs.
One contained voice recordings.
One contained a document named FINAL.
I opened it.
There were no financial records.
Instead, there was a letter.
Cesare,
If you're reading this, something happened before I could finish.
Please don't trust Julian.
My heart stopped.
I read on.
He told me the money was for the foundation.
It isn't.
He's moving money through companies controlled by people connected to Vanessa's family.
I've confronted him.
He said I was imagining things.
But I found a second account.
I have proof.
Do not confront him until you know who else is involved.
I kept reading.
And then the letter ended.
The next page was blank.
“That's it?”
Samuel nodded.
“What about the voice recordings?”
We opened one.
Mara's voice filled the room.
She sounded exhausted.
“I asked him why the invoices keep changing.”
A man's voice answered.
Julian.
“You don't understand corporate structures.”
“You're moving foundation money.”
“I'm investing it.”
“Then why are the vendors connected to Vanessa's family?”
Silence.
Then Julian said:
“Stop digging.”
Mara answered:
“I won't.”
The recording ended.
I stared at the screen.
Samuel looked at me.
“What was the date?”
“Six days before her accident.”
I felt numb.
Then we opened another.
Mara again.
This time she was crying.
“He knows.”
A second voice said something too quietly to understand.
Then Mara whispered:
“I think they're going to take Elsie.”
The recording ended.
I pushed away from the desk.
“They knew.”
“Who?”
“All of them.”
Samuel didn't speak.
“They knew she was investigating.”
I stood.
“Where was Elsie the night Mara died?”
Samuel checked.
“With Julian.”
I felt my stomach turn.
“And where was Julian?”
“According to the police report, at the hospital.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“According to Julian.”
Samuel looked at me.
“What's the difference?”
I pointed at the recording.
“If Mara believed Elsie was in danger, she would have hidden her somewhere.”
“But Elsie was with Julian.”
“Exactly.”
We pulled traffic camera footage from the night Mara died.
Her car left the city at 9:42 p.m.
A second vehicle followed eleven minutes later.
Black SUV.
No visible plate.
At 10:18, Mara's vehicle disappeared from camera.
At 10:25, the SUV returned.
At 10:41, Julian's phone connected to a tower near the crash site.
I stared at the timestamp.
“He said he was at the hospital.”
Samuel's face went pale.
“He lied.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Then my security chief burst through the door.
“Sir.”
He was holding a photograph.
“We found this in Julian's apartment.”
The photograph showed Mara standing outside a restaurant.
She wasn't alone.
Beside her stood Ethan Hale.
On the back was a handwritten date.
Three days before her death.
I looked at Samuel.
“Mara knew Ethan.”
“No,” he said.
“She was investigating Ethan.”
I turned the photograph over.
There was another line beneath the date.
Don't trust the man who says he works for the foundation.
I looked at Ethan's face.
Then I looked at the photograph of Julian with Vanessa.
Something still didn't fit.
Why would Ethan help Mara?
Why would he later attack me?
And why was he so terrified of the paper flower?
I enlarged the photograph on my laptop.
Behind Mara and Ethan was a restaurant window.
Reflected in the glass was another figure.
A man sitting at a table.
Watching them.
I zoomed in.
I knew that face.
Marcus Vale.
Vanessa's father.
My phone rang again.
This time it was Julian.
I answered.
“What do you want?”
His voice was shaking.
“Dad, you need to listen to me.”
“You have thirty seconds.”
“I didn't kill Mara.”
I froze.
“I never said you did.”
Silence.
Then Julian whispered:
“I know.”
He breathed heavily.
“And Dad…”
“What?”
“I think they killed her because she found out where the money was really going.”
“Where?”
May you like
His answer came like a confession.
“Into your family.”
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