Chapter 13 - The Woman Who Wasn't RenataThe medical records turned into the first real crack in Renata's story.
Raymond subpoenaed the clinic's security footage.
There she was.
A woman entered the clinic three months earlier.
Dark hair.
Gray coat.
Same height as me.
She presented identification.
She signed my name.
But when the camera angle changed, we saw her face.
Not mine.
A stranger.
"Who is she?" I asked.
Raymond froze the image.
"We'll find out."
The identity came back the next day.
Elaine Porter.
A former nurse.
No criminal record.
No obvious connection to Renata.
But bank records showed that Elaine had received $25,000 from a consulting company.
The company was controlled by Victor Hale.
Which meant Victor was alive.
And still operating.
We located him at a hotel in Montreal.
We arrived too late.
The room was empty.
But there was a note on the table.
STOP LOOKING FOR THE MONEY.
Below it:
LOOK FOR THE GIRL.
We returned to Barrie.
"The girl?" I asked.
Raymond nodded.
"The girl in the photograph."
"Renata."
"Maybe."
"What else could it mean?"
We searched historical records.
Renata Rossi was born nineteen eighty-four.
The photograph from twenty years ago was dated nineteen ninety-nine.
She would have been fifteen.
The woman in the photograph looked at least twenty-five.
I stared.
"That's not Renata."
Raymond enlarged the photograph.
He was right.
Same face shape.
Same dark eyes.
But different woman.
"Then who is she?"
We sent the photograph to a forensic specialist.
The answer came back.
The woman was Elena Rossi.
Renata's older sister.
Dead.
The date of death was twenty-one years ago.
I stared at the screen.
Another dead Rossi.
But Elena had died one year after the photograph.
And she had been twenty-five.
Suddenly the pieces began to fit.
Renata had been a teenager when Elena died.
Victor Hale had known Elena.
Patricia had known Elena.
My father had known Elena.
And the woman in the photograph wasn't Renata.
It was Elena.
Then why had Renata been connected to Victor?
Because she had inherited Elena's information.
Possibly her obsession.
At 6:00 p.m., Marcus came to the cottage.
He looked older than he had the week before.
"I know who Elena was."
I looked at him.
"How?"
"Renata told me once."
"What did she say?"
"Elena was the only person who knew where the money came from."
"What money?"
"The four million."
I sat.
"Where did it come from?"
Marcus whispered:
"Not Northstar."
"Then?"
He looked at Raymond.
"Political contracts."
Silence.
"Explain."
"Government infrastructure contracts."
"Bribes?"
"That's what Elena believed."
I felt a chill.
"Your father?"
Marcus shook his head.
"Grandpa wasn't stealing the money."
"Then what?"
"Grandpa was moving it."
"For whom?"
Marcus looked at me.
"People who couldn't be seen owning it."
Raymond stood.
"That's enough."
But I wasn't listening.
"Who?"
Marcus whispered:
"People with power."
The story had suddenly become much larger than our family.
The money wasn't just private debt.
It was tied to a network of shell companies and hidden contracts.
My father had been an intermediary.
Patricia had discovered the trail.
Then someone had killed the trail by making people disappear.
Grant.
Victor.
Elena.
Maybe others.
Renata had inherited the obsession.
But she was not the architect.
She was the weapon.
And someone else was holding her leash.
That night, Raymond received an encrypted email.
The sender was anonymous.
The attachment contained one document.
A list of names.
Every person connected to the original money trail.
Most were dead.
Three were alive.
Victor Hale.
Renata Rossi.
And Walter Hayes.
I stared.
"I'm the last loose end."
Raymond nodded.
"Maybe."
Then we heard a noise outside.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Someone was walking toward the cottage.
Raymond turned off the lights.
We waited.
The doorknob moved.
Once.
Twice.
Then stopped.
A voice came through the door.
"Mr. Hayes."
I knew the voice.
Daniel.
We opened the door.
He looked terrified.
"They found me."
"Who?"
"The people behind Victor."
"Where's Marcus?"
Daniel looked at my son.
Then away.
"That's why I'm here."
Marcus stepped forward.
"What happened?"
Daniel swallowed.
"Your mother knew this would happen."
"What?"
"She left one final instruction."
"To whom?"
"You."
He looked at Marcus.
"Not Walter."
I froze.
Daniel handed Marcus an envelope.
"Your mother said you would have to choose."
"Choose what?"
"Your father..."
Daniel glanced at me.
"...or the truth."
Marcus opened the envelope.
His face went white.
He read the first line.
Then looked at me.
"Dad..."
"What?"
"I think Mom knew you were going to be betrayed."
"By whom?"
He couldn't answer.
May you like
Then Daniel spoke.
"By me."
