Chapter 7 - My Son Disappeared at 11:42The police found Marcus's truck near an abandoned service road outside Barrie.
No Marcus.
No phone.
No wallet.
No blood.
Nothing.
Renata told police he had been driving home after leaving work.
That was all.
But when the officer asked me whether Marcus had enemies, she interrupted.
"He has a complicated father."
I looked at her.
The officer frowned.
"Ma'am?"
She smiled.
"Nothing."
I said nothing either.
Because I had learned something.
Every word mattered.
That night, Raymond stayed at the cottage.
We locked every door.
At midnight, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Silence.
Then Marcus whispered:
"Dad."
I jumped up.
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Who has you?"
"I'm not being held."
"Then where are you?"
"Somewhere safe."
I looked at Raymond.
He was already signaling me to keep him talking.
"Marcus, listen carefully."
"There's something you don't know."
"Tell me."
"Renata has been moving money."
"What money?"
"Your money."
My chest tightened.
"What are you talking about?"
"She found an old account."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"Marcus."
"I swear."
A sound came through the phone.
A door closing.
Someone speaking in the background.
Marcus whispered:
"I have to go."
"Wait."
He breathed:
"Don't trust Raymond."
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Raymond slowly lowered his hand.
"What did he say?"
I told him.
Raymond's face became unreadable.
"You believe him?"
"I don't know."
"Then don't make decisions until we verify."
Three minutes later, an email arrived.
From Marcus's account.
Attached was a photograph.
A bank statement.
An account balance.
$4,147,880.22.
I stared at it.
Raymond stared too.
"What bank?"
"A private institution."
"Whose account?"
The account holder name appeared.
HAYES FAMILY TRUST.
My hands went cold.
"That's impossible."
Raymond zoomed in.
Then he said:
"This account is active."
"Who has access?"
He didn't answer.
I already knew.
We checked the trust documents.
There were three authorized parties.
Me.
Patricia.
And a corporate trustee.
The trustee had changed two years ago.
I frowned.
"Who changed it?"
Raymond checked the file.
Then went pale.
"Marcus."
I stood.
"How?"
"Power of attorney."
"I never gave him power."
"Patricia did."
I remembered her letter.
Do not trust Marcus with this box.
But she had still given him access to the trust.
Why?
Then something clicked.
Maybe Patricia hadn't been protecting me from Marcus.
Maybe she had been protecting Marcus from Renata.
I sat again.
"Call the trustee."
Raymond did.
The trustee refused to discuss the account without a formal review.
"Then we request one."
"We already did."
"What?"
"It happened two hours ago."
"Who requested it?"
Raymond looked at me.
"Renata."
My stomach dropped.
"How?"
"She claims to be acting under Marcus's authority."
That meant something was happening right now.
Money was moving.
At 2:13 in the morning, the trustee sent us a partial transaction record.
A transfer had been initiated.
$750,000.
Destination:
Northstar Development Holdings.
The same name from the ledger.
I stared at the screen.
"Stop it."
"We're trying."
"Can you?"
Raymond looked at me.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because the instruction came through an authorized channel."
"Marcus."
"Yes."
I felt sick.
He had betrayed me.
Or he had been forced to.
I didn't know which was worse.
Then the phone rang.
It was Renata.
I answered.
"Where is my son?"
She laughed softly.
"You always think this is about Marcus."
"Where is he?"
"Safe."
"Bring him home."
"You still don't understand."
"Understand what?"
"You cannot stop this."
"What are you trying to take?"
Silence.
Then she said:
"Everything your family stole."
My blood ran cold.
"My family stole nothing."
"That's what you tell yourself."
"From whom?"
She whispered a name.
"Daniel Mercer."
Then she hung up.
Raymond looked at me.
"Why would she mention Daniel?"
I didn't know.
Then I remembered what Daniel had said.
Four million dollars.
Money that disappeared.
Records underground.
My father.
Northstar.
And now Renata.
At 8:00 the next morning, a police officer arrived at my cottage.
He had a warrant.
Not for me.
For the property.
I read it twice.
"Why?"
"Suspected evidence connected to a financial crime."
"Who requested this?"
The officer couldn't say.
But when he handed me a copy of the supporting affidavit, I saw the name.
Renata.
She had told authorities that I was hiding evidence on the property.
She was trying to turn my own cottage into a crime scene.
I looked at Raymond.
"We need to leave."
"No."
"What?"
"I've been waiting for this."
He pulled out a document.
"Your wife prepared for this too."
"What is it?"
"A sealed deposition."
"About what?"
He looked at me.
"About Renata."
Then he handed me the first page.
At the top were Patricia's words.
If Renata ever claims Walter is hiding illegal assets, she is lying.
May you like
Below that was another sentence.
Because Renata is the person who tried to steal them first.
