Chapter 10 - The Call From a Dead ManNobody spoke for almost a minute.
Then I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because my mind couldn't process it.
“Harold is dead.”
“I know,” Nathan said.
“So someone is pretending to be him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To frighten you.”
“Or to tell me something.”
Nathan looked at me carefully.
“What?”
“The message.”
Forty-eight hours.
For what?
The vault?
The ledger?
The house?
I opened Harold’s leather folder.
Inside the first signed document was another handwritten note.
I hadn't noticed it before.
When the clock begins, trust the woman who hates me.
I read it twice.
“Who hates Harold?”
Lauren immediately said:
“Me.”
We all stared at her.
She smiled weakly.
“I hated him.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I was involved.”
Marcus stepped backward.
“How involved?”
Lauren looked at him.
“I was working for Richard.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Two years.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Why?”
“Because he had my sister.”
The room fell silent.
“You have a sister?”
Lauren's eyes filled.
“Half-sister.”
“Where is she?”
“Richard knows.”
“What does that mean?”
“He disappeared her.”
My stomach tightened.
“Evelyn.”
Lauren nodded.
“Her real name isn't Evelyn.”
I stared.
“Then who is she?”
Lauren whispered:
“Rebecca Vale.”
Marcus's face drained of color.
Richard's daughter.
His sister.
The woman Harold had protected.
The woman who had the ledger.
The woman whose existence could destroy Richard.
Everything was suddenly connected.
I opened the pendant again.
The tiny key rested in my palm.
“What opens the vault?”
Nathan answered.
“Something beneath the house.”
“What?”
“A section of the old foundation.”
He pulled out a map.
“There.”
He pointed to a location below the fireplace.
“Harold built the access after Rebecca disappeared.”
“Can we open it?”
“Yes.”
“Then let's do it.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“The lock is timed.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Harold designed it so the vault cannot be opened until a specific date.”
“What date?”
Nathan pointed to the document.
Tomorrow.
Exactly four years after Harold’s death.
I stared at the date.
Tomorrow.
The forty-eight-hour deadline suddenly made sense.
Someone had known about Harold’s timing mechanism.
Someone was waiting.
“Then we open it tomorrow.”
Nathan nodded.
“But we need to survive until then.”
A noise came from upstairs.
A heavy object hitting the floor.
Marcus looked up.
Lauren grabbed his hand.
Nathan raised his weapon.
We climbed slowly.
The front door was open.
The wind pushed through the house.
But there was no one.
Then I noticed something.
A line of wet footprints.
They crossed the living room.
Passed my fireplace.
And stopped at Harold’s old chair.
The chair was gone.
But one thing remained.
A small wooden box.
I had never seen it before.
I opened it.
Inside was a cassette tape.
Harold’s voice was written on the label.
FOR PATRICIA ONLY.
I found an old player in a cabinet.
The tape clicked.
Harold began speaking.
“Pat, by the time you hear this, I may already be gone.”
His voice trembled.
“There is something I never told you about Marcus.”
I closed my eyes.
Then he said the sentence that changed everything.
“Marcus was never supposed to be our son.”
The tape stopped.
I stared at the machine.
Then it clicked again.
A second recording began.
But this time it wasn't Harold speaking.
It was Marcus.
May you like
And he was crying.
“Mom, I'm sorry.”
