Chapter 13 - The AirportThe airport was chaos.
Federal agents moved quickly.
My mother and Richard were stopped before boarding.
The suitcase was confiscated.
When they opened it, they found documents.
Hundreds of pages.
Bank records.
Corporate transfers.
Property deeds.
Forged signatures.
And one sealed envelope.
My name was on it.
I refused to open it at first.
Then I recognized the handwriting.
My father.
Inside was a single sentence.
The truth about my death is not in this suitcase.
I stared at it.
Then I found a second line.
Look beneath the house.
My house.
The house I had bought after my divorce.
The one my mother had been trying to claim.
Why would my father hide anything there?
We returned home.
Officer Daniels accompanied me.
We searched the basement.
Nothing.
The garage.
Nothing.
The attic.
Nothing.
Then Ethan noticed something.
“Mom?”
“What?”
“Why is that wall different?”
He pointed toward the basement.
There was a section of drywall slightly newer than the rest.
I knocked on it.
Hollow.
We opened it.
Behind the wall was a narrow space.
Inside was a steel box.
I stared at it.
My father's brass key opened it.
Inside was a video camera.
Several tapes.
And a notebook.
We played the first tape.
My father appeared on screen.
Alive.
Tired.
Terrified.
“If you're watching this, my plan failed.”
I couldn't breathe.
He continued.
“Richard believes the trust is the key. He is wrong.”
He looked directly at the camera.
“The real danger isn't the money.”
I leaned closer.
“Three people know what I found.”
He named them.
Marlene.
Richard.
And someone else.
A person whose name I had never heard.
“Jonathan Vale.”
Elena gasped.
“Who is he?”
“A former federal auditor,” she said.
My father continued.
“Jonathan discovered that the trust was being used to hide a much larger operation.”
A network.
Dozens of shell companies.
Political donations.
Real estate laundering.
Offshore transfers.
My father's company was one piece.
The family was only the entry point.
I stared at the screen.
Mom wasn't the mastermind.
She was a participant.
Richard wasn't the mastermind either.
He was a middleman.
Jonathan Vale had discovered the real organization.
And my father had intended to expose it.
Then the video changed.
My father looked directly into the camera.
“Amanda, there is something I never told you.”
His face softened.
“You were never supposed to inherit my business.”
I froze.
“What?”
The screen continued.
“I wanted you to inherit freedom.”
Then the video ended.
I sat in silence.
That night, federal agents told me Jonathan Vale was missing.
He had disappeared two years earlier.
And his last known location was...
May you like
New Jersey.
My town.
