Chapter 8 - The Key Was a TrapThe man raised his hands.
“Don't move.”
Noah stood behind him.
My son looked terrified.
I took one step forward.
“Let him go.”
The man smiled.
“Your father would have been proud.”
“Who are you?”
“Someone cleaning up an old problem.”
Evelyn appeared behind me.
“Put the bag down.”
The man laughed.
“You don't know what's inside.”
He opened the backpack.
The key was gone.
Instead, there was a flash drive.
I stared.
“That wasn't there.”
“No?”
He turned toward me.
“Then explain why it has your name on it.”
He held up the drive.
My full name was engraved in metal.
CLaire CARTER.
I felt dizzy.
“Where did you get that?”
“From the second account.”
Evelyn stepped closer.
“What second account?”
The man pointed at her.
“You already know.”
Then he ran.
Evelyn chased him into the hallway.
I grabbed Noah.
“Stay with me.”
Behind us, Vanessa was shaking.
“What do we do?”
I looked at the flash drive.
“We find out what he wants.”
Police arrived within minutes.
Richard was gone.
The gunman disappeared.
The building cameras had been disabled.
It was deliberate.
Someone had planned the entire encounter.
Back at the apartment, the flash drive was connected to an isolated computer.
A folder opened.
Inside were financial records.
But this time, the account was in my name.
Not Carter Construction.
Not the family trust.
My personal identity.
Millions of dollars had moved through an offshore account using my name.
Evelyn stared.
“This is identity fraud.”
“Or a setup.”
She nodded.
“To make it look like I stole the money.”
A second folder contained scanned passports.
Mine.
Daniel's.
Vanessa's.
Richard's.
Thomas Reed's.
Marcus Vale's.
Then a sixth.
I opened it.
My father.
His passport photo.
But the document date was wrong.
It had been issued eight months after his death.
I looked at Evelyn.
“Someone forged a passport using my father's identity.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To move money.”
“Where?”
The destination account was listed.
Singapore.
Then Switzerland.
Then an account in Luxembourg.
I stared at the numbers.
The total exceeded seven million dollars.
Not four million.
Not 2.4 million.
Seven.
And one account had been funded the week before my father's death.
I noticed the beneficiary.
NOAH CARTER.
I felt my throat tighten.
“Why is everything in Noah's name?”
Evelyn didn't answer.
I turned to her.
“You know something.”
“I suspect something.”
“What?”
She stared at the records.
“Your father may have been protecting Noah from the beginning.”
“From what?”
A knock sounded.
We all froze.
Police stood outside.
One officer held up a photograph.
“We found this in the parking garage.”
It showed Daniel.
He was getting into a black sedan.
Beside him was Thomas Reed.
The timestamp was two hours earlier.
“He wasn't at the office,” the officer said.
“No.”
“He was at the airport.”
My heart sank.
“Is he leaving the country?”
“We don't know.”
Then the officer showed me another photograph.
The black sedan was parked beside a private hangar.
A woman stood at the entrance.
Vanessa recognized her.
She covered her mouth.
“That's Richard's wife.”
“Richard is married?”
She nodded.
“He told me he was divorced.”
Evelyn looked at the photograph.
“His wife died three years ago.”
I stared.
The woman in the photograph was impossible.
Then Vanessa whispered:
“No.”
“What?”
“That isn't his wife.”
“Who is she?”
Vanessa looked at me.
“Your mother.”
My breath stopped.
“My mother has been dead for twelve years.”
“I know.”
The room went silent.
The officer asked:
“Are you sure?”
Vanessa nodded.
“I saw her in Daniel's office.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
I looked at Evelyn.
She was already opening another file.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
She turned the screen toward me.
It was a security-camera still from the airport.
The woman was walking beside Daniel.
Beside Thomas.
Beside Richard.
Her face was clear.
She looked exactly like my mother.
And beneath the image was a travel record.
Name:
Helen Carter.
May you like
Passport issued:
Six months ago.
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