Chapter 5 - THE RED LEDGERArthur spent the entire afternoon searching Robert’s records.
Nothing.
No red ledger.
No Black Harbor account.
No Victor Hale.
No explanation.
At sunset, I walked alone through the penthouse.
For the first time, I wasn't looking at the luxury.
I was looking for clues.
Robert had built the place like a fortress.
There were hidden panels.
Locked drawers.
A private elevator.
A security room.
I remembered something.
Our wedding photograph.
Robert had always kept one copy.
Not in our house.
Here.
I found it inside a drawer in the library.
I turned it over.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the frame was loose.
I opened it.
Behind the photograph was a small piece of paper.
A single sentence.
THE FIRST LIE WAS TOLD IN 1998.
The year Robert had suddenly become distant.
The year he had stopped talking about work.
The year he had insisted we move from Boston to New York.
The year he claimed he wanted a fresh start.
I called Arthur.
“What happened in 1998?”
He was silent.
“You know something.”
“I know enough to tell you that Robert didn't meet Victor Hale until 2001.”
“Then why does the note start in 1998?”
“I don't know.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
I froze.
Arthur whispered through the phone,
“Lock yourself in the bedroom.”
I did.
The footsteps stopped outside.
Then silence.
I waited.
Thirty seconds.
One minute.
Nothing.
I opened the door.
No one.
But the library window was open.
Cold air swept through the room.
On the floor lay a red leather notebook.
I picked it up.
The red ledger.
I called Arthur.
“It's here.”
He arrived within twenty minutes.
We opened it together.
The first page contained names.
Dozens of them.
Bankers.
Politicians.
Businessmen.
Judges.
Then one name stopped me.
Daniel Whitmore.
My son.
I stared at it.
“No.”
Arthur looked over my shoulder.
His expression became grim.
Beside Daniel's name was a date.
Daniel had been eleven years old.
“How could he possibly be involved?”
“He wasn't.”
Arthur turned the page.
A payment record.
A trust transfer.
A beneficiary designation.
Then another name.
Vanessa Reed.
Arthur looked at me.
“Your daughter-in-law.”
I felt sick.
“She met Daniel when they were in college.”
“Then why is her name here years before they married?”
Arthur didn't answer.
We kept reading.
The ledger revealed payments from Black Harbor to dozens of people.
Some amounts were millions.
Some were thousands.
Then, on page forty-seven, we found a note.
Daniel is not the beneficiary.
He is the key.
I stared at the sentence.
“What does that mean?”
Arthur looked terrified.
“I think Robert knew someone would eventually come after Daniel.”
“Why?”
Arthur turned another page.
A family tree had been drawn by hand.
Robert.
His father.
His grandfather.
Then a name I'd never heard.
Samuel Whitmore.
Below it was another name.
Elias Whitmore.
And beneath Elias was a note.
THE ORIGINAL HEIR.
I looked at Arthur.
“What does that mean?”
Before he could answer, the penthouse lights went out.
All of them.
Then every lock clicked simultaneously.
Arthur grabbed my arm.
“Stay behind me.”
The security system came alive.
One camera after another went dark.
Someone was inside the building.
Then a voice came through the penthouse intercom.
A man's voice.
Calm.
Almost amused.
“Mrs. Whitmore.”
I froze.
“Give me the ledger.”
Arthur shouted,
“Who are you?”
The voice laughed softly.
“Ask Robert.”
Then the intercom went silent.
A second later, the bedroom door opened by itself.
There was nobody there.
Except for a fresh red rose sitting on the pillow.
May you like
Under it was a card.
YOU HAVE THREE DAYS.
