Chapter 3 - The photograph had been taken from across the street.I was standing in the kitchen.
Morning sunlight poured through the windows.
I was holding a coffee mug.
Richard was behind me.
We looked like a happy married couple.
The photographer had captured us through the glass.
I studied the image again.
There was something wrong.
In the reflection of the kitchen window, I could see a dark shape outside.
A person.
Watching.
Evelyn enlarged the image.
The figure wore a baseball cap.
Dark jacket.
Gloves.
The face was hidden.
“Can your investigator trace the number?”
“He's trying.”
“Whoever sent this knows where I lived.”
Evelyn nodded.
“And whoever took it wanted you to know they were watching.”
I barely slept.
By morning, Daniel had discovered something worse.
Richard had filed paperwork to become interim chairman of Hayes Technologies.
He had also contacted the board.
Three directors supported him.
Two refused.
The remaining four were undecided.
Richard needed five votes.
My shares represented six.
Even after my supposed death, those shares remained frozen.
He needed them.
And suddenly I understood why he had killed me.
Not because he hated me.
Because he needed my signature.
A dead wife was inconvenient.
A dead wife with millions in voting shares was manageable.
But a living wife with protected shares was impossible.
“We need proof,” I told Evelyn.
“We have enough to know he attempted murder.”
“Not enough for the board.”
Evelyn looked at me.
“What are you thinking?”
“I want to know what he does when he thinks he's won.”
The next morning, we staged my death.
A burned vehicle was discovered near the cliffs.
Inside were items from my purse.
A broken watch.
A blood-covered scarf.
Fragments of jewelry.
The investigators believed they were mine.
Richard was informed.
He held a press conference.
I watched from the safe house.
He looked devastated again.
He thanked rescue teams.
Praised my “strength.”
Said he would never stop searching.
Then, thirty minutes later, something happened.
His attorney arrived at Hayes Technologies.
Daniel was inside.
He secretly recorded their conversation.
Richard's attorney asked one question.
“Has the body been recovered?”
“No.”
“Then you can't legally access the trust yet.”
Richard's voice came through the recording.
“How long?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether the estate is considered disputed.”
Richard slammed something onto the table.
“I don't care about the estate.”
The attorney laughed softly.
“You're forgetting who you're talking to.”
Silence.
Then Richard said:
“How much does it cost to make a death certificate appear?”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The first crack in his perfect mask.
But the recording wasn't the biggest discovery.
Daniel had accessed internal company emails.
Months before the helicopter ride, Richard had secretly contacted someone in our legal department.
He asked for an old shareholder ledger.
The request had been denied.
The legal department employee's name was Nora Vance.
I looked at Evelyn.
“Nora works for Hayes?”
“She did.”
“Did?”
“She resigned six weeks ago.”
“Why?”
Evelyn didn't answer.
Daniel sent another file.
It was an employment record.
Nora had been working for Hayes Technologies for seventeen years.
Her hiring date was the same year my father died.
That couldn't be a coincidence.
Then I saw the emergency contact listed on her file.
Ethan Vance.
The same surname from Richard's payment records.
I searched the address.
My stomach dropped.
Ethan Vance owned a private aviation company.
The company that had leased Richard's helicopter.
I looked up.
“That's the helicopter company.”
“Yes,” Evelyn said.
“Richard didn't just hire them.”
“No.”
“He knew them.”
“Apparently.”
The room went silent.
My baby shifted beneath my hand.
For a moment, everything else disappeared.
Then Evelyn's phone rang.
She answered.
Her face changed.
“Where?”
She stood.
“Send me the recording.”
She hung up.
“What happened?”
“One of the pilots just contacted us.”
“The pilot?”
“The helicopter had a second recording system.”
My heart pounded.
“Does it show Richard pushing me?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.”
“Then what?”
She stared at me.
“It recorded what Richard said before the helicopter took off.”
“What did he say?”
Evelyn swallowed.
“He was talking to someone on the radio.”
“And?”
“He called them by name.”
I leaned forward.
“Who?”
Evelyn looked directly at me.
“Nora.”
Then Daniel forwarded the audio.
We listened.
Richard's voice crackled through the recording.
“Once she's gone, the trust opens.”
A second voice answered.
“You're sure?”
Richard laughed.
“By tonight, I'll own everything.”
The voice on the radio was female.
Calm.
Older.
And unmistakably familiar.
I had heard it before.
But I couldn't place it.
Then she said:
“Just don't make the same mistake your father made.”
The recording ended.
I looked at Evelyn.
“My father?”
She said nothing.
Because we both knew.
The woman wasn't simply talking about Richard's father.
May you like
She was talking about mine.
And someone had been hiding the truth from me for twenty-two years.
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