Chapter 10 - Mason’s ConfessionI didn’t accuse Mason.
That would have been too easy.
Instead, I asked him one question.
“Did my father know you?”
He nodded.
“Before you were born.”
“Why?”
Mason looked at the floor.
“My father worked for yours.”
“And?”
“He helped him investigate Caldwell.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because your mother threatened my family.”
“Again with the threats.”
He closed his eyes.
“I was scared.”
I walked away.
Trust was becoming a currency I could no longer afford.
The USB drive contained financial records.
Video files.
Audio recordings.
And one document titled:
PROJECT BRADLEY.
I opened it.
My father had documented everything.
Caldwell had been laundering money through construction contracts.
My mother had helped create shell companies.
The money was moved through properties.
Loans.
Donations.
Fake consulting fees.
The house had been used as collateral.
My $3,000 payments had helped cover legal fees.
Mason had been right.
It was never about groceries.
It was about funding the takeover.
Then I found an audio recording.
My mother’s voice.
Clear.
Cold.
She was speaking to Caldwell.
“We only need Connor to sign.”
“And if he refuses?”
“He won’t.”
“And Amy?”
“She’ll leave.”
“You’re sure?”
My mother laughed.
“She’ll leave after I convince Connor she’s the problem.”
My fists tightened.
Then came the sentence that made me stop breathing.
“And Frederick?”
A pause.
“If necessary, we take the boy.”
I shut the laptop.
Amy heard everything.
She looked devastated.
“She wanted to destroy our marriage.”
I nodded.
“She wanted to replace it.”
That night, Mason confessed everything.
He had worked with my mother under pressure.
But he had also been secretly collecting evidence.
He had hidden copies of the documents.
He had warned Elliot.
He had tried to stop the transfer.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I believed him.
Maybe that was foolish.
But I needed one person I could still believe in.
Then the phone rang.
It was the police.
Caldwell had escaped custody.
Someone had attacked the officers transporting him.
The suspect description?
A woman.
Blonde.
Mid-fifties.
My mother.
I felt a cold certainty settle into my bones.
She was coming for us.
But the police had more information.
Caldwell had left behind a message.
A location.
An old mansion outside Nashville.
The house had belonged to my grandfather.
It had been abandoned after his death.
The officer said we should not go there.
I said I was going.
Because the final piece of my father’s evidence was missing.
And I knew my mother had it.
We entered the mansion shortly after midnight.
The doors were unlocked.
Every room was empty.
Then we heard footsteps upstairs.
I looked at Mason.
He raised his flashlight.
We climbed.
At the end of the hallway was a locked door.
We broke it open.
Inside was a desk.
On the desk was a single envelope.
My name was written across it.
I opened it.
One sentence.
YOUR FATHER DIDN’T DIE BECAUSE HE KNEW TOO MUCH.
Beneath it was another line.
HE DIED BECAUSE HE TRUSTED THE WRONG PERSON.
Then the lights came on.
My mother stood in the doorway.
May you like
Holding a gun.
And behind her stood Amy.
