Chapter 2 - The Recording in My BagEthan led me upstairs to his old room.
He shut the door and immediately grabbed a towel.
“Sit.”
I obeyed.
He knelt in front of me and began drying my hair.
His anger hadn't faded.
It had simply become quieter.
“Mom,” he said, “why didn't you tell me you were coming?”
I looked at him.
“Would you have let me come if I had?”
He hesitated.
“No.”
“Exactly.”
He sat beside me.
“You could have called me.”
“I wanted to see something for myself.”
“What?”
“The people you plan to marry into.”
He looked away.
That hurt him.
I knew it.
But I didn't take it back.
Ethan had always believed people were better than they were.
That was one of the things I loved most about him.
It was also one of the things that frightened me.
I opened my grocery bag.
The food was ruined.
The milk had leaked.
The envelope, however, was dry.
Ethan noticed it.
“What is that?”
I handed it to him.
He opened it.
Inside was a bank statement.
His expression changed immediately.
“What is this?”
“Something you should have seen three weeks ago.”
He read the first page.
Then the second.
Then the third.
“There are transfers from Mitchell Strategic Consulting.”
“Yes.”
“And they're going to...”
He stopped.
His eyes lifted.
“To Vanessa?”
“Indirectly.”
He looked back down.
The company was owned by Daniel Mitchell, Vanessa's father.
The transfers were disguised as consulting expenses.
But the dates told a different story.
Almost every payment occurred within twenty-four hours of Ethan authorizing a new contract.
Ethan swallowed.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know how much of it was coincidence.”
He stared at me.
“So you investigated them.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Six weeks.”
His face tightened.
“Mom.”
I put my hand on his shoulder.
“I wasn't trying to destroy your relationship.”
“You followed them.”
“I followed the money.”
That shut him up.
I reached into the bag again and pulled out my phone.
“I recorded the party.”
His eyes widened.
“All of it?”
“Almost.”
I played the first clip.
Vanessa's voice filled the room.
“Beggars don't get married here.”
Then Patricia:
“Search it before she leaves. We can't have anything stolen.”
Then Daniel:
“Get her off the property.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
His breathing became slow.
Then came Vanessa's sentence.
“After the wedding, Ethan will have to choose.”
The recording stopped.
Ethan stared at the floor.
“She really said that.”
“Yes.”
“And my fiancée's parents were discussing you like you were a criminal.”
“Yes.”
He stood.
“I need to talk to her.”
“No.”
His head snapped toward me.
“Why?”
“Because angry people make mistakes.”
“I don't care.”
“I do.”
I walked to the window.
Outside, I could see the party beginning to dissolve.
Cars were leaving.
Guests were whispering.
Vanessa stood near the fountain.
She was smiling again.
But nobody was smiling with her.
“There's something else,” I said.
Ethan went still.
“What?”
“The company your father-in-law owns isn't the company stealing your money.”
“What does that mean?”
“Mitchell Strategic Consulting is only the middle layer.”
He stared at me.
“Who owns the company above it?”
“I don't know.”
His face tightened.
“Then how do you know there is one?”
“Because I followed the account numbers.”
I turned around.
“The money disappears into an offshore holding company.”
Ethan said nothing.
Then someone knocked.
Three times.
Slowly.
Ethan opened the door.
A man stood outside.
Late forties.
Gray suit.
The same man from the patio.
The man who had been recording.
Ethan frowned.
“Can I help you?”
The man looked at me.
Not Ethan.
Me.
“Mrs. Carter.”
My heart stopped.
Ethan noticed.
“You know my mother?”
The man swallowed.
“I've been trying to speak with her for ten days.”
I stepped forward.
“Who are you?”
He glanced down the hallway.
Then lowered his voice.
“Someone who knows what Vanessa Mitchell's family is really after.”
Ethan moved closer.
“What are they after?”
The man looked directly at me.
“You.”
I didn't move.
He reached into his jacket and handed me a small black envelope.
“There is a photograph inside.”
I opened it.
It showed me standing outside a bank.
Behind me stood Vanessa.
And beside Vanessa was a man I had never seen before.
Except I had.
He had been my husband's lawyer.
The lawyer who handled my husband's estate eleven years earlier.
I looked up.
“Where did you get this?”
The man's face had gone pale.
“Because the man standing beside her is dead.”
Ethan stared at him.
“What?”
The man whispered:
“He died three years ago.”
May you like
I looked at the photograph again.
And suddenly, the entire case changed.
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