Chapter 6 - My Stepmother's SecretThe police had already arrived by the time I reached Blackwood House.

Melissa sat on the front steps with a blanket around her shoulders.

The gun lay on the grass nearby.

She looked terrified.

For once, I believed it.

“You came,” she whispered.

I stopped several feet away.

“You broke into my house.”

Her eyes widened.

“Our house.”

“No.”

I stared at her.

“It's mine.”

She flinched.

Richard stepped between us.

“Detective, what happened?”

The officer explained.

Melissa had entered through a service door.

She claimed she came to speak with me.

Then she went upstairs.

Then she heard someone inside the bedroom.

She found the gun in a drawer.

“And whose gun was it?” I asked.

The detective shook his head.

“Unregistered.”

I looked at Melissa.

“You expect me to believe you?”

She stared at me.

“You have every reason not to.”

“Why were you in my mother's room?”

She lowered her head.

“I wanted something.”

“What?”

“A photograph.”

“Of what?”

She looked toward the house.

“Your mother.”

My stomach tightened.

“Why?”

Melissa hesitated.

Then said,

“Because she knew what your father had done.”

Silence.

Richard looked at her sharply.

“What exactly are you accusing Daniel of?”

Melissa's voice cracked.

“He didn't kill her.”

I froze.

“You're sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then who did?”

She stared at me.

“I don't know.”

I stepped closer.

“But you know something.”

She nodded.

“Your grandfather hired someone to investigate the crash.”

“I know.”

“No.”

She shook her head.

“You don't know everything.”

She reached into her coat and pulled out an old photograph.

It showed my mother standing beside a stranger.

A man in his thirties.

I recognized him.

My father.

But this photograph was different.

My father was younger.

My mother was pregnant.

And between them was James Brooks.

On the back were four words:

The night before the crash.

I looked at Melissa.

“What happened that night?”

She whispered,

“Your mother told James she was leaving Daniel.”

“Why?”

“Because she discovered he was stealing from the company.”

I clenched my fists.

“And my grandfather stopped her?”

“No.”

She looked straight into my eyes.

“He helped her.”

That didn't make sense.

“Then why did they fight?”

“Because James wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From your father.”

The words hit me.

“What did Daniel want?”

Melissa's eyes filled with tears.

“He wanted control of the company.”

“He already had a position.”

“Not control.”

She looked at the mansion.

“Your grandfather planned to remove him.”

I felt dizzy.

“And my mother?”

“She was supposed to testify.”

“About what?”

Melissa whispered,

“Fraud.”

A car door slammed in the driveway.

Everyone turned.

Daniel Brooks had arrived.

He looked at Melissa.

Then me.

Then the photograph in my hand.

His face hardened.

“You weren't supposed to find that.”

I stared at him.

“What wasn't I supposed to find?”

He said nothing.

I stepped forward.

“The photograph.”

Still nothing.

“The account.”

His silence answered me.

Then he looked at Richard.

“You have no idea what James was preparing to do.”

Richard responded coldly.

“We'll learn.”

My father turned toward me.

“Nathan, your mother died because of this family.”

“What does that mean?”

He looked at me.

And for the first time, his eyes held something that wasn't anger.

It was grief.

“Your grandfather wasn't trying to protect you from me.”

He swallowed.

“He was trying to protect you from the man who actually killed your mother.”

“Who?”

My father stared toward the trees.

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Then whispered,

“Victor Hale.”