Chapter 7 - THE MAN WITH MY FATHER'S WATCH
For the first time since this nightmare began, I felt something stronger than anger.
Fear.
Not the fear of losing my marriage.
Not the fear of losing money.
The fear that everything I believed about my family had been built on a lie.
My father had died when I was twelve.
I remembered the funeral.
The black dress my mother made me wear.
The flowers.
The church.
The coffin.
The terrible silence afterward.
I remembered touching his hand.
Cold.
Still.
Gone.
So the man in the hotel footage could not be him.
But he had my father's face.
And his watch.
Daniel watched me carefully.
“Jessi.”
“I’m okay.”
“You don't have to be.”
“I need to know.”
Luke nodded.
“We'll find out.”
The man was not my father.
His name was Raymond Hale.
He was seventy-one.
Retired accountant.
Former employee of my father's investment group.
He had worked with my father for fourteen years.
And according to his records, he had died seven years ago.
But he was alive.
Living under another name.
In a small town three hours away.
We found him that afternoon.
He opened his front door and looked at us.
Then looked at me.
His face collapsed.
“Oh.”
I stared.
“You knew me.”
He nodded.
“You look exactly like your father.”
“Why do you have his watch?”
Raymond looked down.
“Because he gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Two weeks before he died.”
My heart raced.
“He wasn't dead.”
Raymond stared.
“Your father died.”
“Then why did you say he gave you the watch?”
“Because he did.”
I didn't understand.
“Explain.”
Raymond invited us inside.
His house was small.
Old photographs covered the walls.
My father appeared in several.
Laughing.
Younger.
Alive.
But the dates were all before his death.
Raymond sat.
“Your father discovered someone was stealing from his investment group.”
“Who?”
“Elliot Grant.”
I stared.
“Ivan's partner?”
“Yes.”
“But Elliot was only a junior associate then.”
“Exactly.”
“Why would my father trust him?”
“He didn't.”
Raymond sighed.
“He suspected him.”
“What happened?”
“Your father planned to expose him.”
“And then he died.”
“Yes.”
“Was it an accident?”
Raymond looked at me.
“No.”
My hands went cold.
“Who killed him?”
“I don't know.”
“But you know something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Your mother.”
I stared.
“What about her?”
“She knew your father was in danger.”
“Why didn't she tell me?”
“Because she was protecting you.”
“From whom?”
Raymond looked at Daniel.
Then Luke.
Then back at me.
“From your father's second family.”
My breath caught.
“Claire.”
“Yes.”
“But Claire was a baby.”
Raymond nodded.
“That's why your mother believed she was dangerous.”
I frowned.
“How could a baby be dangerous?”
“She wasn't.”
“Then who?”
Raymond leaned forward.
“Her mother.”
“Who was she?”
He hesitated.
Then said,
“Evelyn Grant.”
I stared.
“Elliot's mother?”
Raymond nodded.
“Elliot didn't start the scheme.”
“What?”
“His mother did.”
My stomach tightened.
“She manipulated your father.”
“For what?”
“The investment group.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
“Then why Claire?”
“Because Claire was her leverage.”
I understood.
Elliot had inherited the scheme.
Claire had been raised inside it.
Ivan had become the perfect partner because he wanted money.
My family had been trapped inside someone else's financial war.
But there was still one question.
“What happened to my father?”
Raymond looked down.
“He disappeared for three days before his death.”
“Where?”
“The Crossfield Hotel.”
My blood ran cold.
“The same hotel?”
“Yes.”
“Who was with him?”
Raymond hesitated.
“Your mother.”
“And?”
He looked at me.
“Your father left the hotel with another woman.”
“Who?”
“Claire's mother.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“Because he wanted to give her money to disappear.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
“She stayed.”
“Yes.”
“Then what happened?”
Raymond closed his eyes.
“She told him she had proof that Elliot had stolen from the company.”
“And?”
“Your father planned to turn the evidence over.”
I whispered,
“Then he was killed.”
Raymond nodded.
We left with a box of records.
Inside was my father's watch.
Raymond had kept it for twenty-two years.
He handed it to me.
“He wanted you to have it.”
I held it.
It still worked.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Inside the back cover was a tiny inscription.
For Jessi.
Always look behind the obvious.
I cried.
Not because of the words.
Because my father had remembered me.
Even when I was twelve.
Even when he knew something terrible was coming.
Back at Noah's house, Fiona ran to me.
“You're back!”
I knelt.
“I am.”
She hugged me.
Then looked at the watch.
“What's that?”
“My father's.”
“Your grandpa's?”
“Yes.”
She touched it.
“It's pretty.”
I smiled.
“He wanted me to have it.”
Fiona studied the watch.
Then suddenly frowned.
“Mommy.”
“What?”
“There is something inside.”
“What?”
She pointed.
A tiny seam.
I opened the back.
A small folded piece of paper fell out.
Everyone froze.
I unfolded it.
Three words.
LOOK UNDER HOME.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Ethan looked at the watch.
“Maybe your father left something in the house.”
My heart sank.
The house.
The one Ivan was trying to take.
The one we had left.
I didn't want to go back.
But we had to.
We returned after midnight.
The house was dark.
Police had already secured it.
Daniel came with me.
Luke stayed outside.
I walked into the kitchen.
The torn dress was gone.
The scissors were gone.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
I went upstairs.
My bedroom.
The closet.
The floor.
Nothing.
Then Fiona's room.
I remembered her drawing.
The photograph.
The purple blanket.
I knelt.
Looked under the bed.
Nothing.
Then I saw the floorboard.
One board sat slightly higher than the others.
Daniel crouched.
He lifted it.
Beneath it was a metal box.
Inside:
photographs.
Letters.
Bank records.
And a cassette tape.
My father's voice.
“If you found this, Jessi, then I am gone.”
I covered my mouth.
He continued.
“I need you to know one thing.”
A pause.
“I never abandoned you.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“I was forced to make choices that looked cruel because the people around me were watching.”
The tape crackled.
“Your mother believed Claire was dead.”
I closed my eyes.
“She wasn't.”
Daniel looked at me.
My father's voice continued.
“Claire is your sister.”
Another pause.
“But she is not the person you should fear.”
I felt cold.
“The person you should fear is the one who benefits when the family turns against itself.”
The tape stopped.
Daniel stared.
“Who?”
I rewound it.
Played it again.
The same words.
The person who benefits.
Then a second recording began.
My father's voice was quieter.
“Ivan Bennett is not the architect.”
I froze.
Daniel stared at me.
My father continued.
“He is being used.”
The tape clicked.
Then one final sentence.
“If Ivan ever turns against Jessi, ask him about the red ledger.”
The recording ended.
I looked at Daniel.
“What is the red ledger?”
Before he could answer, footsteps sounded downstairs.
We froze.
Someone was inside the house.
Daniel reached for his phone.
Then a voice called from the hallway.
“Jessi.”
Ivan.
I stepped out.
He stood at the bottom of the stairs.
His face was pale.
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
He looked at the box in my hands.
Then his eyes widened.
“You found it.”
I stared.
“You knew?”
He swallowed.
“Yes.”
“What is the red ledger?”
Ivan closed his eyes.
“I hoped you'd never find out.”
“Why?”
He looked at me.
“Because if you find it, people will come after Fiona.”
My blood turned cold.
“Who?”
Ivan whispered,
“The people your father was running from.”
Then a car stopped outside.
The headlights swept across the windows.
Ivan looked toward the door.
May you like
His face changed.
“They found us.”
