Chapter 3 - THE WATCH IN MY FATHER'S POCKET
I called Dad immediately.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Daniel was already moving.
“We need to find him.”
“I know.”
“Do you have access to his location?”
“No.”
“Your mother?”
“She won't answer.”
I looked at the photograph again.
Dad was wearing his old brown coat.
The one with the brass buttons.
I suddenly remembered something.
“Wait.”
Daniel stopped.
“My father never wears that coat anymore.”
“Why?”
“He says the inside pocket is uncomfortable.”
I zoomed into the photograph.
His right hand was resting against the coat.
Something metallic was visible beneath his fingers.
A watch.
My father's old military watch.
He had worn it for thirty years.
I had seen it every morning of my childhood.
I called the number printed on Dad's pharmacy notice.
A nurse answered.
“Mr. Bennett's cardiologist's office.”
“This is his daughter, Shayla.”
The nurse paused.
“Is he with you?”
“No. Why?”
“He missed his appointment yesterday.”
My heart sank.
“Did someone cancel it?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
The nurse checked the record.
“Your mother.”
I closed my eyes.
Daniel looked at me.
“What did she say?”
“She said your father was too weak to travel.”
I felt something inside me harden.
“Was that true?”
“No,” the nurse said quietly. “His doctor specifically requested that he come in.”
I thanked her and ended the call.
Daniel was watching me.
“This isn't just financial abuse.”
“No.”
“It may be medical neglect.”
“I know.”
He studied the photograph.
“Your father may have left you a clue.”
“The watch?”
“Maybe.”
We drove toward the last location where Mom's phone had been active.
A shopping district.
Not a hospital.
Not a pharmacy.
A private bank.
I stared at the building.
“Why would she bring Dad here?”
Daniel parked across the street.
“We don't go in.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to know what she is doing.”
I watched through binoculars.
Twenty minutes later, Mom emerged.
Dad wasn't with her.
She carried a leather portfolio.
A man in a navy suit followed.
He shook her hand.
Then handed her an envelope.
I photographed everything.
Daniel took a second photograph.
“Do you know him?”
I shook my head.
But something about his face felt familiar.
Then Daniel noticed the building's name.
Rutherford Private Capital.
One of the seven companies connected to my forged signature.
My pulse accelerated.
“That's one of them.”
Daniel nodded.
“Then your mother isn't just spending the money.”
“She is moving it.”
We waited until Mom left.
Then we entered the lobby.
I showed the receptionist my military identification.
She became cautious.
“I'm trying to locate my father.”
“I can't disclose client information.”
“I understand.”
Daniel stepped beside me.
“Then don't disclose anything.”
The receptionist looked at him.
“Just tell us whether the man who left with Mrs. Bennett is still inside.”
She hesitated.
Then looked toward the elevator.
“Mr. Rutherford is in his office.”
Daniel thanked her.
We didn't approach him.
Instead, I photographed the directory.
There were five businesses on the same floor.
Three matched companies from my investigation.
My mother had not created seven companies randomly.
She had built an entire network.
But why?
Back in the car, Daniel looked through the photographs.
“Your sister.”
“What about Chloe?”
“She wasn't at the bank.”
I nodded.
“She may not know everything.”
“Or she's the person handling the operational side.”
I didn't want to believe it.
Chloe had mocked me.
She had laughed when Mom kicked me.
But she had also looked frightened when she saw the folder.
Daniel started the engine.
“We need your father's watch.”
I remembered the photograph.
Dad's hand.
The watch.
The coat.
We went to my parents' house.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, the renovation looked different.
The expensive furniture suddenly felt sinister.
Dad's recliner was empty.
His medication organizer remained on the side table.
Three compartments were empty.
One contained half a tablet.
I swallowed hard.
“He was rationing them.”
Daniel nodded.
I went upstairs.
Dad's bedroom had been searched.
Drawers open.
Closet doors wide.
Papers scattered.
Then I noticed the coat rack.
Dad's brown military coat was gone.
Mom had taken it.
I looked at the photograph again.
The watch.
The pocket.
I zoomed closer.
The watch had a small scratch across the face.
Dad's watch always had a dent there.
But something else caught my attention.
A tiny silver chain was attached to it.
I remembered seeing that chain when I was a child.
It connected the watch to a small metal tag.
Daniel saw my expression.
“What?”
“That tag.”
“What's on it?”
“I don't know.”
We searched Dad's desk.
Nothing.
Then I found an old family photograph.
Dad and Mom on their wedding day.
Chloe was a toddler.
I was standing beside Dad.
He was wearing the same watch.
On the back, Dad had written:
For my girls. Never let anyone divide you.
I stared at the words.
Daniel was silent.
Then he pointed at the photograph.
“Look at Chloe.”
I did.
She wasn't looking at the camera.
She was looking at Mom.
And Mom was looking at Dad.
Not lovingly.
Suspiciously.
A memory surfaced.
Chloe had always been closer to Mom.
I had always been closer to Dad.
Maybe that was why Mom had spent years turning us against each other.
I searched the kitchen again.
Behind the espresso machine, I found a receipt.
A storage facility.
Unit 814.
Paid under my name.
Three years ago.
My heart pounded.
“Another company.”
Daniel looked at the receipt.
“No.”
“What?”
“Look at the date.”
I did.
It was the week before Dad's first major heart procedure.
I felt sick.
“Let's go.”
The storage facility was twenty minutes away.
Unit 814 opened with a keypad.
My birthday.
I stared at Daniel.
“Mom knows my birthday.”
Inside was a single cardboard box.
No documents.
No money.
Just an old military coat.
Dad's coat.
I opened it.
The watch was gone.
But the silver chain remained.
Attached to the chain was a tiny metal tag.
I turned it over.
Three numbers were engraved on the back.
38,000.
My hands began to shake.
Then the storage unit lights suddenly switched off.
Daniel reached for his flashlight.
A voice came from the darkness.
“You should have stopped after the hospital.”
It was Chloe.
She stepped into the doorway.
May you like
Her eyes were wet.
And she was holding my father's watch.
