Chapter 7 - THE MAN SAMUEL TRUSTED
Security escorted Daniel into a private conference room.
I refused to meet him alone.
My mother stayed beside me.
Two security officers remained outside.
Daniel didn't resist.
He sat quietly.
He looked older than he had in Samuel's photograph.
Tired.
Not threatening.
But I had learned not to confuse calmness with innocence.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Daniel Reed.”
“Did you know my husband?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“We worked together.”
“Northbridge?”
He nodded.
“Samuel brought me into the investigation.”
My mother looked down.
I turned toward her.
“You knew him.”
She whispered,
“Only after Samuel asked me to help.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Your mother protected me because someone was trying to find me.”
“Why?”
“Because I had the original records.”
“Records of what?”
“The transfers.”
He placed the rosary on the table.
I stared.
“This belonged to my father.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
He opened the rosary's small metal centerpiece.
Inside was a tiny compartment.
A micro-SD card.
I stared.
Samuel had hidden evidence inside a family heirloom.
Daniel continued.
“Your husband knew he couldn't trust electronic storage.”
I looked at my mother.
“Did you know about this?”
“No.”
Daniel nodded.
“Samuel didn't tell you because he wanted you outside the investigation.”
I hated hearing that.
But I understood.
“Then why did he leave everything with me?”
“Because he knew he might not survive.”
The words hurt.
“Did someone kill him?”
Daniel looked down.
“I don't know.”
“Don't lie to me.”
“I won't.”
He took a breath.
“Samuel was followed the night he died.”
My heart tightened.
“By whom?”
“We don't know.”
“Then how can you say he was murdered?”
“I can't.”
That honesty surprised me.
He continued.
“But his death was convenient for someone.”
“Who?”
“The person who changed the insurance beneficiary.”
I stared.
“Who changed it?”
Daniel slid a document toward me.
A digital authorization.
My name had been removed.
A new beneficiary had been added.
A charitable foundation.
One I had never heard of.
I looked at Daniel.
“Why would anyone do that?”
“To move money without attracting attention.”
“Whose money?”
“Yours.”
I frowned.
“My life insurance?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Four million dollars.”
My stomach turned.
“Who had access?”
“Your husband's employer.”
I thought of Northbridge.
But Daniel shook his head.
“Not Northbridge.”
“Then who?”
He pointed to one line.
Insurance Brokerage Services — Hartwell Group.
I recognized the name.
My mother's financial adviser.
I looked at her.
“Mom?”
She looked shocked.
“I didn't know.”
Daniel nodded.
“Your mother isn't involved.”
I wanted to believe him.
“Then why did Samuel suspect her?”
“Because she was hiding me.”
“Why?”
“Because I was being followed.”
He looked at my mother.
“She saved my life.”
My mother began crying.
“I couldn't let them find you.”
I finally understood.
She hadn't betrayed Samuel.
She had been helping him.
But there was still one question.
“Who are they?”
Daniel hesitated.
Then said,
“The man behind the transfers isn't one person.”
“What?”
“It's a group.”
He explained.
Executives had created shell companies.
Money moved through legitimate businesses.
The insurance policy was one part of a larger operation.
Samuel had discovered enough to become dangerous.
“Why did he die?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Because he was going to expose them.”
I felt sick.
“And now?”
“Now they know you have the evidence.”
My mother reached for my hand.
“We should leave.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because they expect you to run.”
I looked at him.
“What should I do?”
“Make them think you still don't know.”
The plan was simple.
We would not reveal the recording.
We would not reveal the memory card.
We would not reveal Daniel's identity.
We would let the people watching us believe the evidence had disappeared.
For the first time since Samuel died, I felt something other than grief.
Purpose.
That night, I returned home.
The house was dark.
I put Theodore to bed.
I checked on Abigail.
She was sleeping peacefully.
Then I entered my bedroom.
Something was wrong.
My closet door was open.
I knew I had closed it.
I walked closer.
Nothing appeared missing.
Then I noticed the old coat.
Samuel's coat.
The one from the safe-deposit box.
I had left it on the chair.
Now it was gone.
I froze.
Someone had been inside my house.
And when I turned toward the bedroom door, I saw a small white envelope lying on the floor.
My name was written across it.
Inside was a single photograph.
Abigail.
Taken that afternoon.
At school.
May you like
On the back were six words:
Stop looking, or next time she's alone.
