Chapter 8
Lily did not attend field day.
I kept her home.
The school understood immediately.
Police used the scheduled event as an opportunity.
Plainclothes officers watched the field.
Parking lots.
Nearby streets.
Caleb never appeared.
That worried Harper.
“He may know we found the calendar.”
“How?”
“Someone could be helping him.”
I thought about BrightPath.
Vanessa.
Old clients.
Fake consultants.
Anyone could be watching.
Mason came to stay with me after a court approved temporary placement.
His grandmother supported it.
Eric did too.
“I don’t want to rip him away from the only stable parent he has,” Eric said.
That earned some respect from me.
Mason entered carrying one backpack.
Lily ran toward him.
“Mason!”
He hugged her.
“Did you eat?”
She laughed.
“Yes!”
For the first time in days, he smiled.
That night, after the children slept, Harper arrived.
“We identified the body from Caleb’s fake death.”
“Who?”
“A BrightPath client.”
My stomach tightened.
“Client?”
“Marcus Dean. Forty-two. Missing at the time.”
“How did he die?”
“The original report blamed the crash.”
“But?”
“We’re reopening it as suspicious.”
Caleb may not only have faked his death.
He may have used another man’s death to do it.
Then Harper handed me Sarah’s old BrightPath file.
“We found this in the abandoned office.”
I could barely touch it.
Sarah’s photograph appeared on the first page.
Widowed parents.
Inherited farmland.
Pregnant.
Potential child beneficiary.
My blood went cold.
“They targeted her before Lily was born.”
“Yes.”
“Did Sarah know?”
“Eventually.”
A handwritten note appeared near the end.
Client suspicious.
Terminate contact.
I stared at Harper.
“What does terminate contact mean?”
“We don’t know.”
Sarah died in a car accident two years later.
My mouth went dry.
“No.”
“Daniel—”
“Don’t say it unless you know.”
“We don’t know.”
I closed the folder.
I had already lost one wife.
Now the possibility that her death was connected to these people felt unbearable.
Then Harper showed me an email Sarah had sent BrightPath six weeks before she died.
Stop contacting me. I know what you did with my parents’ estate. My attorney has copies.
“She knew they stole money.”
“Yes.”
“What attorney?”
“Martin Hayes.”
I recognized the name.
He had handled Lily’s trust.
Still did.
We called him.
Martin sounded shocked.
“Sarah told me she believed a financial consultant had manipulated her mother before she died.”
“Did she name Caleb?”
“No.”
“Did she give you evidence?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
A pause.
“In a safety-deposit box.”
Harper and I looked at each other.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Sarah instructed me not to unless someone attempted to access Lily’s trust.”
“They have.”
“I know that now.”
The box was opened under police supervision.
Inside were contracts.
Bank records.
Emails.
And a flash drive.
The final video was Sarah speaking directly to the camera.
“If Daniel is watching this, something has gone wrong.”
My chest tightened.
Sarah continued.
“A man named Caleb Morgan is stealing from vulnerable families.”
Harper leaned closer.
Then Sarah said:
“He approached me again yesterday.”
My hands shook.
“He knows Lily’s trust will become valuable.”
May you like
Then the final sentence:
“If anything happens to me, Daniel, please don’t believe it was an accident.”
