Chapter 6: The Man Who Died
For three seconds, nobody in the hospital room moved.
Then I laughed.
It wasn't because anything was funny.
It was the kind of laugh that escapes when reality becomes too impossible to hold inside your head.
“My grandfather is dead,” I said.
Detective Harris nodded.
“I know.””
“He died eleven years ago.””
“I know.””
“So how can his fingerprints be on that bottle?””
Harris placed the evidence bag carefully on the table.
“That is what we're trying to determine.””
Daniel stood beside my bed, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
“Maybe the fingerprint database is wrong.””
“We considered that.””
“Then?””
“The print is a match.””
“To whom?””
Harris looked at me.
“Thomas Bennett.””
My grandfather.
The man whose funeral I had attended.
The man whose coffin I had watched lowered into the ground.
The man my father had spent eleven years mourning.
Or pretending to.
I swallowed.
“My grandfather had surgery on his hands before he died.””
Harris frowned.
“What kind?””
“His right index finger had a scar. A deep one. He cut it repairing a tractor when I was little.””
Harris glanced at the report.
“The fingerprint on the bottle has the same ridge pattern and the same scar interruption.””
Daniel stared at him.
“So you're saying a dead man touched the bottle?””
“I’m saying the evidence says someone with his fingerprint touched it.””
The distinction made my stomach turn.
A knock sounded.
A uniformed officer entered.
“Detective.””
Harris turned.
“We found something at the Bennett house.””
“What?””
“A hidden room.””
Daniel's expression changed.
“Where?””
“Behind the study bookcase.””
My heart began pounding.
“What was inside?””
The officer looked at me.
“Documents. Medical records. Several storage boxes.””
Harris asked, “Anything connected to the trust?””
“Yes.””
“What?””
“The original trust agreement.””
I stared at him.
“That doesn't make sense. My father took it.””
“He took the copy.””
My mouth went dry.
Harris continued.
“The original was hidden behind a false panel.””
Daniel stepped closer.
“Who knew about it?””
“We don't know.””
I thought about my grandfather.
He had always loved hiding things.
Coins beneath floorboards.
Letters inside old books.
Christmas presents in the attic.
But there had been one place I had never been allowed to enter.
His workshop.
After he died, Dad had locked it.
I had asked why.
He told me Grandpa had left “nothing but junk.””
Maybe that had been a lie too.
“Detective,” I whispered, “what exactly was in the room?””
The officer opened a folder.
“Bank statements. Medical records. Photographs. A ledger.””
“Of what?””
“Payments.””
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
“Payments to whom?””
The officer looked uncomfortable.
“That's still being investigated.””
Harris took the folder.
Then he pulled out a photograph.
He placed it in front of me.
It showed my grandfather standing beside a young man.
I knew the young man.
My father's younger brother.
Uncle Michael.
I hadn't seen him in years.
“Why is he in this?””
Harris turned the photograph over.
There was handwriting on the back.
*If anything happens to me, Michael knows where the second file is.*
My breath caught.
“Second file?””
Harris nodded.
“That's what we found.””
Daniel looked at me.
“What happened to your uncle?””
I stared at the photograph.
“He disappeared.””
“When?””
“About six months before Grandpa died.””
Harris's expression hardened.
“Your family said he moved overseas?””
“Yes.””
“Did you ever hear from him?””
“No.””
“Did your father?””
“I don't know.””
Harris pulled out another document.
“According to financial records, your father sent money to an account in Canada for nine months after Michael supposedly left.””
Daniel looked at me.
“How much?””
“Thirty thousand dollars a month.””
My mouth fell open.
“That’s impossible.””
Harris shook his head.
“It happened.””
“Why?””
“We don't know.””
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
“Yes?””
His face changed.
“What hospital?””
A pause.
“Keep him there. We're coming.””
He ended the call.
I pushed myself upright.
“What happened?””
“They found your uncle.””
I stared at him.
“Michael?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
Harris looked at Daniel.
Then back at me.
“In a private clinic two counties away.””
My heart began racing.
“Is he alive?””
“Yes.””
“Why was he there?””
Harris hesitated.
“He was admitted under another name.””
“Why?””
“He claims your father put him there.””
Daniel's jaw tightened.
“And he says he has proof.””
I looked at the photograph again.
My grandfather.
Michael.
The second file.
The trust.
My parents.
Emily.
Thirty-six hours.
None of it felt like separate pieces anymore.
It felt like one machine.
And my baby was the final piece.
I touched my stomach.
“Detective.””
“Yes?””
“If my grandfather knew this would happen…”
Harris waited.
“What was he protecting us from?””
Before he could answer, the hospital lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the entire maternity floor went dark.
The monitors continued on emergency power.
A nurse shouted.
“Backup generator!””
Daniel immediately moved in front of me.
“Stay here.””
Footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Fast.
Someone ran past the door.
Then stopped.
A shadow appeared beneath it.
Daniel looked at Harris.
Harris drew his weapon.
The handle turned.
Slowly.
And a man's voice came from the other side.
“Sarah?””
I knew that voice.
It was my father.
May you like
And he said four words that made my blood run cold.
“Your husband betrayed you.””
