Chapter 4: What My Mother Left Behind
My mother had died on a rainy Tuesday in March.
At least, that was the story I had been given.
A car accident.
Wet roads.
A truck crossing the center line.
A tragic accident.
I had been seventeen.
My father had refused to let me see photographs from the scene.
He had told me I didn't need those memories.
For seven years, I believed him.
Now I was sitting in the back of a security vehicle, racing toward Bennett Holdings while my father's office was being searched.
Marcus sat beside me.
“Tell me the truth.””
He looked forward.
“About what?””
“My mother.””
He said nothing.
“Marcus.””
“I don't know anything about your mother's death.””
“You're lying.””
“I was not assigned to your family then.””
“Who was?””
He hesitated.
“Your father's security chief.””
“Name?””
“Thomas Reed.””
I knew the name.
He had disappeared from our lives after my mother's funeral.
“Where is he?””
“Retired.””
“Find him.””
“We will.””
“No.””
I turned toward Marcus.
“I want him found tonight.””
He nodded.
When we arrived at Bennett Holdings, police cars surrounded the entrance.
My father's office had been emptied.
Drawers were pulled open.
Files covered the floor.
The giant windows overlooking Chicago were shattered.
My father stood near the desk.
A cut ran across his forehead.
I ran toward him.
“Dad.””
He caught my shoulders.
“Are you hurt?””
“No.””
“Good.””
“What happened?””
“Someone came looking for something.””
“What?””
He looked at Marcus.
Then at me.
“Your mother's file.””
My heart stopped.
“You kept it?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
“I don't know.””
“Dad.””
“I hid it years ago.””
“Why?””
He looked away.
I felt anger rise in my chest.
“You told me her death was an accident.””
“It was.””
“Then why would someone want the file?””
“I don't know.””
“Why would someone threaten me with her?””
My father closed his eyes.
“I should have told you.””
“Told me what?””
He sat down.
For the first time in my life, my father looked old.
“There was another vehicle.””
I stared at him.
“What?””
“The night your mother died.””
He looked at me.
“A second car was found near the accident.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because we couldn't prove who was driving it.””
“Who was?””
“We suspected Thomas Reed.””
My heart pounded.
“Your security chief?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“He had been following your mother.””
“Why?””
My father didn't answer.
“Dad.””
He reached for a drawer.
Inside was a small envelope.
He handed it to me.
“This was found in your mother's belongings.””
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
My mother.
Standing outside a restaurant.
Beside her was a man.
I recognized him instantly.
Daniel Mercer.
My father's former CFO.
I stared at the picture.
“Daniel knew Mom?””
“Yes.””
“How?””
“They worked together before Bennett Holdings.””
My hands trembled.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I thought he was involved.””
“Involved in what?””
My father leaned back.
“Your mother discovered money was being moved through shell companies.””
I looked at the photograph again.
“She found the same thing we're finding now.””
“Yes.””
“And Daniel?””
“He disappeared from her life.””
“Until he became your CFO.””
My father nodded.
A horrible realization settled over me.
“Was my mother investigating Whitmore Advisory?””
“We don't know.””
“Did she know the Whitmores?””
“No.””
I remembered Ryan.
His father.
His company.
The missing money.
Daniel.
My mother.
The pieces were beginning to connect.
But they didn't form a picture yet.
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photo appeared.
Ryan.
He was sitting in a dark room.
His lip was split.
His hands were tied.
Under the photograph was a message.
*Your boyfriend knows where the file is.*
I showed my father.
His expression hardened.
“Who sent this?””
“I don't know.””
Another message appeared.
*Bring the file to 11:30 tonight. Old Union Station. Come alone.*
My father grabbed my wrist.
“No.””
“Dad—”
“You're not going.””
“They have Ryan.””
“This is exactly what they want.””
“What if he's hurt?””
“They're using him.””
“And what if he dies because I stayed here?””
My father looked at me.
“I won't let you go.””
I pulled my arm away.
“You don't get to decide anymore.””
“Maya.””
“You kept secrets about Mom.””
His face fell.
“You hid the investigation.””
“I was protecting you.””
“You protected me by lying to me.””
He looked away.
“I was seventeen.””
“I know.””
“And I had already lost your mother.””
My voice softened.
“So did I.””
Silence.
Then the elevator doors opened.
A police officer rushed in.
“Mr. Bennett.””
My father turned.
“What?””
“We found something in the parking garage.””
The officer held up a plastic evidence bag.
Inside was a key.
A small brass key with a number stamped into it.
*317.*
My father stared at it.
Then his face went white.
“What?”” I asked.
He didn't answer.
“Dad.””
He whispered:
“That was your mother's storage locker.””
I looked at the clock.
10:42 p.m.
Less than an hour before the meeting.
I took the key.
My father grabbed my hand.
“Maya, don't open that locker.””
I looked into his eyes.
“Why?””
“Because your mother wasn't alone the night she died.””
I froze.
“What are you saying?””
He swallowed.
“She was meeting someone.””
“Who?””
He looked toward the broken windows.
May you like
Then he said the words that changed everything.
“Ryan's mother.””
