Chapter 5: The Man Who Knew Too Much
Margaret wanted us to report the threatening message immediately.
I agreed.
By morning, an officer had taken a statement and documented the photograph.
But the message had done something Camille's threats never managed to do.
It frightened me.
Not for myself.
For Jeffrey and Lucas.
I had spent ten years protecting those boys from the consequences of their mother's disappearance. Now someone connected to David's final days was watching our house.
At breakfast, Lucas noticed my hands trembling.
“Grandma, are you scared?””
I put down my coffee.
“A little.””
“Because of Mom?””
“Because some people are doing things they shouldn't.””
Lucas looked at Jeffrey.
“Maybe we should just give them the recording.””
Jeffrey shook his head.
“Dad hid it for a reason.””
Lucas pushed his plate away.
“I don't care about Dad's secrets. I want this to stop.””
Neither of us had an answer.
That afternoon, Margaret arranged a meeting with Daniel Price at her office.
He arrived carrying a thick folder and looking as though he hadn't slept.
“Thank you for coming,” Margaret said.
Daniel placed the folder on her desk.
“I should have come forward years ago.””
“Why didn't you?””
“David asked me not to. He wanted to protect the boys until he could put everything in order.””
Margaret opened the folder.
“What exactly were you and David investigating?””
Daniel sat down.
“David had started a small automotive parts distribution company. I helped him manage the books. It wasn't a huge business, but it was growing.””
I remembered my son's excitement when he first told me about it.
He had said he wanted to build something the boys could inherit.
Daniel continued.
“Then he noticed payments being made to companies that didn't appear to exist. At first, he thought it was a bookkeeping error. But the same amounts appeared repeatedly.””
“Who controlled the accounts?”” Margaret asked.
“Robert Hale.””
“And Camille?””
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“She had access to some of the paperwork. David discovered several transfers connected to an account under her name.””
My stomach tightened.
“Are you saying Camille stole from my son?””
“I'm saying David believed money was being diverted. I don't know whether Camille understood the full arrangement.””
Margaret examined the documents.
“Do you have original records?””
“Some. David gave me copies before he died.””
“Why didn't you provide them to the police?””
Daniel looked at me.
“Because I received a call two days after the accident.””
“From whom?””
“Robert.””
He took a breath.
“He told me David had been involved in illegal transactions and that I could become a suspect if I tried to interfere.””
I stared at him.
“Why would he say that?””
“Because he knew I had copies of the accounts.””
Margaret closed the folder.
“Mr. Price, you understand that withholding evidence may create legal complications.””
“I do. That's why I'm here now.””
She studied him for a moment.
“Do you have anything that establishes what happened to the missing money?””
Daniel reached into his jacket and removed a small envelope.
Inside was a bank transfer summary.
Margaret examined it.
Then she looked up.
“This account belongs to Richard?””
Daniel nodded.
“That's what David discovered.””
The room went silent.
Richard, Camille's new husband, had received money from the same network David had been investigating.
I felt the walls closing in.
“Does Camille know?””
Daniel shrugged.
“David believed she did.””
Margaret carefully placed the document back inside the envelope.
“We need to verify this independently. Until then, nobody should make accusations.””
But the next morning, Camille made one herself.
She filed an emergency motion claiming that I was emotionally manipulating the boys and exposing them to distressing material.
Her attorney attached a statement from a family counselor who had allegedly interviewed Jeffrey.
According to the document, Jeffrey had expressed a desire to live with his mother.
I stared at the page.
“That isn't true.””
Margaret frowned.
“Have you ever taken Jeffrey to this counselor?””
“No.””
“Has Camille?””
“Not that I know of.””
We called Jeffrey downstairs.
Margaret showed him the document.
“Do you recognize this name?””
Jeffrey shook his head.
“Never heard of her.””
“Have you spoken to anyone about wanting to live with your mother?””
“No.””
Margaret nodded.
“Then we will challenge this statement.””
But Jeffrey looked strangely unsettled.
“Grandma, I think I know how she got it.””
“How?””
He hesitated.
“Mom contacted my school.””
The next afternoon, we met with the school principal.
Principal Harris was a kind woman who had known the boys since elementary school.
She looked uncomfortable when Margaret asked about Camille.
“She came here two weeks ago,” Principal Harris admitted.
“What did she want?”” Margaret asked.
“She said she was trying to reconnect with her children. She requested copies of their records and asked whether Jeffrey had been seeing the school counselor.””
“Did you provide anything?””
“Only information she was legally entitled to request. But I did not discuss his private counseling sessions.””
Jeffrey leaned forward.
“Did she ask you to say I wanted to live with her?””
The principal looked startled.
“She asked whether you had ever expressed unhappiness at home.””
Jeffrey's jaw tightened.
“I told the counselor I missed Dad. That's all.””
Principal Harris nodded.
“That's what I documented.””
Margaret asked for a copy of the school's records.
Before we left, the principal called Jeffrey aside.
“There's something else I think you should know.””
He looked at her.
“What?””
“Your mother wasn't the only person who came asking about your father.””
My heart began racing.
“Who else?”” I asked.
Principal Harris lowered her voice.
“A man named Robert Hale.””
Jeffrey went pale.
“When?””
“Last Friday.””
Margaret immediately took out her notebook.
“What did he want?””
“He said he was a family friend and wanted to deliver some old photographs. But he asked specifically whether Jeffrey had mentioned finding anything in his father's belongings.””
Jeffrey looked at me.
“He knows about the toolbox.””
I felt sick.
The principal nodded.
“I didn't give him any information. But he left something.””
She opened a drawer and removed a sealed envelope.
There was no return address.
Only Jeffrey's name.
He stared at it.
“Should I open it?”” he asked.
Margaret examined the outside.
“Not until we've documented it.””
She photographed the envelope and carefully opened it.
Inside was a photograph of David standing beside a car.
On the back, someone had written:
Your father trusted the wrong person. Ask your grandmother what happened on the night he died.
I looked at the picture.
It was David's old blue sedan.
The same car that had been destroyed in the accident.
But something in the photograph caught my attention.
David wasn't standing alone.
A second person was sitting in the driver's seat.
And I recognized the face.
It was my late husband, George.
Jeffrey looked at me.
“Grandma, Grandpa died six months before Dad.””
I nodded slowly.
“Yes.””
“Then why was he in that photograph?””
I turned the photograph over again.
The date printed in the corner was October 12.
The day David died.
For ten years, I had believed my son was driving alone when the accident happened.
But the photograph suggested otherwise.
Margaret looked at the image for a long time.
Then she asked the question I had been avoiding.
“Eleanor, are you absolutely certain your husband died six months before David's accident?””
I looked at her.
“Of course I am. I buried him.””
She pointed toward the photograph.
“Then someone has deliberately placed your husband in a photograph taken on the day your son died.””
May you like
And suddenly, the case was no longer just about Camille.
It was about a secret my entire family might have been built around.
