Chapter 5: The Brother Who Was Buried Alive
My father sat at the kitchen table for nearly ten minutes without speaking.
The police had arrived and were photographing the damaged office. Daniel was speaking with the responding officers, explaining that the missing notebook might contain evidence of financial fraud.
I stood by the refrigerator, holding the photograph of my mother and Richard.
My father finally looked up.
"Give me that.""
I handed it to him.
He stared at the image as though it might suddenly change.
"Richard was my older brother," he said.
"I know.""
"No, Ethan. You don't understand. He wasn't just my brother. He was my best friend.""
He rubbed his forehead.
"When we were younger, we did everything together. We started a construction business. We bought our first property together. We even shared an apartment for two years.""
"What happened?""
Marcus looked toward the police officers.
"An accident.""
He took a breath.
"Eleven years ago, Richard was driving home from a business meeting. His car went off a bridge during a storm. The vehicle was recovered two days later.""
"And the body?""
"They said it had been badly damaged. There was dental identification.""
Daniel, who had returned from the hallway, stopped.
"Who handled the identification?""
My father looked at him.
"Robert.""
Daniel's expression changed.
"Robert Hale?""
"Yes. He was our family attorney. He told me the authorities had confirmed everything.""
Daniel pulled out a chair.
"Did you ever see the actual identification report?""
Marcus shook his head.
"Robert handled the paperwork. I was devastated. I didn't want to see anything.""
I looked at the photograph again.
"Mom knew he was alive.""
My father looked up sharply.
"Your mother never said that.""
"She left a recording.""
I took out my phone and played the relevant section.
My mother's voice filled the kitchen.
"Marcus, if Richard is alive, then everything you know about his death is a lie.""
My father covered his mouth.
The recording continued.
"Robert believes he is protecting himself. But the man he's working for has a history of taking everything from people who trust him.""
Marcus stared at the phone.
"Why didn't she tell me?""
"Maybe she tried," I said.
He looked at me.
I continued.
"Maybe you didn't listen.""
The words landed harder than I intended.
My father lowered his eyes.
Daniel cleared his throat.
"We need to establish when Richard returned and how he became involved with the trust.""
My father stood abruptly.
"I want to find him.""
"That's exactly what he wants," Daniel replied.
"I don't care.""
"You should. If he's involved in the attempted transfers, approaching him without legal protection could destroy the evidence.""
Marcus slammed his palm against the table.
"That's my brother!""
"And this is Ethan's inheritance," Daniel said firmly.
"Claire built that trust to protect him. We cannot let another emotional decision put it at risk.""
My father looked at me.
His expression was filled with something between shame and desperation.
"I won't make another mistake.""
I wanted to believe him.
But trust wasn't something he could demand simply because he had finally discovered he was wrong.
Before I could answer, Daniel's phone rang.
He listened for a moment, then looked at me.
"Your mother's former housekeeper is here.""
I frowned.
"Mrs. Collins?""
Daniel nodded.
"She says she has something Claire asked her to keep.""
A few minutes later, Margaret Collins entered the kitchen.
She was seventy-two, with silver hair and a small handbag she carried everywhere. She had worked for my family for nearly fifteen years and had left shortly after my mother died.
When she saw me, her eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, Ethan.""
She hurried forward and hugged me.
"I heard what happened. Your mother would be heartbroken.""
I swallowed.
"Did you know about the trust?""
Margaret looked at Daniel.
"Yes.""
My father stood.
"Margaret, why didn't you tell me?""
She looked at him sadly.
"Because Claire specifically told me not to.""
Marcus stared.
"What?""
Margaret opened her handbag and removed a small brass key.
"She gave me this two days before she died. She said that if anyone tried to take Ethan's inheritance, I was to give it to Daniel.""
Daniel recognized the key.
"Where does it go?""
Margaret looked at me.
"Your mother's old storage room.""
My father frowned.
"The storage room in the basement?""
Margaret nodded.
"There's a second lock behind the shelves.""
We went downstairs.
The basement smelled of dust and old wood. Most of the boxes had been untouched since my mother's funeral.
Margaret walked to the far wall and moved three cardboard boxes.
Behind them was a small steel cabinet built into the wall.
She inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
Inside were several envelopes, a digital recorder, and a thick black binder.
I picked up the binder.
The cover had one word written across it.
*BENNETT.*
Daniel opened the first page.
It contained a list of financial transactions.
Several involved companies registered under unfamiliar names.
Others referenced properties I recognized.
My mother's lake house.
The apartment building downtown.
A commercial property my father had sold two years earlier.
Daniel turned the pages.
"These transfers were never authorized.""
My father leaned closer.
"That's impossible. I signed the sale documents for the apartment building.""
"Yes," Daniel said.
"But the money wasn't deposited into the family accounts.""
He showed him the account details.
Marcus stared.
"Where did it go?""
Daniel pointed to a company name.
"Northbridge Holdings.""
Margaret spoke quietly.
"Your mother found out about that company shortly before she died.""
I turned toward her.
"What did she say?""
Margaret clasped her hands.
"She told me Richard had been using it to move money. She also said Vanessa had visited him.""
My father shook his head.
"Vanessa?""
Margaret nodded.
"I saw them together in the garden one afternoon. Your mother asked me not to mention it.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"How long ago?""
"About seven years ago.""
Seven years.
Vanessa had entered our lives only six years earlier.
I frowned.
"That doesn't make sense.""
Margaret looked at me.
"Your father met Vanessa six years ago. But she had been connected to Richard long before that.""
My father gripped the cabinet.
"How?""
Margaret hesitated.
Then she reached into her handbag again and removed an old photograph.
It showed Vanessa as a younger woman, standing beside Richard.
On the back was a date.
Thirteen years earlier.
Marcus stared at it.
"Who is she to him?""
Margaret looked down.
"Your mother believed Vanessa was Richard's daughter.""
The room fell silent.
My father shook his head.
"No.""
Margaret continued.
"Claire discovered that Richard had a daughter from a relationship before he married. She also discovered that Robert had been helping him hide his identity.""
I stared at the photograph.
Vanessa was not simply my father's second wife.
She was the daughter of the brother he believed had died.
My stepmother was my father's niece.
And she had entered our home knowing exactly who he was.
My father stepped backward.
"She knew?""
Margaret nodded.
"Your mother confronted her. Vanessa promised she would stay away from the family.""
"Then why did she marry me?"" Marcus whispered.
Nobody answered.
I picked up the digital recorder.
"What's this?""
Margaret looked at it.
"Your mother's final message.""
Daniel found a small laptop and connected the recorder.
A recording began.
My mother's voice was weak, but unmistakable.
"Margaret, if this recording is being played, then Vanessa has probably married Marcus. I failed to stop it.""
My father closed his eyes.
"Richard has been using her to get close to the family. He wants control of the trust, and he believes that marrying Marcus will give him access to everything.""
A pause.
Then my mother's voice became firmer.
"But there is something Marcus must understand. Vanessa isn't the only person Richard has been hiding from him.""
My father opened his eyes.
The recording continued.
"Marcus, the night Richard's car supposedly went off the bridge, you weren't the only person who saw him.""
A faint rustling sound followed.
Then my mother said:
"Your brother was with someone from your own household.""
The recording stopped.
Daniel checked the device.
"That's all.""
My father looked around the basement.
"Who?""
Margaret's face had gone pale.
"I don't know.""
But I noticed something.
She was staring at the black binder.
Her fingers were trembling.
"Margaret?"" I asked.
She looked at me.
"What?""
"You know something.""
She swallowed.
Then she reached for the binder and turned to the final page.
There was a photograph clipped to the back.
A photograph of my father standing beside a woman in a hospital corridor.
The woman was holding a newborn baby.
On the back, my mother's handwriting read:
The child Richard left behind. Marcus must never discover what happened to his first family.
My father stared at the photograph.
Then he looked at Margaret.
"Who is that baby?""
Margaret began to cry.
And before she could answer, the basement door opened.
A familiar voice called from upstairs.
"Marcus? We need to talk.""
May you like
Robert Hale had returned.
And this time, he wasn't alone.
