Chapter 6: The Night My Mother Died
My father looked as though he'd seen a ghost.
I placed the photograph on the table between us.
“Dad, what keys?””
He pressed his palms against his eyes.
For several seconds, the only sound in the room was the hum of the air conditioner.
Then he whispered, “After the accident, the police returned some of your mother's belongings. Her purse, her watch, and a ring she'd been wearing. But they never returned her spare car key.””
“Why does that matter?””
“Because the spare key had a small brass tag attached to it. Your mother used it to label the key to a storage locker.””
Daniel straightened.
“What storage locker?””
Dad shook his head.
“I don't know. I only saw the tag once. Eleanor kept the key in a small wooden box in her bedroom.””
I looked at the photograph again.
My mother stood beside the black sedan, wearing the blue coat I'd given her for Mother's Day. She was smiling at whoever had taken the picture, but her eyes seemed distracted.
The date printed in the corner was seven years old.
Three days before her death.
“Someone has been watching our family,” I said.
Daniel nodded.
“Possibly. We should preserve the photograph and avoid contacting anyone connected to the Whitmores until we understand what it means.””
Dad leaned forward.
“I have to tell you something else.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Please don't tell me there's another secret.””
He gave me a devastated look.
“I found your mother's spare key two weeks after the funeral. It was underneath the lining of her jewelry box. I kept it in my desk drawer for years.””
“Where is it now?””
“It's gone.””
“When did you last see it?””
“About a year ago. I was cleaning out the desk when Derek visited. He asked about your mother's belongings, and I told him I still had some things I hadn't been able to part with.””
I stared at him.
“You showed him the key?””
“No. But I left the drawer open while I went to answer the telephone.””
Daniel closed his notebook.
“Mr. Brooks, did you report the missing key?””
“No. I assumed I'd misplaced it.””
I looked at the photograph, then at the message on its back.
Ask Robert what he did with the keys to Eleanor's car.
Someone wanted us to believe my father had hidden something.
Or someone knew he had.
My phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
*You should stop investigating. Derek is not the person you need to fear.*
A second message appeared.
*Your mother trusted the wrong person. Don't make the same mistake.*
I showed Daniel.
He photographed the screen and advised me not to reply.
Then he called a colleague who handled fraud and property disputes, explaining the situation in measured, professional language.
While he spoke, I watched Dad staring at the photograph.
“Do you think I should have told you sooner?”” he asked.
I took a breath.
“Yes.””
He lowered his head.
“But I understand why you didn't.””
“Your mother spent the last months of her life frightened,” he said.
“She'd wake up in the middle of the night and check the locks. Sometimes I'd find her sitting in the kitchen with all the lights on, reading the same papers over and over.””
I had been sixteen when my mother died. I remembered her being tired, distracted, and unusually protective of me.
I remembered the night she kissed my forehead before leaving the house.
Be good for your father, sweetheart.
Those had been her last words to me.
For years, I'd thought she'd been going to a routine meeting.
Now I wondered whether she'd known she was in danger.
“Why didn't you tell the police about the foundation?”” I asked.
“I did. They interviewed me twice. But the records were incomplete, and the foundation's accountant insisted every transaction had been approved by your mother.””
“Who was the accountant?””
Dad hesitated.
“Margaret Ellis.””
Daniel looked up sharply.
“Margaret Ellis?””
“You know her?””
“I know the name. She was listed as a director of the foundation for several years. She later became a financial consultant for several local businesses, including one owned by the Whitmores.””
My heart began to pound.
“Is she still alive?””
“Yes,” Daniel said.
“And according to the company records, she currently works as a consultant for Whitmore Holdings.””
I stood.
“Then we need to talk to her.””
Daniel shook his head.
“Not without preparation. If she's connected to the missing funds, approaching her could alert others. We need the original records first.””
Vanessa, who had remained silent beside the door, suddenly spoke.
“I know where Derek keeps his private files.””
We all turned toward her.
“In his home office,” she continued.
“There's a locked cabinet behind the bookcase. He keeps copies of contracts, bank statements, and documents his father doesn't want anyone to see.””
“Have you been inside it?”” Daniel asked.
“Once. Derek left the key in the desk, and I was looking for my passport. I saw a folder labeled Brooks Foundation.””
My mouth went dry.
“What was in it?””
“Bank transfers. Property records. A photograph of your mother.””
I gripped the table.
“What photograph?””
“The same one you have. The one with the black sedan.””
The room fell silent.
“Why would Derek have that photograph?”” I asked.
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don't know. But there was a note attached to it. I only saw a few words before he came back into the room.””
“What words?””
She closed her eyes, trying to remember.
“Something about the storage locker. And a sentence that said, 'Once the original is recovered, the Brooks girl becomes unnecessary.''”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Dad stood abruptly, knocking his chair backward.
“No.””
He looked at Vanessa.
“Those were Richard's words. Eleanor told me Richard once said something very similar during an argument.””
Daniel immediately rose.
“Everyone needs to remain calm. We don't know who wrote the note or what it refers to.””
But my father was shaking.
“Richard Whitmore threatened my wife. He told her that if she didn't withdraw her accusations, he'd make sure our family lost everything.””
“Dad,” I whispered, “why didn't you tell me this before?””
“Because I thought he was bluffing.””
His voice cracked.
“And because, after Eleanor died, I was afraid that if I spoke up, you'd be next.””
The words settled over us like a heavy blanket.
My father had spent seven years believing silence was the only way to keep me safe.
And I'd spent those same years believing the worst thing that had happened to our family was losing my mother.
Daniel gathered the papers.
“We need to establish what the storage locker contains. If the key is connected to the foundation records, it may help prove who stole the money and whether the property documents were falsified.””
“Can we search for it?”” I asked.
“We can start by identifying storage facilities your mother used. But we shouldn't go anywhere alone, and we shouldn't confront Richard or Derek.””
I nodded.
Then my phone rang again.
This time, the caller ID displayed a name I hadn't seen in years.
*Margaret Ellis.*
I answered cautiously.
“Hello?””
A woman's strained voice came through.
“Camille Brooks? My name is Margaret Ellis. I understand that you've discovered your mother's letter.””
I glanced at Daniel.
“How do you know about the letter?””
“Because Richard has been looking for it for seven years.””
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Why?””
“Because Eleanor didn't just hide the foundation's financial records. She found proof that someone had altered the evidence surrounding her accident.””
Dad covered his mouth.
Margaret continued, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“I've been too afraid to speak until now. But after what happened at your wedding, I don't think Richard can protect himself much longer.””
“Then tell me what you know.””
“I can't explain everything over the phone. You need to meet me somewhere safe.””
“When?””
“Tonight. Eight o'clock. The old diner on Route 9.””
Daniel shook his head sharply and mouthed, Don't agree.
But Margaret was already speaking again.
“There's one thing you must understand, Camille. Your fiancé didn't choose you because of your house or your inheritance.””
I froze.
“Then why did he choose me?””
Margaret took a shaky breath.
“Because Richard believes your mother hid the original evidence somewhere only you could find it. Derek was supposed to marry you, gain access to your mother's belongings, and locate the records before the authorities did.””
I looked at my father.
His eyes filled with tears.
Margaret's final words were almost inaudible.
“And if Derek has realized you know the truth, you need to leave your home immediately.””
The line went dead.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Daniel's phone rang.
He listened for several seconds before looking at me with an expression that made my heart sink.
“Camille, the county property office just received another filing.””
“What kind of filing?””
He swallowed.
“An emergency request to transfer control of your mother's trust to a court-appointed administrator.””
“Who requested it?””
Daniel turned the screen toward me.
The petition carried the signature of the person who had originally established the trust.
My mother.
May you like
But beneath her signature was a date from six months after her death.
And the person requesting control of my inheritance was none other than *Derek Whitmore*.
