Chapter 6: The Recording That Changed Everything
I didn't listen to the recording that night.
I wanted to.
Every part of me wanted to hear Marcus's voice again, even if it meant uncovering something terrible.
But the recorder was evidence, and the authorities needed to handle it properly. Our attorney had already arranged for the relevant materials to be preserved and reviewed through the appropriate channels.
So I went back to Renee's house and sat beside Ava while she colored at the kitchen table.
She was drawing a house with a yellow door.
"That's pretty," I said.
She held up the picture.
"This is the house where Daddy hid the treasure.""
I sat beside her.
"Do you remember what he told you about it?""
Ava nodded.
"He said some treasures aren't gold. Sometimes they're things that help people tell the truth.""
I swallowed hard.
"That sounds like your daddy.""
"He said I could open it when I was older.""
She looked at me.
"Am I old enough now?""
I brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
"You're old enough to tell the truth about what happened to you. That's all anyone should ever ask of you.""
She thought about that for a moment.
Then she returned to her drawing.
I watched her color the yellow door, wondering how Marcus could have known that a day might come when his daughter would need the truth more than anything else.
The following morning, our attorney called.
"The authorities have secured the materials from the property," she explained.
"They'll determine what can be authenticated and whether the contents are relevant to any investigation.""
"Can we hear the recording?""
"Not until the appropriate people have reviewed it. We need to preserve the original and avoid compromising potential evidence.""
I understood.
Still, waiting felt unbearable.
At noon, an officer contacted me to discuss the messages I'd received and the attempted school pickup. He confirmed that the reports were being reviewed and asked me to forward any further communication from Derek or unknown numbers.
Then he asked a question that stopped me cold.
"Mrs. Bennett, did your husband ever have access to your email account?""
I thought about the years we'd shared a house.
"He knew my passwords for some accounts. We shared bills and household documents.""
"Do you remember giving him access to your old emails from before your marriage?""
I hesitated.
"He used my laptop occasionally.""
The officer explained that investigators were looking into how the sender might have obtained information about Marcus's records. He didn't speculate about who was responsible.
After the call, I changed my passwords, secured my accounts, and followed our attorney's advice about preserving the messages without responding.
Then I checked on Ava.
She was sitting on Renee's back porch, drawing another picture.
This time, it showed a woman standing between a little girl and a tall man.
I crouched beside her.
"Who are they?""
"That's you and me.""
"And who's that?""
Ava looked at the tall figure.
"Derek.""
I felt a familiar ache in my chest.
"Do you want to talk about him?""
She shook her head.
"Not right now.""
"Okay.""
She put down her crayons.
"Mommy?""
"Yes, baby?""
"If Daddy knew Derek was bad, why didn't he tell us?""
I sat beside her on the porch steps.
"I don't know whether your daddy knew everything that would happen. We may never know exactly what he understood. But I do know he loved you, and he tried to leave information that might help us.""
Ava leaned against my arm.
"Do you think he knew I'd be scared?""
I kissed the top of her head.
"I think he wanted you to be safe.""
She was quiet for a long time.
Then she asked, "Can I sleep in your room tonight?""
"Of course.""
That evening, I lay beside her while she curled beneath my arm.
She fell asleep quickly.
I didn't.
My mind kept returning to the messages.
The last voice you'll hear is mine.
Derek had known about the recorder.
He had known about the folder.
And he had known that I would eventually connect him to Marcus.
I couldn't tell whether he was bluffing, frightened, or trying to manipulate me into abandoning the investigation.
But I could no longer dismiss the possibility that he had hidden something important about his relationship with my first husband.
At eight the next morning, our attorney called with an update.
"The recording has been reviewed by the appropriate personnel," she said.
"The investigators have asked whether you'd be willing to listen to a copy with them present.""
My heart began pounding.
"Yes.""
We met later that morning in a private room at the police station. An investigator explained that the audio had been preserved and that they were examining its context and authenticity.
Then he placed a laptop on the table.
"We can't promise the recording answers every question," he said.
"Some portions may be incomplete. If you need a break, tell us.""
I nodded.
The recording began with static.
Then Marcus's voice filled the room.
"Aaliyah, if you've found this, I'm sorry.""
I covered my mouth.
His voice was tired, but unmistakably his.
"I should have told you more. I kept thinking I could fix this before it reached our family.""
A pause followed.
Then he continued.
"Someone at work has been using my authorization to move money through a company I never approved. I've been trying to establish who is responsible, and I've made copies of everything.""
Paper rustled near the microphone.
"I don't know whether this has anything to do with the threats I've received. I don't want you to panic, and I don't want you to assume the worst about anyone without proof.""
I glanced at the investigator.
He made a note.
Marcus continued.
"There's one person I need you to be careful around. His name is Derek.""
My entire body went rigid.
The investigator paused the recording.
"Do you need a moment?""
I shook my head.
"Please continue.""
The audio resumed.
"I met Derek through the subcontractor handling the project accounts. He offered to help me identify the source of the questionable payments. At first, I thought he was being helpful. Then I discovered that he had access to information he shouldn't have had.""
I stared at the laptop.
Marcus had met Derek before my first husband died.
He had been investigating him.
And Derek had later entered my life, knowing exactly who I was.
Marcus's voice continued.
"I don't have enough evidence to accuse him of everything I've suspected. I don't know whether he's working alone. But I believe he's been watching me, and I'm afraid he knows I've copied the records.""
The recording crackled.
Then Marcus said something that made my skin go cold.
"Yesterday, Derek asked me questions about Aaliyah. He wanted to know where she worked, where Ava went to school, and whether I kept financial documents at home.""
I gripped the edge of the table.
"Why would he ask that?"" I whispered.
The investigator didn't answer.
Marcus continued.
"I told him to stay away from my family. He laughed and said I was misunderstanding him.""
A long silence followed.
Then his voice softened.
"If anything happens to me, please don't let anyone use Ava to frighten you. She deserves a life that isn't built around someone else's secrets.""
My eyes filled with tears.
I could almost picture him sitting at his desk, speaking into the recorder after Ava had gone to bed.
He sounded frightened.
But he also sounded determined.
The recording ended with a faint click.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then the investigator closed the laptop.
"We'll continue examining the information alongside the other evidence. This recording raises important questions, but it doesn't establish what happened in the accident.""
I nodded slowly.
I understood the distinction.
Derek's name appeared in Marcus's investigation. That was significant. But suspicion wasn't proof, and I wasn't going to invent an answer just because I was terrified of the truth.
Still, one question remained.
Why had Derek married me?
As I stood to leave, the investigator received a message on his phone. He read it, then looked at me.
"Mrs. Bennett, there's been an update.""
My stomach tightened.
"What is it?""
"The company named in the folder has been traced to a registered business address. Investigators are examining the financial records, and we've received information suggesting Derek may have had access to the original account documents.""
I waited.
The investigator continued.
"There's another issue. Someone has attempted to access the records from a computer associated with your former household.""
My blood ran cold.
"Does that mean Derek?""
"Not necessarily. We need to establish who used the device and when.""
I thanked him and left the station with our attorney.
Outside, the Texas sun was brutally bright.
My phone rang before I reached the car.
Derek.
I let it go to voicemail.
Then a message appeared.
I know you've heard it.
Another followed.
Marcus was wrong about me.
I stared at the screen.
For the first time, Derek wasn't threatening to take Ava away.
He wasn't blaming her.
He wasn't telling me to come home.
He was defending himself against a dead man.
Then my phone rang again.
This time, the caller ID displayed a number I recognized from the documents in Marcus's folder.
It belonged to the construction company where Marcus had worked.
I answered cautiously.
A woman's voice spoke.
"Mrs. Bennett? My name is Elaine Foster. I was the company's compliance director when your husband died.""
I gripped the phone.
"How can I help you?""
"I've been informed that you've recovered some of Marcus's records.""
"Why are you calling me?""
She hesitated.
"Because I reviewed the original financial investigation years ago, and there was one document we couldn't find.""
My pulse quickened.
"What document?""
"The final authorization for the transfers. It carried a signature that appeared to belong to Derek.""
I closed my eyes.
Elaine continued.
"But the signature wasn't the strangest part.""
I could barely breathe.
"What was?""
Her answer came quietly.
"The authorization was entered into the system after Marcus was officially reported dead.""
I stood motionless beside the car.
May you like
Because if Elaine was right, then someone had used Marcus's credentials after his death.
And whoever had done it might have known something about his final hours that no one had ever told me.
