The basement door opened slowly.
Thomas Vale stepped inside.
He was a tall man in his late sixties, wearing a charcoal coat that looked too expensive for the dusty room. His silver hair was carefully combed, and his expression was composed.
Too composed.
He looked at Grandma first.
Then Gene.
Then Danny.
Finally, his eyes settled on the documents scattered across the table.
"I wondered how long it would take you to find this place."
Grandma didn't move.
"You knew."
Thomas smiled faintly.
"I suspected."
"You knew I would come."
"I knew Frank would eventually lead you here."
The words made Grandma's face tighten.
"Don't use my husband's name."
Thomas's smile disappeared.
"Fair enough."
Gene stepped between him and Grandma.
"What are you doing here?"
Thomas looked at him.
"Trying to stop an old mistake from becoming a new one."
"You mean evidence."
"I mean a story."
Gene shook his head.
"Frank's records aren't a story."
"No," Thomas said. "They're fragments."
He looked around the room.
"Fragments that can be interpreted a dozen different ways."
Grandma stepped forward.
"You sound exactly like the woman who came to my house after Frank died."
Thomas looked at Elaine.
"She was trying to protect you."
"She lied to me."
Elaine's expression remained calm.
"I did."
Grandma turned toward her.
"Then tell me the truth now."
Elaine looked at Thomas.
He gave a small shake of his head.
She ignored him.
"Frank discovered that my father had been moving aircraft components through private channels."
Thomas interrupted.
"Allegedly."
Elaine looked at him.
"Don't."
Her voice was quiet.
"Not tonight."
Thomas stared at her.
She continued.
"My father wasn't alone."
Gene said, "Richard Vale."
Elaine nodded.
"Yes."
Thomas's face hardened.
"My father is dead."
"That doesn't erase what he did."
"No."
Thomas looked at Grandma.
"But it doesn't make every document here genuine."
Grandma walked toward the table.
"You knew about the account."
Thomas said nothing.
"The account in Frank's name."
Still nothing.
"Money deposited after he died."
Thomas finally answered.
"I know about it."
"Who opened it?"
"I don't know."
Grandma stared at him.
"You're lying."
Thomas gave a tired smile.
"You always were direct."
"You knew Frank."
"I met him."
"More than once."
"Yes."
"Did you know he had the serial number?"
Thomas looked at the old boarding pass.
"Yes."
The room went silent.
I looked at him.
"How?"
Thomas didn't answer.
Grandma did.
"Because you were watching him."
Thomas looked at her.
"He was asking questions he shouldn't have been asking."
"He was asking about stolen parts."
"He was asking about people."
"What people?"
Thomas glanced at Elaine.
"My father."
Grandma stepped closer.
"And you."
Thomas's expression changed.
"I was young."
"You were old enough."
"I was twenty-nine."
"Old enough."
He nodded.
"Yes."
Gene folded his arms.
"What did you do?"
Thomas looked toward the floor.
"I delivered messages."
"To whom?"
"My father."
"From whom?"
"People who wanted their transactions protected."
Gene's jaw tightened.
"And the money?"
Thomas looked at the bank statement.
"That wasn't Frank's money."
"Then whose was it?"
Thomas didn't answer.
Elaine did.
"Mine."
Everyone turned toward her.
Grandma stared.
"Yours?"
Elaine nodded.
"My father had access to Frank's identity after the investigation."
"Why would you pay money into his account?"
"I didn't."
Thomas looked at her.
"You did."
"I did not."
"You signed the transfer."
Elaine's face went pale.
"What?"
Thomas reached into his coat and removed a folded document.
He placed it on the table.
Elaine picked it up.
Her eyes moved across the page.
Then she whispered, "That's my signature."
Grandma looked at her.
"Why would you sign it?"
"I wouldn't."
"You just said it was your signature."
"It is."
Elaine looked frightened now.
"That doesn't mean I authorized it."
Thomas smiled.
"Exactly."
Gene took the document.
He studied it.
"This is a transfer authorization."
"Yes."
"From Elaine Mercer to an account under Frank Walsh."
Elaine nodded.
"Without my knowledge."
Thomas said, "Convenient."
She turned on him.
"You forged it."
Thomas's expression hardened.
"Careful."
"No."
Elaine stepped forward.
"You forged my signature."
Thomas stared at her.
Then he laughed once.
"You think I needed to?"
Grandma interrupted.
"Enough."
Everyone went silent.
She pointed at the bank statement.
"The first payment was March 15."
Thomas looked at her.
"Yes."
"Frank died March 14."
"Yes."
"So someone used his identity after his death."
"Apparently."
Grandma's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
Thomas shrugged.
"To make it look as though he had been taking money."
I felt sick.
"To discredit him."
Thomas looked at me.
"Exactly."
Grandma turned toward Gene.
"Could this have been done by the airline?"
Gene nodded.
"It could."
"Could it have been done by someone outside the airline?"
"Yes."
Thomas smiled.
"Finally."
Grandma ignored him.
"Then we need the records that show who had access."
Gene looked through the folders.
"We have some."
"Not enough."
Elaine pointed toward a locked cabinet.
"The access logs."
Gene walked toward it.
"Where's the key?"
Thomas said, "Gone."
Grandma looked at him.
"You took it."
"No."
"Then who?"
Thomas hesitated.
Elaine whispered, "Robert."
Grandma looked at her.
"My father."
"Before he died."
"Where is he?"
"Buried."
"Then who has his keys?"
Elaine looked at Thomas.
Thomas didn't answer.
Danny walked toward the cabinet.
He examined the lock.
"It's not locked."
He pulled.
The door opened.
Inside were dozens of files.
At the back was a small metal box.
Danny lifted it out.
There was a label.
FRANK W.
Grandma's breath caught.
She reached for it.
Inside was a cassette tape.
An old audio recorder.
And a note.
She unfolded it.
My wife will know what this means.
Grandma sat down.
"What does it mean?"
Gene looked at the recorder.
"It means Frank expected someone to find this."
Danny inserted the cassette.
Static filled the room.
Then a man's voice emerged.
Frank.
Older than in the photographs.
Tired.
But unmistakable.
"If you're hearing this, I didn't make it home."
Grandma covered her mouth.
The recording continued.
"Ruth, I'm sorry."
She closed her eyes.
"I wanted to tell you everything myself."
His voice crackled.
"But if I disappear, don't believe the first explanation."
Gene looked at Thomas.
Thomas didn't move.
Frank continued.
"The records are being altered."
A pause.
"I know who is doing it."
Grandma opened her eyes.
Everyone leaned closer.
Then Frank said a name.
Not Richard.
Not Robert.
Not Thomas.
A different name.
The tape clicked.
Silence.
The recording had ended.
Grandma stared at the machine.
"Play it again."
Danny rewound it.
The same voice returned.
The same sentence.
But this time, I noticed something.
Behind Frank's voice was another sound.
A door.
Then footsteps.
Then a second voice, very faint.
I raised my hand.
"Stop."
Danny paused.
"What?"
"Back up."
He did.
The faint voice returned.
I listened.
I knew it.
I had heard it before.
On the airplane.
At the museum.
In the basement.
It belonged to Thomas.
Thomas went pale.
Grandma looked at him.
"You were there."
Thomas said nothing.
"You were with Frank."
He finally whispered:
"Yes."
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: Frank Had Recorded the Conversation Before His Death, and One Sentence Exposed the Person Who Had Been Quietly Controlling the Evidence
She Had Waited Twenty-Seven Years to Fly Again, So Why Was She Willingly Giving Away the Seat I Had Sacrificed to Buy?
Part 9 of 12
