The footsteps stopped outside the office door.
Nobody moved.
Richard stood beside the desk, one hand raised, signaling us to stay quiet. Claire's fingers were wrapped around my wrist so tightly that I could feel her pulse.
Another step.
Then another.
The old staircase creaked beneath someone's weight.
I slipped the memory card into the inside pocket of my jacket.
The office door moved.
A thin line of hallway light appeared.
Then it disappeared again.
Someone was standing directly outside.
A man's voice came through the darkness.
“Richard?”
Richard's shoulders relaxed for half a second.
Then they tightened again.
“Daniel?”
There was no answer.
Instead, the handle turned.
Richard grabbed the nearest chair and shoved it against the door.
“Back window,” he whispered.
Claire looked toward the rear of the office.
There was only one window, and it opened onto the narrow alley behind the building.
I moved toward it.
Another impact struck the door.
The chair jumped.
“Go,” Richard said.
Claire climbed onto the sill first.
She lowered herself carefully onto the fire escape.
I followed.
Before I stepped through, I looked back.
Richard was still standing beside the door.
“You're coming.”
“I'll be right behind you.”
“That wasn't an answer.”
“Go.”
I didn't argue.
I dropped onto the metal platform.
Claire was already moving down the ladder.
I followed her.
The sound of splintering wood came from upstairs.
Richard appeared at the window.
He climbed through just as the office door burst open.
We ran.
The alley was wet from an earlier rain.
Our shoes slapped against the pavement as we crossed toward the next street.
Nobody followed immediately.
That frightened me more than a chase would have.
“They're letting us go,” Claire said.
“No,” Richard replied.
He looked behind us.
“They're trying to see where we go.”
We reached his car.
He unlocked it.
I climbed into the passenger seat.
Claire got in the back.
Richard started the engine.
Only after we were two blocks away did he speak.
“Did you keep the card?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Who was at the door?”
“I don't know.”
“You thought it was Daniel.”
“I suspected.”
“But you recognized the voice.”
Richard didn't answer.
I turned toward him.
“You did.”
He kept his eyes on the road.
“Not clearly.”
“Richard.”
He sighed.
“I've heard that voice before.”
“Where?”
“At your father's office.”
“When?”
“Several times.”
“Whose voice?”
He didn't answer.
Claire leaned forward.
“Tell us.”
Richard glanced at her in the mirror.
“I think it was your mother's attorney.”
I frowned.
“Evelyn's attorney?”
“Yes.”
“Richard Hale?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Richard hesitated.
“Martin Voss.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But Claire reacted.
Her face changed.
“I know him.”
I turned around.
“From where?”
“He came to the house after Dad died.”
“What did he do?”
“He handled some of Mom's private business.”
Richard nodded.
“He was never officially retained by the estate.”
“Then why was he there?”
“That's what we need to find out.”
I leaned back.
The memory card pressed against my chest through my jacket.
Everything my father had hidden seemed to be converging on the same people.
Evelyn.
Daniel.
Martin Voss.
And my biological mother, alive somewhere in Canada.
There was another question I couldn't ignore.
“If Mom was sending money to my biological mother, why did she tell everyone she was dead?”
Richard's hands tightened on the wheel.
“Because if the woman were known to be alive, your father's entire explanation for the adoption would collapse.”
“Why?”
“Because the adoption may not have been an adoption in the ordinary sense.”
Claire looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your father may have arranged your legal adoption as a protective measure.”
I stared ahead.
“So my mother gave me up?”
“Possibly.”
“Did she?”
“We don't know.”
I thought about the photograph.
My biological mother beside my father.
Alive six years after the date I'd been told she died.
Someone had spent years making sure I believed a lie.
We drove in silence.
Then Richard's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“Who is it?” I asked.
He didn't answer.
The phone rang again.
Finally he accepted the call.
“Hello?”
A woman's voice came through the speaker.
I couldn't make out every word.
But I recognized the voice.
Evelyn.
Richard's face became rigid.
“What do you want?”
She said something.
Richard looked at me.
Then at Claire.
“No.”
Another pause.
He turned the speaker off.
“What did she say?” I asked.
“She wants to meet.”
“Where?”
“At the lake house.”
“Why?”
“She says she has something that belongs to you.”
“What?”
Richard looked at me.
“She wouldn't say.”
Claire shook her head.
“Don't go.”
“I have to.”
“No.”
She looked frightened.
“Every time you go somewhere they tell you to go, something happens.”
“I know.”
“Then don't.”
I looked at Richard.
“Can we trust her?”
“No.”
“Can we trust you?”
He looked almost offended.
Then he nodded.
“You shouldn't.”
That answer surprised me.
“Why?”
“Because I've kept things from you.”
“Such as?”
“Your father's final instructions.”
“What instructions?”
Richard pulled the car to the side of the road.
He reached into the glove compartment.
He removed a sealed envelope.
“This.”
I stared at it.
“Why didn't you give me that before?”
“Because I was waiting for the right time.”
“You don't get to decide that anymore.”
He handed it to me.
The envelope was dated six years earlier.
I opened it.
My father's handwriting appeared again.
My daughter,
If Richard gives you this letter, then the investigation has reached the point where secrecy is no longer protecting you.
There was more.
Do not go to Canada until you understand what happened at the lake house.
I looked up.
Richard was watching me.
“Why?”
“Keep reading.”
I did.
My father wrote that my biological mother had witnessed the original theft.
But she had also witnessed something else.
A confrontation between Evelyn and Daniel.
A confrontation that had occurred the night before my father's death.
I looked at Claire.
“Were you here?”
She nodded slowly.
“I remember.”
“What happened?”
“I was asleep.”
“No. Think.”
She closed her eyes.
Then she whispered:
“I heard shouting.”
“Between Mom and Dad?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
“I don't know.”
“Try.”
She pressed her fingers to her temple.
“Dad said, ‘You don't understand what you've done.’”
I felt cold.
“What else?”
“Mom said something about the girl.”
“What girl?”
“I don't know.”
“Claire.”
She looked at me.
“Then there was a crash.”
“What happened after?”
“Mom came upstairs.”
“And Dad?”
“I never saw him again.”
The words hung in the car.
I looked at Richard.
“My father's death wasn't natural.”
“I didn't say that.”
“But you think it.”
Richard looked toward the road.
“The medical report was incomplete.”
“What does that mean?”
“The original report was replaced.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“By whom?”
“Martin Voss.”
Silence.
Claire whispered, “Mom's attorney.”
Richard nodded.
The same man whose voice we had heard outside the office.
The same man connected to Evelyn.
I looked down at my father's letter.
One final paragraph remained.
I read it.
If I am dead and Evelyn tells you I died naturally, ask why Martin Voss changed the medical report.
I looked at Richard.
“Then that's where we start.”
He nodded.
“We need the original report.”
“Where is it?”
“I don't know.”
I looked toward the lake road.
“Then ask Evelyn.”
We turned the car around.
When we reached the lake house, the gate was open.
Too open.
No guard.
No lights.
The front door stood unlocked.
Richard stopped the car.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“I mean it.”
I stepped out.
Claire followed.
The house was silent.
We entered.
The living room was empty.
Then I heard something from the kitchen.
A glass breaking.
We rushed toward it.
Evelyn was standing beside the counter.
Her face was bruised.
Her dress was torn at the shoulder.
And in her hand was a thick brown envelope.
She looked at me.
“Your father was murdered.”
I froze.
She extended the envelope.
“Martin Voss has the original medical report.”
Richard stepped forward.
“Where is he?”
Evelyn looked toward the windows.
“He knows you have the card.”
A vehicle engine started outside.
Evelyn's expression changed.
“They're coming back.”
I took the envelope.
“What happened to you?”
She looked at me.
“I finally refused to lie for them.”
The front door slammed.
Richard turned.
Then Evelyn whispered the words that changed everything.
“Your father didn't die because of the money.”
She looked directly at me.
“He died because he found out who your biological father really was.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: The Secret Behind My Birth Was Buried With My Father, Until One Medical Record Revealed a Family Connection Nobody Wanted Exposed
I Came Home From Fourteen Months Overseas to Discover My Family Had Turned My Lake House Into Their Private Kingdom
Part 9 of 12
