Chapter 4 - The Letter
“Why did you meet Dad’s lawyer?” Daniel asked.
Sarah stared at the ceiling.
“Because he contacted me first.”
Daniel stepped closer. “About what?”
“Your father.”
Charles Vance had been dead for fourteen months. His death from a sudden heart attack had left Eleanor controlling the family trust until Daniel turned forty-five—or until certain provisions in the will were triggered.
Daniel was forty-two.
Sarah took a shaky breath.
“Martin said your father left a sealed letter. It could only be opened if I became pregnant.”
Daniel’s face tightened. “That makes no sense.”
“It didn’t to me either.”
“What did the letter say?”
Sarah looked toward Arthur.
“He warned me about Eleanor.”
Daniel laughed once, without humor. “My father married her.”
“He also wrote that he had made a terrible mistake.”
Sarah reached for the bedside drawer. Her purse had been brought from the ambulance. Inside was a folded copy of the letter.
Daniel read it standing beside her bed.
If Sarah and Daniel have a child, Eleanor must never control the child’s inheritance. I have reason to believe she has manipulated company records, trust distributions, and members of this family. Martin has the evidence necessary to challenge her authority if Sarah requests it.
Daniel read the paragraph twice.
Then he looked at Arthur.
“Did you know?”
Arthur’s silence answered first.
“You knew?” Daniel demanded.
“I knew your father was afraid near the end.”
“Afraid of his wife?”
“Afraid of what she would do if she lost control.”
Daniel paced away.
“You all knew things about my family except me.”
Arthur’s expression tightened. “Your father made people promise silence. He believed he was protecting you.”
“He was protecting himself.”
Sarah reached for Daniel’s hand.
“I was going to tell you after I spoke to Martin again.”
“Again?”
“He wanted to give me documents. He said not to use email.”
Daniel looked at the letter.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Arthur’s phone rang.
Detective Ortiz.
“We found your technician,” she said.
Arthur straightened. “Is he alive?”
“Yes. Barely.”
Miles had been found in a drainage ditch two miles from the estate, his wrists bound with plastic ties. He had a concussion and bruising around his throat.
But the laptop was still missing.
“Can he talk?” Arthur asked.
“Not much. He said two words before they sedated him.”
Arthur put the phone on speaker.
Ortiz continued.
“He said ‘blue sedan.’ Then he said ‘Mercer.’”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
Grant Mercer. Eleanor’s attorney.
At that exact moment, Sarah’s fetal monitor screamed.
The baby’s heart rate crashed.
Nurses flooded the room.
The doctor pulled Daniel back.
“We’re delivering now.”
Sarah reached for him as the bed started moving.
“Daniel!”
He ran beside her until the doors blocked him.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of Martin Hale, Charles Vance’s old probate lawyer, sitting bound to a chair.
May you like
Under the photo were six words.
STOP DIGGING OR HE DIES TOO.
