The police secured the bank before we arrived.
Detective Harris met us outside.
He looked at Grant first.
Then Celeste.
Then me.
“You have a complicated group of witnesses.”
“Where is my father?”
“We still don't know.”
“Rebecca?”
“Same answer.”
Victor was being questioned at the station.
That should have made me feel safer.
It didn't.
I showed Detective Harris the photograph of Rebecca.
“Where was this taken?”
He studied it.
“The farmhouse.”
“Three weeks ago.”
“That matches what we've found.”
“What?”
“Your father was there.”
“Did you know?”
“We found his vehicle records.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“We didn't know who we could trust.”
The sentence made my stomach tighten.
“Can we see the footage from the night he disappeared?”
Detective Harris nodded.
Inside, the bank was quiet.
The security room contained monitors covering every entrance.
The detective pulled up the footage.
My father entered at 8:13 p.m.
Victor followed at 8:18.
My mother arrived at 8:41.
Then Grant appeared.
9:22.
Celeste arrived at 9:46.
I looked at her.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To warn your father.”
“About what?”
“Victor.”
The footage continued.
At 10:03, the four of them disappeared into a conference room.
Ten minutes later, my mother left.
At 10:19, Grant left.
At 10:37, Celeste left.
Victor remained.
My father remained.
Then, at 11:11, the lights in the conference room went out.
The footage skipped.
When it resumed, my father was gone.
Victor was gone too.
I stared.
“How did they leave?”
Detective Harris pointed to another camera.
“They didn't.”
“What?”
“They never exited through any monitored door.”
Dana frowned.
“There must be another exit.”
The detective nodded.
“We found one.”
He opened another feed.
A service tunnel beneath the bank.
The footage showed two figures walking underground.
One was my father.
The other was Victor.
They stopped at the end of the tunnel.
Victor handed my father something.
Then they separated.
My father walked toward the street.
Victor went the opposite direction.
I watched my father disappear from the camera.
Then I noticed something.
“Stop.”
The detective froze the image.
“Zoom in.”
Victor was carrying a small black case.
The same kind of case I had seen in Dad's office.
“The ledger.”
Dana nodded.
“Probably.”
I looked at Celeste.
“You said Victor had it.”
“He did.”
“When?”
“After that night.”
“So why did Dad give it to him?”
“He didn't.”
“Then what happened?”
Celeste looked toward the screen.
“Victor took it.”
“From whom?”
“Your father.”
“How?”
“He threatened him.”
“With what?”
Celeste looked at me.
“With Rebecca.”
My stomach dropped.
“Explain.”
“Victor found Rebecca first.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“And he used her?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew your father would do anything for her.”
I closed my eyes.
That explained the trust.
The hidden room.
The money.
The lies.
But one question remained.
“Why did Dad involve Grant?”
Celeste answered quietly.
“Because Grant was the only person Victor didn't suspect.”
I turned toward Grant.
He looked exhausted.
“You knew?”
“I knew your father wanted me to help.”
“Did you know why?”
“Not at first.”
“When?”
“After I met Rebecca.”
I stared.
“You met her?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
My voice dropped.
“Where?”
“At the farmhouse.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me she wanted to come home.”
“Then why didn't she?”
“She believed your mother would never accept her.”
Mom lowered her head.
Grant continued.
“She asked me to help her retrieve the trust.”
“What did you do?”
“I told your father.”
I looked at him.
“And then?”
“He told me to wait.”
“For what?”
“For you.”
I frowned.
“Why me?”
“He said you were the only person who could legally become trustee if Rebecca disappeared again.”
I felt a chill.
“I was part of the plan.”
“You were supposed to be protected.”
“That's not the same thing.”
“No.”
He looked down.
“I know.”
I wanted to hate him.
Part of me still did.
But another part was beginning to understand that our marriage had been built around secrets long before I discovered his affair.
That didn't excuse what he did.
It only made the betrayal larger.
Detective Harris interrupted.
“We found something.”
He led us into another room.
A bank employee had found a package inside a safe-deposit box.
The box belonged to my father.
Inside was a letter.
My name was written on it.
I opened it.
Rachel,
If you're reading this, then Victor has taken the ledger.
Don't trust the person who tells you I betrayed you.
I looked at Grant.
The letter continued.
There is only one person who knows where the original evidence is.
Rebecca.
My hands shook.
If she has not returned, find the old farmhouse.
If she has returned, ask her about the red door.
I looked up.
“What red door?”
Grant's expression changed.
“The farmhouse.”
“There was a red door?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Basement.”
I remembered the hidden room beneath my parents’ house.
The door there had been steel.
Not red.
The farmhouse basement had one.
I called Rebecca.
The number she had used was unknown.
It rang once.
Then went to voicemail.
I left a message.
“Rebecca, it's Rachel.”
I hesitated.
“I know you're alive.”
Silence.
“I know Dad hid things from both of us.”
I swallowed.
“If you have the truth, I want it.”
The call ended.
A message arrived immediately.
DON'T TRUST THE LETTER.
I looked at Dana.
Another message followed.
YOUR FATHER DIDN'T WRITE IT.
I stared at the paper.
The handwriting looked exactly like Dad's.
Then came:
THE PERSON WHO WROTE IT WANTED YOU TO GO TO THE FARMHOUSE.
I looked at Mom.
She was crying.
“Who could imitate Dad's handwriting?”
She whispered:
“Victor.”
My phone vibrated again.
REBECCA: HE HAS THE LEDGER.
I typed:
Who?
The answer:
MY FATHER.
I froze.
Rebecca was saying Victor had the ledger.
But she called him her father.
Victor was Rebecca's biological father.
Not mine.
The photograph of the young woman with the little girl suddenly made sense.
Victor had a daughter with my father’s former partner.
But why had Dad called Rebecca his daughter?
Because he had raised her.
I turned toward Mom.
“Was Rebecca Victor's daughter?”
Mom nodded.
“Yes.”
“And Dad raised her?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor abandoned her mother.”
The family history was becoming more tangled by the minute.
Then the bank alarm sounded.
Everyone turned.
A security officer ran into the room.
“Someone has entered the lower level.”
Detective Harris reached for his radio.
“Lock the exits.”
We followed him.
The service tunnel was empty.
Except for a black case sitting on the floor.
Detective Harris opened it.
Inside was the original ledger.
And a single photograph.
My father.
Rebecca.
Grant.
Taken three weeks ago.
On the back was a message.
THEY ALL LIED TO YOU.
Underneath it:
ASK WHO BENEFITS IF REBECCA DIES.
My heart stopped.
“She's in danger.”
Detective Harris nodded.
“We need to find her.”
The lights went out.
Someone shouted.
Then footsteps echoed through the tunnel.
I grabbed Dana's arm.
“Who's there?”
No answer.
A door slammed.
When the emergency lights came on, Grant was gone.
So was Celeste.
The ledger remained.
Detective Harris cursed.
I looked at the photograph.
Three people.
One missing.
One vanished.
And one standing beside me.
My husband.
I turned toward the tunnel.
“Where did Grant go?”
Nobody answered.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Grant.
I DIDN'T TAKE CELESTE.
I typed:
Then where are you?
His answer came.
WITH YOUR FATHER.
My heart stopped.
Before I could reply, another message arrived.
HE'S ALIVE.
Then:
AND HE'S BEEN TRYING TO FIND YOU.
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: My Father Was Alive, Grant Had Found Him, and the Original Ledger Revealed a Secret That Made the Affair Look Like Only a Small Part
The Night I Left With One Bag, Three Children, and No Idea That My Father’s Closed Door Was Only the Beginning
Part 7 of 7
