Chapter 12 - The Stranger at the Door
The following morning, I woke to the sound of my phone vibrating against the nightstand.
Ryan had slept in the guest room.
We hadn't spoken since the confrontation in his mother's kitchen, and when I returned to our house, I locked the bedroom door behind me.
At thirty-four weeks pregnant, I was uncomfortable enough without the added burden of wondering whether my husband was planning his next lie.
The message came from an unknown number.
Hannah Mitchell? My name is Daniel Brooks. I was a business associate of your father's. I need to speak with you about Northstar.
I sat up.
I read it again.
Then I replied.
How did you get my number?
His response came almost immediately.
Your mother gave it to me years ago. She asked me to contact you if Northstar ever resurfaced. I learned yesterday that the company is active again.
My mother had died six years earlier.
I had never heard of Daniel Brooks.
I called him.
A man answered after the second ring.
"Hannah?"
"Who are you?"
"My name is Daniel. I worked with your father shortly before he died. I was a junior accountant at the time."
"Why didn't you contact me before?"
There was a long silence.
"Because I was afraid."
The honesty in his voice caught me off guard.
"Afraid of what?"
"Richard Cole had powerful connections. When your father discovered the missing money, he tried to confront him. Within weeks, your father's company collapsed. Documents disappeared. Witnesses changed their stories. And then your father died."
I gripped the phone.
"Are you saying someone caused his death?"
"No. I can't prove that, and I won't pretend otherwise. But I know your father was preparing to expose financial misconduct before everything fell apart."
"Why contact me now?"
"Because Northstar is moving money again. And the name attached to its latest registration is Ryan Mitchell."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The truth Ryan had been desperate to hide.
"What does he have to do with Richard Cole?"
"I don't know the full connection yet. But I found something in the public property records. A company associated with Northstar recently acquired a building using funds transferred from an account connected to your husband."
"Which building?"
"An apartment complex outside Milwaukee. The paperwork lists Kayla Thompson as an authorized contact."
My best friend.
My husband.
My father's ruined business.
The pieces were beginning to form a picture I couldn't bear to look at.
"Can you meet me?" I asked.
"Yes. But Hannah, bring someone you trust. And don't tell Ryan."
I looked toward the bedroom door.
"Too late for that," I whispered.
After ending the call, I contacted my attorney, whom I had spoken to briefly the previous evening. She advised me not to confront Ryan alone and arranged for Daniel to meet us at her office.
Before I left the house, I noticed Ryan's car pulling into the driveway.
I hurried to put the folder in my bag.
He entered through the front door carrying coffee and a paper bag from the bakery I used to love.
"I thought we could talk," he said.
I didn't answer.
He placed the coffee on the table.
"Hannah, I know yesterday got out of hand. I shouldn't have spoken to you that way."
"Which part?"
He frowned.
"What?"
"Which part shouldn't you have done? Taking our daughter's money? Sending thousands of dollars to Kayla? Or telling me to stay away from my dead father's business?"
His expression hardened.
"I never stole anything."
"Then you won't mind explaining the transfers."
"I will explain everything when I'm ready."
"I'm not waiting."
He looked at my bag.
"Where are you going?"
"Out."
"With those documents?"
I didn't answer.
He stepped between me and the front door.
"Hannah, listen to me. Whatever Daniel Brooks has told you, he's lying. He was fired for falsifying records. Your father trusted the wrong people, and now this man wants to drag us into an old scandal."
I stared at him.
"You know Daniel?"
Ryan's silence lasted only a second.
But it was enough.
"You told me you didn't know anything about my father's business."
"I know of him."
"That's not what you said."
He lowered his voice.
"Please. Think about the baby."
I looked at him for a long moment.
Then I moved around him and opened the door.
"I'm thinking about her every second."
I left before he could stop me.
And as I drove toward my lawyer's office, I realized the most frightening part of the entire situation.
Ryan hadn't simply lied about the money.
May you like
He had known exactly which names would frighten me into silence.
And he had been counting on my trust to keep the past buried.
