Chapter 6 - THE LOCKED ROOM
The basement door had always been locked.
I had never questioned it.
Julian told me it contained old work equipment.
I believed him.
Now my father stood beside me with Detective Hayes.
The lock was forced open.
The basement smelled like dust and cold concrete.
There were storage boxes.
Old Christmas decorations.
Broken furniture.
Then we found the second door.
A keypad.
My father looked at me.
“Do you know the code?”
I shook my head.
Detective Hayes contacted a technician.
The door opened twenty minutes later.
Inside was an office.
Not storage.
An office.
Two monitors.
A printer.
Several hard drives.
A filing cabinet.
And photographs.
My photographs.
My father's photographs.
Rachel.
Ethan.
Our neighbors.
Even Detective Hayes.
She stared at her own picture.
“When was this taken?”
“Last month,” my father said.
Detective Hayes's face hardened.
The room suddenly felt much colder.
I opened the filing cabinet.
Inside were documents.
Bank statements.
Property records.
Copies of my father's company contracts.
My hands began shaking.
“What was he doing?”
Margaret arrived minutes later.
She examined the files.
Then she found a folder marked:
VANCE TRANSFER.
She opened it.
Her expression changed.
“What?”
She didn't answer immediately.
“Margaret?”
She looked at my father.
“Arthur, someone was preparing to move control of part of your company.”
My father's face went pale.
“That's impossible.”
“Not if they had access to your signature.”
He stared at her.
“I never signed anything.”
“I know.”
She handed him the papers.
Forged signatures.
My father's name.
His corporate seal.
Everything.
Julian hadn't simply been abusing me.
He had been building something.
A financial scheme.
And I had been the perfect distraction.
My father sat down.
I felt sick.
“He married me because of you?”
Nobody answered.
Then Margaret found another file.
This one had my name on it.
Inside were photographs of my bank account.
My secret savings.
My medical appointment schedule.
My messages.
Everything.
“He was tracking me.”
“Yes,” Detective Hayes said.
“Why?”
She looked at the evidence.
“Because you were unpredictable.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“You were the one thing he couldn't control.”
I stared at the papers.
Then I remembered the night he discovered my savings.
He hadn't been angry because of the money.
He had been afraid.
Because my independence meant I might leave.
And if I left, I might discover everything.
A hard drive was seized.
That evening, investigators began copying its contents.
At midnight, Detective Hayes called.
She had found something.
A folder created two days before the assault.
Its name was simple.
PLAN B.
I felt cold.
“What is Plan B?”
Detective Hayes paused.
“Your husband had scheduled a transfer of funds.”
“How much?”
“Almost $2.4 million.”
My father stared at her.
“From where?”
She looked at him.
“Your company.”
The room went silent.
Then she added:
“The transfer was scheduled for the morning after he assaulted Evelyn.”
My father slowly stood.
“So the assault wasn't spontaneous.”
“No.”
Detective Hayes looked at me.
“It appears he knew he might be exposed.”
My heart pounded.
“What was he planning to do?”
She opened the final file.
A flight itinerary.
One-way.
Chicago to Toronto.
Two tickets.
May you like
Julian.
And another woman.
