Chapter 13 - The Deal Richard Never Expected
I had no intention of going alone.
But I intended to make Richard believe I would.
The location was an abandoned printing warehouse in New Jersey owned through one of his shell companies.
At 8:30 p.m., I entered carrying a leather briefcase.
No visible police.
No Rachel.
No Daniel.
No Evelyn.
That was exactly what Richard expected.
He stood beneath a row of old fluorescent lights.
Patricia sat twenty feet away.
Her hands were tied.
A man stood behind her.
Richard smiled.
“You finally learned.”
“What?”
“That money doesn’t make people brave.”
“No.”
I set the briefcase on a table.
“It makes them able to hire excellent lawyers.”
His smile faded.
“You brought the transfer?”
“I brought documents.”
“I want control of Margaret’s shares.”
“And Patricia?”
“She walks when I verify the signatures.”
Patricia looked at me.
For the first time since I had known her, there was no superiority in her face.
Only fear.
“Emily…”
Richard snapped, “Quiet.”
I looked at him.
“You killed Thomas Carter.”
Richard smiled.
“Thomas killed himself by believing principles mattered more than survival.”
Patricia began crying.
Daniel had needed eighteen years to hear that truth.
I wondered if he was listening now through the transmitter sewn into my jacket.
I hoped so.
“You caused his accident.”
“I caused nothing.”
“You tampered with his car.”
Richard shrugged.
“Old brakes fail.”
There.
Not a confession.
But close.
“And Margaret?”
His eyes changed.
“Margaret was always arrogant.”
“She survived the first injury.”
“She should have stayed quiet.”
My pulse hammered.
“What did Patricia do?”
Patricia cried harder.
Richard looked at her.
“She arrived after Daniel ran.”
“Why?”
“Because I called her.”
Patricia shouted, “You said Margaret attacked Daniel!”
Richard laughed.
“And you believed me because you wanted to.”
Patricia lowered her head.
“What happened?”
I asked.
Richard’s gaze returned to me.
“Patricia wanted answers about Thomas.”
“And Margaret?”
“Margaret told her the truth.”
I looked at Patricia.
She whispered, “She showed me the ledger.”
“And then?”
“I realized Richard had lied.”
Her voice shook.
“I told Margaret I was sorry.”
Richard’s expression hardened.
“She became inconvenient.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did you do?”
He smiled.
“You want a confession?”
“I want to know what my aunt saw before she died.”
He stepped closer.
“She saw the same thing you’re seeing.”
“What?”
“That family is a story people tell while money decides what they actually do.”
I shook my head.
“No. That’s what you tell yourself.”
His jaw tightened.
“Margaret chose you over her own daughter.”
“She protected evidence.”
“She humiliated me for decades.”
“So you killed her.”
Patricia screamed, “He pushed her!”
Everything stopped.
Richard turned.
Patricia was crying openly now.
“He pushed her against the staircase railing after she said she would testify about Thomas.”
Richard walked toward her.
I moved between them.
He stopped.
Patricia continued.
“She hit her head again. She stopped talking.”
My entire body went cold.
The second injury.
That was what killed her.
Not Daniel grabbing her.
Not the first impact with the clock.
Richard had struck her again.
“She was alive when you left?” I asked Patricia.
“Yes.”
“Did Richard call an ambulance?”
“No.”
Richard grabbed my arm.
“Enough.”
I looked at his hand.
“Take it off me.”
He tightened his grip.
Then the warehouse doors exploded open.
Police flooded the building.
Richard’s expression changed from fury to disbelief.
Detective Price shouted.
“Hands where we can see them!”
The man behind Patricia ran.
Officers tackled him.
Richard pulled me backward and reached inside his jacket.
A shot echoed.
I dropped.
For one terrible second, I thought I had been hit.
Then Richard collapsed beside me.
Daniel stood near a side entrance.
An officer immediately knocked the gun from his hand.
“Don’t shoot!” Daniel shouted. “I found it on the floor!”
Richard had been shot in the shoulder.
Alive.
Cursing.
Bleeding.
And furious.
I crawled toward Patricia.
She grabbed my hands.
“I’m sorry.”
I stared at her.
“For what?”
“Everything.”
Police cut her restraints.
Daniel approached.
His mother looked at him.
“My boy.”
He stopped several feet away.
“You knew the truth.”
Patricia cried.
“I knew too late.”
“No.”
Daniel shook his head.
“You knew enough.”
He turned away.
Outside, paramedics loaded Richard into an ambulance under armed guard.
Detective Price walked toward me.
“You got enough.”
“Enough for murder?”
“Conspiracy, financial crimes, kidnapping, evidence tampering. Patricia’s testimony and the forensic evidence may support homicide charges.”
I looked toward the ambulance.
“It needs to be enough.”
“It usually isn’t one dramatic piece of evidence.”
He looked at me.
“It’s twenty small truths that finally stop supporting the lie.”
At 11:40 p.m., we returned to Manhattan.
I thought the worst was over.
Then Mr. Meyers called.
“Emily, we have a new problem.”
I almost laughed.
“What now?”
“The Whitmore board has scheduled an emergency vote tomorrow morning.”
“On what?”
“Removing you from all management authority.”
“They can’t take my shares.”
“No.”
“Then what are they doing?”
“They are invoking the morality clause in Margaret’s shareholder agreement.”
“What morality clause?”
He sighed.
“They claim your family’s criminal scandal has damaged the company.”
“My family?”
“Daniel. Patricia. Richard.”
“That’s convenient.”
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“They have a candidate to replace you as controlling management representative.”
“Who?”
He hesitated.
“Evelyn Mercer.”
I turned toward the Manhattan skyline.
May you like
Richard might be finished.
But the battle for Margaret’s company was not.
