Chapter 4 - MY FATHER'S LAST JOB
I hadn't cried at my father's funeral.
Not because I didn't love him.
Because everyone else was falling apart, and somebody had to remember where the cemetery paperwork went.
My father, Walter Hodge, had taught me how to strip wire before I could drive.
He taught me never to trust a breaker label until I tested the circuit myself.
And his favorite sentence had been:
“Electricity doesn't lie, Penny. People do.”
Now I was standing inside the mansion where he'd apparently worked before he died.
Dominic ordered his business office to search old contractor records.
At 8:37 A.M., they found the invoice.
HODGE ELECTRICAL SERVICES.
Four years earlier.
Emergency lighting inspection.
Signed by Caleb Mercer.
My father's notes were missing.
The invoice had been paid in full.
Then an additional payment appeared six days later.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
I stared.
“My father's entire invoice was fourteen hundred.”
Dominic looked at the payment description.
CONSULTING SETTLEMENT.
“Did he ever tell you about this?”
“No.”
“Did he have financial problems?”
I glared at him.
“What are you asking?”
“Whether twenty-five thousand dollars could have bought his silence.”
“My father would have returned twenty-five thousand dollars if the cash smelled wrong.”
Dominic nodded once.
“I believe you.”
That surprised me.
His accountant traced the payment.
It hadn't gone to my father.
It went to a bank account opened in his company's name without his knowledge.
The money was withdrawn two days later.
Cash.
Dominic's expression hardened.
“Someone wanted it to look like your father accepted money.”
I felt sick.
Then Maria brought us an old work jacket.
“I kept this.”
It had been found behind a basement utility cabinet years earlier.
HODGE ELECTRICAL was stitched across the chest.
I recognized the burn mark near the sleeve.
My father had worn it for ten years.
My hands shook as I searched the pockets.
Empty.
Then my fingers touched something inside the lining.
A folded piece of paper.
The writing was faded.
But it was his.
PENNY -
IF THIS GETS BACK TO YOU, DON'T BELIEVE THE REPORT.
THE LIGHT ISN'T FAILING.
SOMEONE IS MAKING IT FLASH.
I stopped breathing.
There was more.
I CAN'T GET TO MORETTI.
SECURITY KEEPS BLOCKING ME.
I THINK THE DOCTOR KNOWS.
And at the bottom, my father had written one final line.
CHECK THE SERVICE PANEL BEHIND THE WINE CELLAR.
DON'T TRUST C.M.
Dominic read it twice.
Then he looked at me.
“Your father knew.”
I folded the note carefully.
“No.”
My voice sounded unfamiliar.
May you like
“My father tried to warn you.”
And someone had made sure he never got the chance.
