Chapter 3 - THE TRUTH ABOUT MY FATHER
We were taken to a private room at the airport.
Federal agents questioned us separately.
I hated every second of it.
Not because I was afraid.
Because every answer revealed another lie.
When they finally allowed Cassandra into the room, she looked exhausted.
Luke and Violet were asleep on a pair of airport blankets.
I sat across from her.
“You should have told me.”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Three times.”
I stared at her.
She continued.
“The first time was six weeks after I found out I was pregnant.”
“Why didn't I hear from you?”
“Because your father intercepted the message.”
My jaw tightened.
“The second time?”
“I sent a letter.”
“I never received it.”
“The third time, I called your office.”
“I never knew.”
She looked down.
“Because someone answered before you did.”
“Who?”
“Your father's chief of security.”
That name meant something.
Victor Hale.
He had worked for my father for twenty years.
He had stayed on as head of security after my father's death.
I had trusted him completely.
The federal agent returned.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“The man on your flight was not acting alone.”
He placed several photographs on the table.
“His phone contained communications with four people.”
I studied the images.
One was the chairman of the company I was about to acquire.
Another was my father's former accountant.
Another was Victor Hale.
The fourth photograph was blurred.
“Who's that?”
“We don't know yet.”
I looked at Cassandra.
She suddenly stood.
“Show me.”
The agent handed her the photograph.
Her face changed.
“That’s him.”
“Who?”
She pointed.
“The man who came to my apartment the night before I disappeared.”
“What did he want?”
“He told me to sign something.”
“What?”
“A confidentiality agreement.”
I looked at the agent.
“Why?”
Cassandra answered.
“Because I had discovered the babies weren't the only thing your father wanted hidden.”
“What else?”
She took a deep breath.
“Your father's offshore accounts.”
My stomach tightened.
The agent opened a laptop.
“Mr. Hayes, we found something in your father's estate.”
“What?”
“A dormant account.”
“How much?”
“Approximately $112 million.”
I stared at him.
“Why wasn't that included in the estate?”
“Because it wasn't registered under his legal name.”
“Whose name?”
The agent turned the laptop toward me.
My name appeared on the screen.
I felt sick.
“That account was opened twenty-one years ago.”
I shook my head.
“I was twelve.”
“Correct.”
“Who opened it?”
The agent looked uncomfortable.
“Your father.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
Cassandra whispered:
“What was in it?”
The agent hesitated.
“Records.”
“Of what?”
“Payments.”
“To whom?”
He opened another file.
There were dozens of names.
Judges.
Executives.
Politicians.
Lawyers.
Bankers.
And one name appeared repeatedly.
Eleanor Hayes.
My aunt.
My father's sister.
The woman who had attended his funeral.
The woman who had hugged me and told me she would always protect the family.
I stared at the screen.
“No.”
Cassandra touched my hand.
“What?”
“My aunt.”
The agent nodded.
“She's been receiving payments from your father's account for seventeen years.”
“Why?”
“We don't know.”
Then the agent opened the oldest transaction.
The description contained only three words.
PROJECT LITTLE STAR.
Cassandra gasped.
I looked at her.
“What is Little Star?”
She was crying now.
“I thought that was just something your father called you.”
“Why would my father call a financial operation that?”
Cassandra shook her head.
“Because it wasn't an operation.”
“Then what was it?”
She looked at Luke and Violet.
“It was a contingency plan.”
The agent's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
He looked at me.
“Mr. Hayes…”
“What?”
“The suspect we arrested just died in custody.”
The room went silent.
“How?”
The agent swallowed.
“Someone poisoned him.”
And then my phone received a message from an unknown number.
STOP ASKING QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR FATHER.
May you like
A second message followed.
OR YOUR CHILDREN WILL PAY FOR HIS SECRETS.
