Chapter 4 - THE PHOTOGRAPH FROM FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
I couldn't stop staring at the photograph.
My father stood outside a diner.
He looked older than I remembered.
But alive.
The timestamp was clear.
Fourteen days before his official death.
Diana enlarged the image.
"Can you identify the location?"
I nodded.
"That's in Queens."
"Do you remember why?"
I shook my head.
"I was nineteen."
Diana searched the background.
There was a sign above the diner.
THE BLUE LANTERN.
"Still open?"
"Apparently."
We drove there that afternoon.
The diner was nearly empty.
An elderly man sat behind the counter.
When I showed him the photograph, he stared at it for a long time.
Then he looked at me.
"You have his eyes."
My heart stopped.
"You knew my father?"
He nodded.
"Michael came here every Thursday."
"Why?"
"He met someone."
"Who?"
The old man wiped his hands on a towel.
"Always the same woman."
"What woman?"
"Evelyn Cole."
I felt sick.
My father had been meeting my future mother-in-law weeks before he supposedly died.
"What did they talk about?"
"Money."
"Did they fight?"
"Sometimes."
"Did my father seem afraid?"
The man looked away.
"Yes."
"Of Evelyn?"
"No."
He pointed toward the back door.
"Of the man who followed her."
I froze.
"Who?"
"I never knew his name."
"Can you describe him?"
"Gray hair. Expensive coat. Scar on his chin."
Diana and I exchanged a glance.
"Did he come here often?"
"Three times."
"With Evelyn?"
"Once."
"When?"
The man thought.
"The last time was the night your father disappeared."
My pulse raced.
"What happened?"
"He left with Evelyn."
"And the other man?"
"He followed."
I swallowed.
"Did my father ever come back?"
The man shook his head.
"No."
Before we left, he handed me something.
A small envelope.
"Your father left this."
I stared at it.
"When?"
"Years ago."
"Why didn't you give it to me?"
"Because he told me not to unless someone came asking about him."
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a single key.
And a handwritten note.
If Sofia ever comes looking, give her the key.
Tell her the truth is beneath the house.
I stared at the sentence.
"What house?"
The old man looked at me.
"Your childhood home."
We drove there immediately.
The house had been sold years ago.
But Diana found the current owner.
An elderly couple.
They agreed to let us inspect the basement.
Behind an old furnace, we found a loose brick.
Underneath it was a metal box.
Inside were bank records.
Photographs.
Contracts.
And a cassette tape.
My father had recorded a message.
His voice was quiet.
If you're hearing this, Sofia, I failed to protect you.
I covered my mouth.
He continued.
Evelyn knows about the trust.
Charles Walsh knows.
Nathan may not.
But if he ever discovers the truth, he will become dangerous.
I looked at Diana.
The recording continued.
The Cole family didn't steal my company.
They stole yours.
I stopped breathing.
Your mother was never told the entire story.
And there is one person who knows everything.
I waited.
The tape clicked.
Then my father's voice returned.
Her name is Margaret Cole.
Diana frowned.
"Who is Margaret?"
I shook my head.
"I don't know."
Then the recording ended.
We searched the box again.
At the bottom was a photograph.
A young woman stood beside my father.
On the back was written:
Margaret.
Diana looked at me.
"She's a Cole."
I nodded.
"Which means she may know what happened."
We started searching public records.
It took two hours.
Then Diana found an obituary.
Margaret Cole.
Deceased.
Eight years ago.
I felt the hope disappear.
But then I noticed the surviving family members.
One name caught my attention.
Evelyn Cole.
And another.
Nathan Cole.
Margaret had been Evelyn's older sister.
I stared at the screen.
"My father trusted Evelyn's sister."
Diana nodded.
"Then we need to find out why."
My phone buzzed.
Another unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Margaret.
Alive.
And standing beside my father.
The message underneath said:
SHE DIDN'T DIE EIGHT YEARS AGO.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
SHE'S BEEN HIDING FROM EVELYN.
