Chapter 5 - THE FOLDER BEHIND MY MOTHER'S PORTRAIT
The building where my father had spent twenty-eight years building his company now belonged to Preston Hayes.
That fact alone made me want to turn around.
But I couldn't.
Not after hearing Dad speak.
Not after learning the blue folder might still be hidden behind my mother's portrait.
I drove to the old office shortly after sunset.
The property had been renamed Hayes Development Center.
The original Bennett & Sons sign was gone.
So were the photographs of completed projects that once lined the reception area.
A security guard stopped me at the entrance.
"Can I help you?"
"My name is Sloan Bennett. My father owned this building."
The guard frowned.
"Ma'am, this property is private."
"I understand. I need to retrieve family property."
"Do you have authorization?"
Before I could answer, a familiar voice came from behind me.
"She does."
I turned.
Roman Costa stood beside a black SUV.
My stomach tightened.
"What are you doing here?"
"Making sure you don't get arrested for trespassing."
I folded my arms.
"Did you follow me?"
"Your message said you were going to the old office."
I'd forgotten sending him a brief text earlier.
Dad says there's evidence behind Mom's portrait.
Roman continued.
"I contacted the property manager and obtained permission for you to retrieve personal items."
I stared at him.
"You could've told me."
"You could've waited for confirmation."
I hated that he had a point.
We entered with the guard accompanying us.
My father's office had been remodeled.
The dark wooden desk was gone.
So was the leather chair.
But the large portrait of my mother still hung against the far wall.
I stopped breathing.
Her kind brown eyes.
Her familiar smile.
The pale blue dress she'd worn in our last family photograph before cancer took her.
I hadn't seen that portrait since the foreclosure.
Roman noticed my expression.
"Do you want a minute?"
I nodded.
He stepped back.
I approached the painting and touched the frame.
"Hi, Mom," I whispered.
Then I looked at the wall.
There were small marks around the frame.
Someone had removed it before.
I turned toward Roman.
"Help me lift it."
He carefully removed the portrait.
Behind it was a narrow metal panel.
My pulse quickened.
I pressed the edge.
Nothing.
Then I remembered how Dad had hidden Christmas presents when I was little.
He always used magnetic locks.
I searched the frame.
A small magnet was taped behind the lower corner.
I smiled through tears.
"Of course, Dad."
The panel clicked open.
Inside sat a blue folder.
My hands shook as I pulled it out.
Roman didn't reach for it.
He simply watched.
I opened the folder.
Bank statements.
Corporate documents.
Emails.
And a handwritten letter from my father.
Sloan, if you're reading this, I failed to stop them.
My throat tightened.
Preston Hayes has been working with Vincent Caruso to take control of Bennett & Sons through false loan agreements.
I discovered signatures that were never authorized and transfers that cannot be explained.
I also learned that Caruso has been using Roman Costa's name on transactions Roman never approved.
I looked at Roman.
He met my eyes.
No triumph.
No demand that I apologize.
Just quiet understanding.
I kept reading.
I am preparing to report everything. If anything happens to me, take these documents to an independent attorney.
Then I noticed an envelope at the bottom of the folder.
It contained photographs.
One showed Preston meeting Vincent outside a bank.
Another showed them entering my father's office late at night.
The final photograph stopped my heart.
My father stood outside the building with Preston and Vincent.
But there was another person beside them.
A woman.
Tall.
Blonde.
Wearing a cream-colored coat.
I recognized her immediately.
My father's former accountant.
Margaret Ellis.
The woman who had personally assured me the foreclosure was legitimate.
Roman leaned closer.
"Do you know her?"
I swallowed.
"Yes."
He studied the photograph.
Then his expression changed.
"Sloan, that woman isn't an accountant."
I looked at him.
"What?"
Roman pointed toward her.
"Her real name is Margaret Caruso."
May you like
My stomach dropped.
"She's Vincent's wife."
