Chapter 9 - THE MAN WHO VANISHED
Michael Cole was supposed to be dead.
At least that was what Richard had believed.
“He disappeared in 2006,” Richard said. “His car was found near the Canadian border.”
“No body?” Ethan asked.
Richard shook his head.
“Never.”
Lauren paced the small room.
“So Dad drinks coffee served by Michael, comes home sick, dies, and Michael disappears twenty-four hours later?”
Samuel sat silently.
David watched everyone.
Evelyn cried into her hands.
I crouched beside her.
“You knew Michael worked at the diner?”
“My sister called me afterward.”
“After Thomas died?”
She nodded.
“She said Michael had covered the morning shift. Then the next day, he vanished.”
“Why didn’t you tell police?”
“I did.”
Richard looked shocked.
“You never told me that.”
“The detective said Thomas’s death was natural. Michael was an adult. There was no proof the two things were connected.”
Lauren stared at her.
“But you knew Thomas had been trying to contact Richard.”
“Yes.”
“And you still said nothing.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“I was a coward.”
Lauren laughed bitterly.
“That seems to be the family tradition.”
Ethan flinched.
She noticed.
“I didn’t mean you.”
“Maybe you did.”
The room went quiet.
Ethan removed his boutonniere and placed it on the table.
“This wedding shouldn’t happen today.”
Lauren stared at him.
I expected her to argue.
Instead she nodded.
“I know.”
The sadness in Ethan’s face hurt to see.
Then Richard’s phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
Unknown number.
He almost ignored it.
David stopped him.
“Answer.”
Richard put it on speaker.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice answered.
Older.
Breathing heavily.
“Richard?”
Every Cole in the room froze.
Richard gripped the phone.
“Who is this?”
The man laughed softly.
“You still sound exactly the same.”
Evelyn stood.
“Oh my God.”
Richard whispered:
“Michael?”
Lauren’s hand found mine.
The voice continued.
“I saw the livestream.”
“What livestream?”
“Someone at the wedding posted Ethan walking away from the altar. Then people started writing about Margaret.”
My stomach tightened.
Richard demanded:
“Where are you?”
“Far enough.”
“Did you serve Thomas Miller coffee the morning he died?”
Silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
Lauren stepped toward the phone.
“What did you put in it?”
Michael’s breathing changed.
“I didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
“They gave me a small bottle.”
Richard’s voice became cold.
“Who gave it to you?”
Michael began crying.
“I was twenty-four. I owed money. I thought it would only make him sick enough to miss his meeting.”
Lauren squeezed my hand.
“Who paid you?”
“I can’t say.”
“You can.”
“No.”
David suddenly spoke.
“Michael, I’m standing beside Margaret Miller.”
Silence.
Then Michael whispered:
“David?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
Finally Michael said:
“If Margaret is there, tell her I’m sorry.”
I moved closer.
“I’m here.”
His breath caught.
“Mrs. Miller…”
“Tell me who gave you the bottle.”
For several seconds, only static answered.
Then Michael said:
“It wasn’t David.”
“I know.”
“It wasn’t Evelyn.”
“Then who?”
May you like
His answer changed everything.
“It was Thomas.”
