Chapter 11 - THE MAN WHO CAME FOR OUR FATHER
Dominic Marquette had spent nine years keeping my father hidden.
Now that Dad had been found, Dominic wanted him silenced again.
Detective Mitchell immediately contacted the Michigan authorities.
Security arrangements were reviewed.
Dad was moved to a safer location appropriate for his medical needs.
Danny and I were advised not to share his whereabouts.
I agreed.
For the first time, I understood that the most dangerous part of finding Dad wasn't over.
It was beginning.
That evening, I sat beside Danny in our apartment.
He was unusually quiet.
His hands rested in his lap.
I touched his shoulder.
What's wrong?
He looked up.
Then signed slowly.
I keep thinking about Dad.
I nodded.
Me too.
What if they take him again?
My heart tightened.
I took his hands.
We're doing everything we can to keep him safe.
Danny swallowed.
Then signed something that broke me.
I spent nine years thinking he didn't love us.
Tears filled my eyes.
I know.
And now he's back.
I pulled him into my arms.
For a long time, we held each other.
Then Danny stepped back.
He wiped his eyes.
And signed something unexpected.
Lily, I remember something from the night Dad left.
My stomach tightened.
What?
He hesitated.
Someone came to our apartment.
I froze.
Who?
A man wearing a black coat.
My heart pounded.
Did you recognize him?
Danny shook his head.
But Dad called him Mr. Marquette.
I stopped breathing.
Dominic.
He had come to our apartment the night Dad disappeared.
Danny continued.
They argued.
About what?
Money.
My stomach tightened.
Then he signed the sentence that changed everything.
Dad told him he wouldn't use my name anymore.
I stared.
The fraudulent accounts.
The twelve million dollars.
Dad had discovered someone was using Danny's identity.
And he had confronted them.
I immediately called Detective Mitchell.
She arranged to document Danny's recollection.
But the new information wasn't the only breakthrough.
Investigators recovered archived security footage from our old apartment building.
Most recordings had been deleted years earlier.
But a former building manager had retained copies related to a vandalism investigation.
One camera captured the hallway outside our apartment.
The date matched the night Dad disappeared.
The video showed Dominic Marquette entering at 8:14 p.m.
He remained inside for twenty-seven minutes.
Then left.
My father followed him several minutes later.
But another person appeared before the recording ended.
A younger man.
Wearing a Bellamy's restaurant uniform.
I leaned closer.
"Who's that?"
Detective Mitchell paused the video.
The man's face became clear.
Brett Collins.
Nine years younger.
Standing outside our apartment.
Then he reached into his pocket.
And placed something beneath our door.
A small black envelope.
I stared.
For nine years, I'd believed Brett was merely a cruel manager.
Now I knew he'd been involved in our family's disappearance long before I ever worked at Bellamy's.
Then Detective Mitchell revealed what investigators had found in Brett's old financial records.
He'd received a large payment the morning after Dad vanished.
Authorized by Dominic Marquette.
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And the payment description read:
FINAL DELIVERY — MICHAEL BENNETT.
