Chapter 13 - THE FLOORBOARD UNDER MY BED
Grandma had hidden Arthur Hayes’s autopsy report beneath my bedroom floor.
Apparently, that was normal now.
Police searched the apartment with us present.
Grandma pointed toward the corner beneath my bed.
Two officers lifted a warped floorboard.
Inside was a sealed plastic envelope.
Records.
Photographs.
A laboratory report.
Arthur Hayes’s death certificate said heart attack.
The private toxicology report told a different story.
A rare medication had been found in his blood at a dangerous concentration.
The prescription was registered to Margaret Hayes.
Vincent looked toward his mother.
She had joined us with investigators.
“I never gave him that.”
“I believe you,” Grandma said.
Margaret looked shocked.
“Why?”
“Because Arthur asked me to investigate.”
Grandma explained.
Arthur had suspected someone was altering his medication.
He secretly sent blood samples to an independent lab.
The results arrived after his death.
Grandma took them.
Then disappeared again.
“Why hide them here?” I asked.
“Because nobody knew where I lived after the last move.”
“They knew eventually.”
“Yes.”
Vincent looked at the prescription number.
Luke ran it.
The medication had been collected from a private pharmacy.
Signature:
Raymond Hayes.
There it was.
Not absolute proof alone.
But combined with financial records, witness statements, and other evidence, it became powerful.
Vincent stared at the page.
For years, Raymond had taught him how to survive.
How to negotiate.
How to intimidate.
How to rule.
All while knowing he had murdered Vincent’s father.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
My stomach tightened.
I answered cautiously.
Silence.
Then breathing.
The same anonymous caller.
“Who is this?”
A woman whispered:
“Claire.”
I looked at Vincent.
“What do you want?”
“I’m sorry.”
Then the line disconnected.
Luke traced the call.
Inside Hayes Tower.
Again.
Security located the caller.
Natalie Pierce.
Vincent’s assistant.
She surrendered.
During questioning, she admitted Raymond had forced her to monitor me.
He threatened her younger brother.
She was the one who made some of the silent calls.
She had also accessed Vincent’s office.
But she denied sabotaging the elevator.
“Who did?” the detective asked.
Natalie began crying.
“I don’t know his name.”
“What did he look like?”
“Maintenance uniform. Scar on his chin.”
Luke froze.
Vincent noticed.
“You know him.”
Luke nodded.
“My father does.”
Charles Mercer identified the description immediately.
A former Hayes enforcer.
Victor Kane.
The man who had supposedly died twenty years earlier.
Another dead man.
Another lie.
Then Charles gave us the worst part.
Victor Kane had not worked for Raymond.
He worked for Margaret.
Everyone turned toward Vincent’s mother.
She went pale.
“No.”
Charles stared at her.
“You hired him.”
Margaret whispered:
“Not to sabotage the elevator.”
“Then why?”
May you like
She closed her eyes.
“To watch Claire.”
