Chapter 5 - THE MAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
The next morning, I received an email.
No sender name.
No subject.
Only an attachment.
A photograph.
Victor Hale was standing beside a lake.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
The timestamp was from six months earlier.
I stared at the photograph until my eyes hurt.
Elena immediately contacted a private investigator.
His name was Marcus Reed.
He arrived that afternoon with a folder.
“I've been following Bellweather for three years,” Marcus said.
“Why?”
“Because Victor Hale never died.”
I leaned forward.
“What happened?”
Marcus placed a newspaper clipping on the table.
Victor had staged his death after discovering that Bellweather had been laundering money through shell companies.
He disappeared.
Changed his name.
Moved across the country.
And apparently continued monitoring the people who had tried to destroy him.
“Then why does everyone think he's dead?”
“Because someone paid to keep the story alive.”
“Who?”
Marcus looked at me.
“Your father.”
My hands curled into fists.
“Why?”
Marcus opened another file.
Inside was a photograph of Dad meeting a younger Victor.
“They were partners.”
Elena frowned.
“Then why would Daniel fake Victor's death?”
“Because Victor discovered the missing money.”
“How much?”
Marcus looked at the number.
“Thirty-eight million.”
Silence filled the room.
I thought about the forty-million-dollar voting block tied to Carter House.
Everything was converging.
Marcus continued.
“Victor hid the evidence before he disappeared.”
“Where?”
“We don't know.”
I looked at the photograph of Victor.
Then something clicked.
Grandma's video.
She had said Daniel used family properties to secure private loans.
But she never said where the original money came from.
I opened the flash drive again.
There was another hidden file.
A spreadsheet.
Rows of transfers.
Dates.
Accounts.
Beneficiaries.
And one repeated description:
HALE FAMILY TRUST.
I looked at Elena.
“Victor's money.”
She nodded.
“Your father wasn't stealing from the family.”
“He was stealing from Victor.”
“And using Carter House to hide it.”
My phone buzzed.
A text appeared.
You have until midnight.
Then another.
Stop searching.
Then a photograph.
Tyler standing outside a coffee shop.
Someone had been following him.
I immediately called him.
He answered.
“What's going on?”
“Where are you?”
“Downtown.”
“Go somewhere crowded.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
There was a pause.
Then Tyler whispered:
“Jesse, I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I knew Dad was lying.”
My chest tightened.
“How long?”
“Since I was seventeen.”
“What did you know?”
“That the building wasn't his.”
“Then why did you move in?”
“Because Dad told me I had to.”
“Why?”
Tyler's voice cracked.
“He said if I didn't, Mom would lose everything.”
I closed my eyes.
“Everything?”
“He said Bellweather would take the house.”
“What house?”
“Our parents' house.”
That made no sense.
Dad didn't own the house.
Mom did.
Or at least I thought she did.
Then Tyler said:
“Jesse, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“I found an old safe in Dad's office.”
“What was inside?”
“A birth certificate.”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
My heart stopped.
“What was different?”
“My father's name.”
“Who was listed?”
Tyler whispered:
“Victor Hale.”
I stared at Elena.
The room went silent.
Tyler was not my father's son.
May you like
He was Victor Hale's son.
And if that was true, Bellweather's entire succession plan suddenly made terrifying sense.
