Chapter 4 - THE PERSON BEHIND THE DOOR
Loretta listened to the recording six times.
The voices were unmistakable.
She took the phone to Howard’s office, but stopped outside the closed door when she heard him speaking to someone.
“We cannot accuse them until we know who sent it,” Howard said.
Loretta opened the door.
Naomi was standing beside his desk.
Howard saw the phone in Loretta’s hand.
“You received one too.”
Loretta entered slowly.
“What did they send you?”
Howard turned his computer screen toward her.
An anonymous email contained a photograph of Austin leaving a private notary office with Brittany. The photograph had been taken four days earlier.
Beneath it was a single sentence.
Ask your son what he signed.
Loretta played the audio recording.
Naomi listened without interrupting.
When it ended, she asked, “Did you reply to the number?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Howard replayed Austin’s question.
“What happens if he finds out?”
His face remained controlled, but Loretta saw the pain beneath it.
“We need to bring Austin here,” she said.
Naomi shook her head.
“Not yet.”
“He may be making the worst mistake of his life.”
“And warning him now could allow whoever is directing this to destroy evidence.”
Loretta looked at Howard.
“You agree with her?”
“I do.”
“So we watch our son walk into a crime?”
“We determine whether he is walking or leading.”
Loretta stepped back as though Howard had struck the desk between them.
“That is our child.”
“He is thirty years old.”
“He is still our child.”
“And because he is our child, he knows exactly how to hurt us.”
The office became silent.
Howard immediately regretted the words, but he did not take them back.
Naomi opened her bag and removed a narrow silver device.
“This is a secure copy drive. I want every suspicious message, recording, and document saved here.”
Loretta accepted it.
“Who do you think sent the recording?”
“Someone close enough to hear them.”
“The wedding planner?”
“Elena has access, but no reason to hide her identity.”
“A vendor?”
“Possibly.”
Howard leaned against the desk.
“What about Franklin Vale?”
Brittany’s father had attended only two wedding meetings. Both times, he had spoken more about Howard’s company than about his daughter.
Franklin claimed to manage an international investment fund, but Naomi had discovered that his largest business had collapsed eighteen months earlier.
Most of the Vale family properties had been sold.
Two banks had active claims against Franklin.
Loretta stared at Howard.
“You investigated him?”
“I investigated the man whose daughter is marrying our son.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I wanted facts first.”
Naomi opened a report on the tablet.
“Franklin Vale has more than $11 million in personal and business debt.”
Loretta sat down.
“Does Austin know?”
“We don’t know.”
“Does Brittany?”
“Almost certainly.”
Howard opened another document.
“Franklin recently created a company called Vale Meridian Partners. It has no employees, no office, and no visible assets.”
“What does that have to do with the apartment?”
Naomi answered.
“The company registered a preliminary financing application three days ago. The collateral description matches Austin’s apartment.”
Loretta felt sick.
“They are trying to borrow against property they do not own.”
“Not yet,” Howard said.
The word yet remained in the room.
Naomi proposed a plan.
They would leave the apartment trust file active but replace the genuine emergency transfer form with a monitored copy. Any attempt to submit it would alert the legal team immediately.
Howard agreed.
Loretta did not.
“What if the document is used before you can stop it?”
“It will contain a hidden tracking code,” Naomi said. “It cannot legally transfer the property.”
“Legally and actually are not always the same thing.”
Howard looked at her.
“We need to know who is involved.”
Loretta stood.
“I already know enough. Our son is involved.”
She left the office before either of them could answer.
Later that evening, Loretta went upstairs and found a white envelope pushed beneath the bedroom door.
No one had entered the house according to security.
Her name was written across the front.
Inside was a photograph from Austin’s childhood. He was eight years old, sitting between Howard and Loretta at a baseball game.
May you like
On the back, someone had written:
You are watching the wrong son.
