Chapter 6 - The Man at the Window
Margaret first noticed him four months earlier.
At 2:13 in the morning, she awakened to a faint click.
Her bedroom door was closed.
The window was open.
A silhouette stood near the dresser.
"I thought I was dreaming," Margaret said.
"What did he do?"
"Nothing. He just stood there."
"You didn't scream?"
"I couldn't."
Emma sat beside her.
"What happened next?"
"He asked one question."
"What?"
Margaret's voice dropped.
"Where is Daniel's ledger?"
Emma frowned.
"What ledger?"
"I told him I didn't know."
"Did Dad have one?"
"Maybe."
Margaret looked toward the hallway.
"The man came closer. I couldn't see his face. He told me nobody had forgotten what Daniel did."
Emma's stomach tightened.
"What did Dad do?"
"I don't know."
"Mom."
"I swear."
Margaret wiped her eyes.
"Your father changed during the final year of his life."
Daniel Carter began locking doors.
He started checking the rearview mirror constantly when driving.
He stopped allowing Emma and Brandon to answer the home telephone.
Three weeks before his death, he burned boxes of papers in the backyard.
Margaret confronted him.
He said only that he had been "helping people who didn't deserve help."
Emma remembered none of this.
She had been twenty.
Busy with nursing school.
Brandon had been twenty-four and living with friends.
"Why did you never tell us?"
"Because Daniel made me promise."
"He's been dead fourteen years."
"And I spent fourteen years hoping his secrets died with him."
Emma looked down.
"They didn't."
At midnight, Brandon knocked on the bedroom door.
"I need to talk to you."
Emma stepped into the hall.
He held his phone.
"There's a message."
"From Elias?"
"I don't know."
He handed it over.
Unknown number.
One text.
YOU OPENED THE WRONG DRAWER.
Emma stared.
Another message arrived while she held the phone.
DANIEL CARTER STOLE FROM PEOPLE WHO DO NOT FORGET.
Then a photograph.
It showed Emma entering the villa earlier that afternoon.
Taken from across the road.
Brandon whispered, "Someone was watching you."
Emma immediately called Ortiz.
The detective ordered a patrol unit back to the property.
Within fifteen minutes, officers were checking the road and gardens.
Nothing.
At 1:20 a.m., Emma finally convinced Margaret to sleep.
She returned downstairs.
Brandon sat alone in the kitchen.
"You should go," Emma said.
He nodded.
"Tomorrow."
"No. Tonight."
He looked at her.
"Where?"
"I don't care."
His face tightened.
"Emma."
"You committed fraud."
"I didn't submit the application."
"Whose idea was it?"
He looked away.
"Peter Caldwell's."
"Why?"
"Because I owe money."
"How much?"
He remained silent.
Emma waited.
"How much, Brandon?"
"Two point seven million."
The number was so absurd she thought she misheard.
"To whom?"
He stared at the table.
"Different people."
"That means one person."
"No."
"Who?"
He looked at her.
Fear had replaced shame.
"Elias."
Emma stopped.
Brandon whispered, "I didn't know he knew Dad."
"Start talking."
Two years earlier, Elias Vale approached Brandon after a construction conference.
He claimed to be a private lender.
He offered capital without collateral.
Brandon accepted.
Then the interest changed.
Then deadlines shortened.
Then threats began.
Eventually Elias offered an alternative.
Refinance the villa.
Pay him back.
Brandon told him the property belonged to Emma.
Elias already knew.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Brandon laughed bitterly.
"Because every time I saw you, you were saving someone's life and I couldn't admit I'd destroyed mine."
"You decided forging my name was better?"
"I thought I'd repay it."
"With what?"
"The new development."
Emma stared at him.
Brandon lowered his head.
"I know."
"No, you don't."
She walked away.
Then he said, "There's something else."
Emma stopped without turning.
"Elias didn't want the money."
She faced him.
"What?"
"The first time I offered repayment, he laughed."
May you like
Brandon's eyes filled with fear.
"He said the debt wasn't mine."
