Chapter 5 - What Dean Knew About Evelyn)
Dean blocked the doorway.
Caleb moved slightly in front of Rachel.
Dean noticed.
"That's cute."
"Move," Caleb said.
Dean looked at the black lockbox.
"Give me that."
Rachel held it against her body.
"It belonged to my mother."
"It belongs in the wall."
"Why?"
"Because some things should stay buried."
Rachel almost laughed.
"You sound exactly like everyone else."
Dean's face hardened.
"Rachel, give me the box."
"No."
"You don't know what is in it."
"Apparently you do."
Dean glanced at Caleb.
"You have no idea what you're getting involved in."
Caleb said, "I know enough."
"No. You know recordings. Numbers. Loans. You know nothing about what happened before."
Rachel stepped forward.
"Then tell me."
Dean's jaw tightened.
"Not here."
"This is my house."
Dean raised the folder.
"Is it?"
Rachel felt anger rise again.
Caleb whispered, "Don't."
He was right.
Dean wanted a reaction.
Rachel forced herself to stay calm.
"Did you forge my signature?"
Dean smiled.
"You should talk to an attorney before making accusations."
"Did you?"
"I didn't forge anything."
"Who did?"
No answer.
"Richard Weller?"
Dean's expression changed slightly.
Rachel continued.
"My father?"
That hit him.
Dean looked at her.
Caleb looked between them.
"She knows," Caleb said.
Dean swore quietly.
Rachel stared at her husband.
"You knew Nathan Cole was alive."
Dean said nothing.
"How long?"
"Rachel."
"How long?"
Dean walked into the room and closed the door behind him.
Caleb immediately opened it again.
Dean rolled his eyes.
"Fine."
Rachel held the lockbox tighter.
"When did you meet my father?"
Dean studied her face.
"Before I met you."
The sentence was devastating because Rachel had expected anything except that.
"Before?"
"Yes."
"How long before?"
"Maybe eight months."
Rachel felt something inside her drop.
Their first meeting returned to her.
A grocery store.
Rain outside.
Dean helping her pick up a bag after it tore near the parking lot.
He had seemed charming.
Coincidental.
Ordinary.
"You meeting me wasn't an accident."
Dean looked away.
Rachel's throat tightened.
"Was it?"
"Not entirely."
Caleb whispered, "Jesus."
Rachel barely heard him.
"Why?"
"Your father wanted information."
"About what?"
"The house."
Rachel laughed once.
"The house."
"At first."
"What does that mean?"
Dean rubbed his face.
"I wasn't supposed to marry you."
Rachel stared.
"I was supposed to get close enough to understand what Evelyn had left behind."
"The lockbox."
"We didn't know about the box."
"Then what?"
"Documents. Files. Something."
"Why?"
"Because your mother had evidence."
"Evidence against Nathan."
"And other people."
"Weller."
Dean nodded slightly.
Rachel struggled to breathe evenly.
"Then why marry me?"
Dean gave a bitter smile.
"Because life got complicated."
"Do not call seven years of marriage complicated."
"I fell in love with you."
Rachel stared at him.
"No."
"Rachel."
"No. You do not get to say that after telling me you entered my life because my father sent you."
"It changed."
"When?"
Dean did not answer.
"When did it change? Before you lied about why you knew my favorite coffee? Before you proposed in my mother's garden? Before Emma was born?"
At Emma's name, Dean's expression softened.
Rachel hated him for that too.
"I love Emma."
"You threw food at her."
"I made a stupid joke."
"You planned that room."
Dean's eyes shifted.
Rachel saw it.
"So Caleb was right."
"It wasn't supposed to go that far."
"What was supposed to happen?"
"You were supposed to come home, see me drinking with the guys, get angry and yell."
"And the camera?"
Dean said nothing.
"You wanted a recording."
"I needed leverage."
"Against your wife."
"Against Weller."
Rachel blinked.
"What?"
Dean looked toward the hallway, then lowered his voice.
"Weller isn't letting me walk away."
Caleb laughed harshly.
"Now you're the victim?"
"Shut up."
Dean turned to Rachel.
"The loan is real."
"I didn't sign it."
"I know."
"Then who did?"
"Your father."
Rachel stared.
"Nathan forged my signature?"
"He had samples."
"From where?"
Dean's silence answered.
"You gave them to him."
"I gave him old paperwork years ago."
Rachel could barely process the depth of betrayal.
"Years."
"I told you this started before I met you."
"And continued after."
"Not the way you think."
"You let someone put two hundred and eighty thousand dollars against my house."
"I thought I could fix it."
"By humiliating our daughter?"
Dean flinched.
"I needed footage of you losing control."
"For what?"
"Weller threatened to make the loan public, force foreclosure and tell you everything about me."
"So your solution was to make me afraid of losing Emma."
Dean's face twisted.
"I was trying to buy time."
Rachel's voice dropped.
"You used our child as leverage."
"I wasn't going to take her."
"But you wanted me to believe you could."
Dean said nothing.
Rachel finally understood something.
The man standing before her was not a mastermind.
He was worse in a more ordinary way.
He was weak.
He had spent years making cruel choices because each new choice seemed easier than admitting the previous one.
He had been recruited by Nathan.
Then married Rachel.
Then lied.
Then borrowed.
Then helped forge records.
Then submitted to Weller.
Then used Emma.
Not because he had one grand plan.
Because he had never once chosen courage over convenience.
Rachel looked at the lockbox.
"What's inside?"
"I don't know."
"Why were you waiting?"
"Because Weller wants it."
"How did he know it existed?"
"Your father."
Rachel frowned.
"Nathan knew my mother hid it?"
"He believed she did."
"Then why didn't he find it years ago?"
"Because he didn't know where."
Rachel glanced at the exposed strip of blue wallpaper.
"But my aunt did."
Dean's face sharpened.
"Susan told you?"
Rachel immediately regretted revealing that.
Dean took one step forward.
Caleb blocked him.
"Don't."
Dean stared at him.
Then Rachel's phone rang.
Susan.
Rachel answered.
Susan was crying.
"Rachel, are you at the house?"
"Yes. What's wrong?"
"Emma is gone."
Rachel's entire body turned cold.
"What?"
"I was in the kitchen. She was watching television. I heard the front door."
"Where is she?"
"I don't know."
Rachel screamed, "What do you mean you don't know?"
"I ran outside. There was a car."
Dean went pale.
Rachel saw it.
She lowered the phone.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing."
"Dean."
"I swear."
Susan was still speaking through the phone.
Rachel forced herself to listen.
"I called the police. Rachel, I am so sorry."
"What kind of car?"
"Black SUV."
Rachel looked at Dean.
He whispered, "Weller."
Caleb cursed.
Rachel grabbed Dean's shirt.
"If anything happens to her."
Dean caught her wrists.
"Listen to me. Weller doesn't want Emma."
"He took her."
"He wants the box."
Rachel stared at the black metal case in her arms.
A phone buzzed.
Not Rachel's.
Dean's.
He pulled it from his pocket.
One message.
One photograph.
Emma sat in the back seat of a car, clutching her stuffed rabbit.
May you like
Below the photograph were six words.
Bring Evelyn's box. Come alone. Midnight.
