Chapter 3 - what his father hid beneath the floor)
By sunrise, Aaron had made three decisions.
First, Maya and Chloe would not return to the house until Florence and Lucas were gone.
Second, he would give police a duplicate of the memory card, not the original.
Third, he was going to the lake.
Maya did not like the third decision.
"Your mother knows about the boathouse."
"Maybe."
"If there's something there, she may already have taken it."
"Then I need to know."
"Aaron."
He looked at her.
She reached across the hospital bed and took his hand.
"You're angry."
"Of course I'm angry."
"That's why I'm worried."
Aaron lowered his eyes.
Maya knew him well.
She knew his temper had always frightened him because of the man he had grown up around.
Not his father.
His mother.
Florence never hit people.
She didn't need to.
She could turn a room against someone with a sentence.
She could create guilt where none existed.
She had spent Aaron's childhood convincing him that loyalty meant obedience.
His father, Thomas, had been quiet by comparison.
Too quiet.
Aaron had often mistaken that silence for weakness.
Now he wondered if Thomas had been surviving Florence too.
"I won't confront them," Aaron promised. "I'll only look."
Maya studied him.
"Take someone."
Aaron thought of the police.
He had already told Detective Lena Ortiz about the video.
She wanted to see the boathouse as well.
By nine in the morning, Aaron and Ortiz were driving toward Lake Mercer.
The family property sat ninety minutes outside the city.
Aaron had spent childhood summers there.
Fishing.
Swimming.
Repairing old boats with his father.
Lucas had hated the place.
Florence complained about insects, humidity, and poor cell service.
Thomas loved it.
That memory now felt important.
When they reached the property, the main cottage looked untouched.
The boathouse stood down a narrow path beside the water.
Aaron unlocked it using an old key from his key ring.
Dust covered the workbench.
Two kayaks hung from the rafters.
An aluminum fishing boat rested against the dock.
Aaron stood in the center.
"What exactly did your father say?" Ortiz asked.
"Not the lake house. The boathouse."
"Nothing else?"
"No."
They searched the obvious places first.
Cabinets.
Toolboxes.
Shelving.
Nothing.
Aaron walked slowly along the wooden floor.
His father had taught him to repair these boards when he was eleven.
He suddenly remembered Thomas replacing one plank alone.
Aaron had offered to help.
Thomas had snapped at him.
That had been unusual.
Very unusual.
Aaron looked toward the back corner.
A plank near the workbench was slightly darker than the others.
He crouched.
Ortiz joined him.
Four screws held it down.
Not nails.
Aaron grabbed a screwdriver.
His hands trembled as he loosened them.
Beneath the board was a narrow compartment.
Inside sat a waterproof plastic case.
Aaron stared at it.
Ortiz took photographs before allowing him to lift it out.
The latches were stiff.
When Aaron opened the case, he saw three envelopes, a USB drive, and a folded letter.
One envelope read Aaron.
One read Lucas.
The third read In case Florence finds this first.
Aaron's stomach twisted.
Ortiz exhaled.
"Your father expected trouble."
Aaron opened his envelope.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Son,
If you are reading this, I failed to solve this while I was alive.
I need you to understand one thing before anything else.
The money was never the biggest secret.
Aaron stopped.
Ortiz watched him.
He continued.
For years your mother has controlled accounts I allowed her to manage because I trusted her. That was my mistake.
When I learned she had been moving money through shell companies, I confronted her.
She told me it was for the boys.
It wasn't.
I began collecting evidence.
Then I learned Lucas was helping her.
Aaron closed his eyes.
He wanted to deny it.
He could not.
The letter continued.
I changed my estate plan.
The lake property remains divided between you and Lucas.
But the controlling family trust is yours.
Do not let Florence convince you otherwise.
There is another matter.
Your mother's crimes did not begin with money.
Aaron's pulse quickened.
The rest of the letter contained only one instruction.
Watch the drive before you speak to anyone in the family.
Ortiz retrieved a department laptop from her car.
They connected the USB drive inside the cottage.
There were accounting files.
Scanned bank records.
Emails.
Audio recordings.
And one video file.
The video opened with Thomas seated at a desk.
He looked thinner than Aaron remembered.
Older.
Tired.
The date showed six weeks before his death.
Thomas looked directly into the camera.
"Aaron, if you're seeing this, then I probably ran out of time."
Aaron stopped breathing.
"I should have told you years ago. I didn't because I wanted to protect you and Lucas from knowing what kind of marriage I had built."
Thomas looked down.
"Florence has been stealing from the family companies for more than fifteen years. I confronted her after discovering transfers to accounts connected to Bellweather."
Aaron glanced at Ortiz.
Bellweather had existed far longer than Lucas claimed.
Thomas continued.
"I intended to divorce her."
Aaron stared.
His parents had never separated.
"I had an attorney prepare everything. Three nights after Florence learned, I collapsed."
Aaron's skin went cold.
Thomas had died of what doctors believed was a heart attack.
On the video, his father hesitated.
"My cardiologist found something in my blood work that concerned him. He recommended more tests."
Ortiz leaned forward.
Thomas looked into the camera again.
"Florence canceled the appointment."
Aaron whispered, "No."
"I rescheduled without telling her. I also gave a sample to a private laboratory."
Thomas reached off camera and lifted an envelope.
"The results are in the files."
Aaron searched the USB folder.
He found a scanned laboratory report.
Ortiz read it first.
Her expression changed.
"What?"
She looked at him.
"There were compounds in his blood inconsistent with his prescriptions."
Aaron felt the room tilt.
"Are you saying she poisoned him?"
"I'm saying this requires medical and forensic review."
Thomas's recording continued.
"If something happens to me, do not assume it was natural."
Aaron stood so abruptly the chair scraped the floor.
Ortiz reached toward him.
"Sit down."
"My father knew."
"Aaron."
"He knew."
"Aaron, listen to me."
He paced toward the window.
Outside, the lake looked exactly as it had when Thomas was alive.
Peaceful.
Ordinary.
Ortiz spoke carefully.
"Your father's suspicions are evidence, not proof. But combined with financial fraud and what happened to Maya, it becomes very serious."
Aaron turned.
"What happened to Lucas?"
Ortiz frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"The envelope."
Aaron had forgotten the envelope marked Lucas.
He picked it up.
Unlike Aaron's letter, it was sealed.
He tore it open.
Lucas,
You are my son and I love you.
But if you are still helping your mother when this is found, then you made your choice.
I know about Bellweather.
I know why you need the money.
And I know Florence promised to fix it.
She can't.
Tell Aaron what happened in December before she destroys both of you.
Aaron read the final sentence twice.
"What happened in December?" Ortiz asked.
Aaron stared at the page.
"I have no idea."
His phone rang.
Maya.
He answered immediately.
Her voice was strained.
"Aaron, where are you?"
"At the lake. What's wrong?"
"Someone came into my hospital room."
His grip tightened.
"Who?"
"I don't know. A man. He said he was delivering flowers."
Aaron looked at Ortiz.
"What happened?"
"He left when a nurse came in."
"Did he touch you?"
"No."
"Did he say anything?"
Maya went quiet.
"Maya?"
"He whispered something."
"What?"
"He said Florence wants the card."
Aaron felt his blood go cold.
May you like
"What else?"
"He said if we keep digging, Chloe will learn what happened to her grandfather."
