Chapter 6 - noah knew about sarah)
Noah Benson did not arrive at the abandoned Hayes manufacturing plant.
His car did.
Police found it beside Warehouse C with the driver’s door open and blood on the steering wheel.
Not much blood.
Enough to prove something had happened.
Daniel stood behind the police perimeter while detectives searched.
The factory had been closed for fourteen years, but Daniel still remembered visiting as a child.
His father used to walk him through the production floor on Saturday mornings.
Richard Hayes had been a hard man.
Demanding.
Distant.
But never cruel to Daniel.
At least not in the ways Margaret later claimed.
After Richard died, Margaret had sold most of the family manufacturing assets and moved the money into investments.
Warehouse C had remained because of environmental disputes tied to the property.
Detective Brooks approached.
“Noah isn’t inside.”
“Then where is he?”
“We found signs of a struggle.”
Daniel looked toward the car.
“Is the blood his?”
“Lab will confirm.”
Daniel rubbed his face.
Noah had been at his wedding.
Noah had held Elodie when Sarah’s casket was lowered into the ground because Daniel had been shaking too badly.
Noah had been the first person Daniel called the night Elodie was born.
If Noah had been working with Margaret, Daniel could not understand when it began.
Brooks held up a small evidence bag.
“We found this beneath the passenger seat.”
Inside was a key.
Old brass.
A faded plastic tag read ARCHIVE 3.
Daniel frowned.
“There used to be an archive room beneath the executive office.”
“Still accessible?”
“I don’t know.”
They entered the main building.
Dust covered the floor.
Old safety signs hung crookedly on the walls.
The executive wing smelled of mildew and rust.
Archive Room 3 was locked.
The key fit.
Inside were metal filing cabinets and boxes no one had touched in years.
Daniel switched on his phone flashlight.
Brooks found the electrical panel.
A single fluorescent fixture flickered awake.
They searched for twenty minutes.
Then Daniel found a box with his father’s handwriting.
PERSONAL.
Inside were tax records, letters, medical bills and a small cassette recorder.
There was also a photograph.
Richard Hayes stood beside a younger Margaret.
A young man stood beside them.
Daniel had never seen him.
He was perhaps twenty-five.
Dark hair.
Thin face.
A noticeable scar near the left eyebrow.
On the back, Richard had written:
Thomas, Margaret, me. 1998.
Daniel stared.
“Thomas Vale knew my parents before Sarah hired him.”
Brooks took the photo.
“That changes things.”
Another box contained company correspondence.
Thomas Vale had worked for Hayes Manufacturing as internal security director.
Daniel’s stomach tightened.
“He wasn’t a private investigator.”
“Maybe later.”
Daniel searched deeper.
Then he found a sealed envelope addressed to him.
Richard’s handwriting.
Daniel sat on the dusty floor.
He opened it.
Son,
If your mother gives you this, then I was wrong about her.
If she does not, and you found it another way, then I was right.
Daniel’s heart pounded.
The letter was dated two months before Richard’s death.
I have discovered financial transfers I did not authorize. Margaret says Thomas made them. Thomas says Margaret instructed him.
Neither is telling me everything.
I changed my will yesterday.
Until I understand what has happened, I am placing control of the company trust in a temporary structure.
Margaret does not know the final terms.
If something happens to me, speak to Arthur Glenn, not the family attorneys.
Daniel whispered, “Arthur Glenn.”
Brooks asked, “Who?”
“My father’s accountant.”
“Alive?”
“I don’t know.”
Richard’s letter continued.
There is something else.
I have been ill for months.
Margaret believes it is stress.
My doctor believes it may be medication interaction.
I do not remember taking some of the pills found in my blood.
Daniel lowered the letter.
The same pattern.
Unexplained medication.
Fatigue.
Confusion.
His father.
Elodie.
Possibly Sarah.
Brooks read over his shoulder.
“Did your father die at home?”
“Yes.”
“Who found him?”
Daniel already knew.
“My mother.”
The fluorescent light buzzed overhead.
Then a sound came from the hallway.
Metal scraping concrete.
Brooks drew her weapon.
“Police.”
No response.
She signaled Daniel to stay back.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Then a figure appeared at the doorway.
Noah.
His shirt was torn.
Blood covered one side of his forehead.
Daniel rushed forward.
“Noah.”
Brooks stopped him.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Noah raised both hands.
“I’m not armed.”
“Get on your knees.”
He obeyed.
Daniel stared at him.
“Were you at the hospital?”
Noah looked up.
“No.”
“The camera shows your watch.”
Noah glanced at his wrist.
Bare.
“They took it.”
“Who?”
Noah looked at Brooks.
“Margaret’s partner.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Thomas Vale?”
Noah shook his head.
“No.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Then who?”
Noah looked at him.
“The man Sarah discovered before she died.”
Daniel felt his pulse stop.
“Who?”
Noah swallowed.
“Your uncle.”
Daniel stared.
“I don’t have an uncle.”
May you like
Noah gave a tired, bitter laugh.
“That is what Margaret made sure you believed.”
