Chapter 12 - The Sin Richard Could Not Blame on Anyone Else)
Caroline had spent weeks discovering reasons to defend Richard from crimes he might not have committed.
Now he handed her one he had.
“You knew?”
Richard stood.
“I knew there was an allegation.”
“A worker told you toxic drums were buried under the site.”
“He told Vale.”
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“And three days later he died.”
“It was ruled an accident.”
“And you said nothing?”
Richard looked furious now, but the anger did not conceal the shame.
“We were thirty-eight years old. The project was collapsing. Vale said Trent was unstable.”
“So you believed him?”
“I believed what was convenient.”
Caroline stared at him.
There it was.
The closest Richard Hayes had ever come to confessing anything.
“What happened to the project?”
“It died.”
“Why did you buy the property twenty years later?”
“Because Vale offered the assemblage opportunity through intermediaries.”
“You didn’t recognize the location?”
“Not immediately.”
Caroline almost shouted.
“How do you not recognize land where a man died after warning you about buried chemicals?”
Richard hit the box with his hand.
“Because there were a hundred parcels and dozens of addresses. Because the old buildings were gone. Because I spent twenty years telling myself South Crown had never happened.”
Nobody spoke.
Richard looked toward the evidence boxes.
“Then Rebecca started pushing the deal.”
Caroline frowned.
“Rebecca?”
“She said Westbridge could be my legacy.”
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
“Did she mention Vale?”
“No.”
“Did Elaine?”
“No.”
James opened the first box.
Inside were old project files from South Crown.
Several documents carried Vale Industries letterhead.
Then Naomi found a folder labeled TRENCH 4.
Inside were photographs.
Rusting industrial drums.
A deep excavation.
Men wearing protective masks.
And one photograph of a young construction worker pointing toward the ground.
Samuel Trent.
Caroline felt sick.
Richard took the photograph.
His hand shook.
“I never saw these.”
“Who had them?”
“Vale, maybe.”
James found a handwritten memo.
S.T. continues threatening disclosure. M.V. says matter will be handled before county inspection.
Caroline stared at the initials.
S.T.
Samuel Trent.
M.V.
Marcus Vale.
Richard sat again.
Naomi photographed every page.
Evan opened another box.
“Here.”
Bank records.
Old ones.
Payments from Vale Industries to a company called Porter Administrative Services.
Elaine.
Payments to an entity connected to Rebecca’s late husband.
And one check.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
Payable to Richard Hayes.
Caroline looked at her father.
Richard stared at the check.
“What was that?”
He did not answer.
“Dad.”
“Consulting.”
“For Vale?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After South Crown collapsed.”
“Why?”
“He owed me money.”
Caroline laughed once.
It contained no humor.
“Of course.”
Richard stood.
“I didn’t kill Samuel Trent.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“You’re thinking it.”
“I’m thinking you learned a man warned about buried chemicals, died three days later, and you accepted twenty-five thousand dollars from the property owner afterward.”
Richard looked like she had struck him.
“The payment had nothing to do with Trent.”
“Can you prove that?”
“No.”
“Then maybe stop pretending consequences are insults.”
The storage facility door opened.
Everyone turned.
A security guard stood there.
“Ms. Hayes?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a woman outside asking for Mr. Hayes.”
Richard frowned.
“Who?”
The guard looked at a note.
“Diane Hayes.”
Caroline’s mother entered a minute later.
She looked terrified.
“Mom? How did you know we were here?”
Diane held up her phone.
“Elaine called me.”
Richard stepped forward.
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“What did she say?”
Diane looked at her husband.
“She said if Caroline opens the black case, somebody is going to die.”
Everyone turned toward the back wall.
May you like
Beneath a folded tarp sat a small black equipment case.
Nobody had noticed it.
