Chapter 13 - The Black Case)
Police were called.
Naomi insisted.
Richard objected.
Nobody listened.
A bomb technician determined the case contained no explosive device.
Inside was something stranger.
A video camera.
Three encrypted flash drives.
A set of keys.
And several sealed envelopes.
One envelope had Caroline’s name.
She stared at it.
The detective asked, “Were you expecting this?”
“No.”
“Do you recognize the handwriting?”
“No.”
Richard stood several feet away with his arms folded.
“Open it.”
Naomi looked at Caroline.
“You don’t have to.”
Caroline broke the seal.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
Caroline,
Your father is guilty of arrogance, cowardice and silence.
He is not guilty of what they are preparing to blame on him.
If you want proof, ask Rebecca where Samuel Trent’s daughter is.
Do not trust Donald Reeves.
C.
Caroline read it twice.
Richard said, “What?”
She handed it to Naomi first.
Naomi’s expression changed.
Then Richard snatched it.
His eyes stopped on the final warning.
“Donald?”
Caroline looked toward James.
“Call Reeves.”
He did.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Evan checked his phone.
“His wife reported him missing this morning.”
Caroline felt the room constrict.
“When?”
“Police bulletin posted forty minutes ago.”
Richard swore.
Diane sat down.
Madison arrived shortly afterward and immediately demanded to know everything.
Caroline showed her the letter.
“Who is C?” Madison asked.
“We don’t know.”
“What does Samuel’s daughter have to do with this?”
“We don’t know that either.”
Richard was staring into the black case.
Then he noticed one of the keys.
He picked it up.
Caroline saw recognition.
“What?”
Richard said nothing.
“Dad.”
“It’s an old Hayes Development key.”
“To what?”
“Archive room.”
“Which archive?”
“The original office.”
Madison frowned.
“The one on South Tryon?”
Richard nodded.
“That building closed years ago.”
“Storage floors are still leased.”
They went with police.
The archive key opened a locked room that no current employee appeared to know existed.
Dust covered the shelves.
Old project boxes filled the walls.
On a desk sat a recent laptop charger.
Somebody had been there.
The laptop itself was gone.
Caroline searched the shelves.
Then Madison called from the back.
“Caroline.”
A metal cabinet contained employee records from 2004 and 2005.
Samuel Trent’s file was there.
Caroline opened it.
Emergency contact:
Rachel Trent.
Relationship:
Wife.
One dependent listed.
Emily Trent.
Age six.
Caroline did the math.
Emily would now be twenty-seven.
Madison’s age.
She looked at Richard.
“Did you ever meet her?”
“Who?”
“Samuel’s daughter.”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Caroline photographed the information.
Then Madison found another folder.
It was newer.
Only five years old.
EMPLOYEE SCHOLARSHIP PROGRAM.
Inside were recipients sponsored by Hayes Development.
One name made Caroline stop breathing.
Emily Trent.
Richard stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Caroline looked at him.
“You said you never met her.”
“I didn’t.”
“Your company paid for her education.”
“I didn’t personally select recipients.”
Madison pulled another sheet.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“She worked here.”
Richard took it.
Emily Trent had completed a summer internship at Hayes Development four years earlier.
Reporting supervisor:
Elaine Porter.
Caroline stared at the page.
Samuel Trent’s daughter had entered Richard’s company under Elaine’s supervision.
Then disappeared again.
Her current address was blank.
A photograph was clipped to the application.
Madison picked it up.
Her face changed.
“Oh my God.”
Caroline looked.
The young woman in the photograph had dark hair, pale skin and distinctive green eyes.
Caroline had seen her before.
Not at Hayes Development.
At the restaurant.
Standing beside Sarah Colton.
One of the bank employees who had served Richard notice.
Caroline grabbed her phone and called Sarah.
“Who came with you to dinner?”
“What?”
“The woman with the leather portfolio. You had two men and another woman outside.”
Sarah paused.
“I was the woman with the portfolio.”
“No. There was another person downstairs. Green eyes. Dark hair.”
Silence.
“Caroline, nobody matching that description came with us.”
Caroline felt cold.
Madison whispered, “Then who was she?”
Caroline remembered the restaurant lobby.
A woman watching.
Not entering.
Not speaking.
Just watching Richard receive the consequences.
May you like
Samuel Trent’s daughter had been there.
And nobody knew why.
