Chapter 4 - The Man Who Investigated Richard's Death Told Me One Sentence That Made Me Fear My Own FamilyMichael introduced me to Samuel Ortiz that afternoon.
Samuel was a former Chicago police detective.
He was sixty-two, broad-shouldered, and had the habit of studying every room before sitting down.
He shook my hand.
“Richard trusted very few people.”
“I know.”
“He trusted me.”
“Why?”
Samuel's expression hardened.
“Because I saved his life once.”
I stared at him.
“When?”
“Four years before the divorce.”
He told me Richard had discovered suspicious financial transfers.
At first, they appeared to be simple accounting errors.
Then the numbers grew.
Thousands became hundreds of thousands.
Hundreds of thousands became millions.
Richard hired investigators.
Someone found out.
One night, Richard's car was tampered with.
The brakes failed.
He survived.
The police called it mechanical failure.
Samuel didn't believe them.
Neither did Richard.
After that, Richard began preparing for the possibility that someone would kill him.
He created the secret account.
He documented everything.
He began recording conversations.
He copied company records.
And he started building an escape plan for me.
“What happened to him?”
I asked.
Samuel looked down.
“Eighteen months ago, Richard called me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he had finally found the person responsible.”
“Who?”
“Thomas.”
My heart sank.
“But he also said Thomas wasn't working alone.”
“Who else?”
Samuel looked at me.
“Someone much closer to you.”
I felt cold.
“Who?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“You said you saved Richard's life.”
“I did.”
“And now you're telling me someone close to me may have been involved.”
“Yes.”
I stood.
“I need to know who.”
“You will.”
“When?”
“When we have proof.”
That night, I returned home alone.
I couldn't sleep.
Every sound in the hallway made me look toward the door.
At 2:13 a.m., someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
I froze.
Then came another.
I didn't move.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
STOP DIGGING.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
RICHARD COULDN'T SAVE HIMSELF. HE WON'T SAVE YOU.
My hands began trembling.
I called Samuel.
He answered immediately.
“Claire?”
“Someone knows.”
“What happened?”
I read him the messages.
“Don't leave your apartment.”
“I'm not.”
“Lock every window.”
“I have.”
“I'm coming.”
Twenty minutes later, Samuel arrived.
He inspected the hallway.
There was no one.
But outside my door was a small white envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Richard standing beside a woman.
I recognized the woman.
My heart stopped.
It was my daughter, Emily.
But the photograph had been taken years before.
Emily was seventeen.
Richard had his arm around her.
Behind them stood Thomas.
And someone else.
I turned the photograph over.
Written on the back were five words:
Ask your daughter what she knows.
When Emily arrived the next morning, she was furious.
“Mom, I don't know anything.”
“Then why would someone send me this?”
She stared at the photograph.
Her face went pale.
I knew immediately.
“You've seen this before.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
She began crying.
“I didn't want to tell you.”
My heart broke.
“Tell me what?”
She sat down.
“Dad contacted me before the divorce.”
“When?”
“Six months before.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me something was wrong with Uncle Thomas.”
“What?”
“He said Thomas was stealing from the company.”
I closed my eyes.
“What else?”
Emily whispered:
“He said if he ever disappeared, I should protect you.”
I looked at Samuel.
He said nothing.
Emily reached into her purse.
She pulled out a small USB drive.
“I've had this for five years.”
My heart stopped.
“What's on it?”
“Dad gave it to me.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because he made me promise.”
I took the drive.
“Why are you giving it to me now?”
She looked at me.
“Because Dad is dead.”
May you like
Her voice broke.
“And I think whoever killed him knows we have it.”
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