Chapter 7 - The Man Who Smiled at My Father's Funeral
Richard Whitaker was sixty-eight years old.
He had been my father's younger brother, my childhood favorite uncle, and the man Daniel called Uncle Richie.
He had taught me to drive.
He had attended every birthday party.
He had sat beside me at Dad's funeral, holding my hand while I cried.
And according to my father's final warning, he had betrayed us.
I wanted to believe there was a mistake.
But by then, I had learned how dangerous it was to confuse wanting something to be true with having evidence that it was.
Detective Price took possession of the flash drive and arranged for its contents to be examined.
Arthur provided the original financial documents.
Rachel Monroe prepared a preliminary summary of the suspicious transactions.
For the first time, the secrets that had lived inside my family for decades were being examined by people who had no reason to protect Mark.
That should have comforted me.
Instead, I felt terrified.
Because every answer seemed to reveal another lie.
Two days later, Detective Price called.
"Mrs. Bennett, we'd like you to come to the station."
Daniel drove me.
When we arrived, Detective Price led us into a conference room.
She placed several photographs on the table.
The first showed Richard entering an office building.
The second showed him meeting a man outside a restaurant.
The third showed him getting into a black SUV.
I recognized the vehicle immediately.
"That's the car outside Daniel's house."
Detective Price nodded.
"We believe so."
"Who's the other man?"
"Victor Hale."
I stared at the photograph.
Victor was older than I'd imagined.
He had silver hair, an expensive coat, and the composed expression of someone who had spent his life believing consequences were for other people.
Detective Price continued.
"Your father's recording contains a conversation about financial records, threats, and efforts to prevent disclosure. We're still verifying its authenticity and context."
I nodded.
"What about Richard?"
"We have evidence of recent contact between him and Hale. We're investigating the nature of their relationship."
Daniel leaned forward.
"Did they kill Grandpa?"
Detective Price looked at him.
"We don't have evidence that your grandfather was murdered. His recorded cause of death was a heart attack. What we're investigating includes threats made years before his death."
I appreciated her honesty.
I had already lost too much to people who told me what they thought I wanted to hear.
Then she showed us another document.
A wire transfer.
The recipient was Richard Whitaker.
The amount was three hundred thousand dollars.
The date was eleven years earlier.
Three weeks after Robert Whitmore died.
I felt sick.
"Richard was paid."
Detective Price nodded.
"That's one possible explanation. We need to establish what the payment was for."
Daniel stared at the paper.
"Uncle Richie?"
I thought about every holiday.
Every family dinner.
Every time Richard had looked at me and asked whether Mark was treating me well.
Had he been mocking me?
Or had he spent years feeling guilty?
I didn't know which possibility hurt more.
That evening, Richard called.
"Carol, sweetheart. I heard you've been asking questions."
His familiar voice made my stomach twist.
I looked at Daniel.
He nodded toward the recording application on my phone.
I didn't start recording until I had checked the legal guidance Detective Price had given us.
"Richard," I said, "I found Dad's letter."
Silence.
Then he sighed.
"I was afraid of that."
My heart pounded.
"Why?"
"Because Thomas never knew when to leave things alone."
I closed my eyes.
"What did you do?"
"Carol, don't believe everything he wrote."
"He said you helped Victor Hale."
Richard said nothing.
"Did you?"
A long pause.
Then he whispered, "I made a mistake."
I felt tears rising.
"What kind of mistake?"
"I gave Victor some documents."
"Why?"
"Because he threatened my business."
I stared at the wall.
"And Dad?"
Richard's voice broke.
"Thomas found out."
"What happened?"
"We argued."
I swallowed.
"When?"
"Eleven years ago."
The year Robert died.
Richard continued.
"Your father wanted to go to the authorities. I begged him to wait."
"And?"
"He refused."
I gripped the phone.
"Did you tell Victor?"
Silence.
"Richard?"
"Yes."
The word was barely audible.
I covered my mouth.
My uncle began crying.
"I didn't know Victor would go after Robert. I swear I didn't."
I felt numb.
"You knew Dad was in danger."
"Yes."
"And you said nothing."
"I'm sorry."
I stared at the ceiling.
For years, I had believed my father died knowing he was surrounded by people who loved him.
Now I was learning that some of those people had been helping the very men who threatened him.
"Richard," I whispered, "I trusted you."
He began sobbing.
"I know."
I ended the call.
Then I sat beside Daniel and cried.
Not because I wanted Richard back in my life.
But because every new betrayal was taking another piece of my childhood with it.
The next morning, Detective Price contacted me again.
Richard had agreed to cooperate with investigators through an attorney.
He had also provided information about Victor's financial network.
And he had identified the person who had recently been moving money for Victor.
Mark Bennett.
My husband.
But there was one detail nobody expected.
Mark had apparently been trying to gather evidence against Victor for several months.
He had secretly contacted a federal investigator.
And according to Richard, Jenna had discovered those meetings.
That was when she began spending time alone with Mark.
I stared at the detective.
"Are you saying Mark was working against Victor?"
"Possibly."
"Then why was he having an affair with Jenna?"
Detective Price looked at me carefully.
"Mrs. Bennett, those are two separate questions."
I understood what she meant.
Mark might have been trying to expose a criminal.
That didn't excuse betraying his wife and son.
It didn't erase the hotel.
It didn't erase the lies.
And it certainly didn't make him innocent.
That afternoon, Mark called me.
"Carol, I need to see you."
"No."
"Please. I have something important."
"Tell your attorney."
He paused.
Then said, "Victor knows Jenna gave Daniel the recordings."
My blood ran cold.
"What?"
"She's in danger."
"Where is she?"
"I don't know."
I stood up.
"Mark, what have you done?"
His voice shook.
"I tried to warn her."
"Warn her about what?"
A long silence followed.
May you like
Then Mark whispered:
"Victor thinks Jenna has the original ledger. And if he finds her before the police do, he won't let her explain that she doesn't."
