Chapter 7: The Woman Who Made the Last Call
“Please don't open it.””
Patricia's voice trembled through Marcus's phone.
He stood in his father's office, holding the receipt for Locker 309. I watched his fingers tighten around the paper.
“Mom, why were you paying for Andre's locker?””
“I can explain.””
“Then explain.””
“Not over the phone.””
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“That's what everybody keeps saying. Nobody wants to explain anything until we're standing in front of them.””
Patricia began crying.
“Marcus, please. I know what you're thinking, but I didn't kill that boy.””
I stepped closer.
“Then why did Andre call you?””
There was silence.
I leaned toward the phone.
“Mrs. Carter, did Andre contact you the night he died?””
Patricia exhaled shakily.
“Yes.””
My stomach tightened.
“What did he say?””
“He told me he had something important to give me.””
“What?””
“He said he had proof that Robert was stealing money from the company.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
“Why didn't you tell us?””
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of Dad?””
“Of both of them.””
I stared at the receipt.
“Both of them?””
Patricia hesitated.
“Raymond and Robert had been working together for years. I didn't know how deep it went until Andre showed me the documents.””
Marcus walked toward the window.
“So you knew they were involved in something illegal?””
“I knew Robert was moving money. I didn't know about the murders. I swear.””
“Then why did you hide the evidence?””
Her voice broke.
“Because Andre asked me to.””
That stopped us.
I looked at Marcus.
“What?””
Patricia continued.
“He called me before he died. He said he was scared. He told me that if anything happened to him, I needed to keep the evidence somewhere safe.””
Marcus stared at the phone.
“Why would he trust you?””
Patricia gave a quiet, painful laugh.
“Because I was the only person who had ever told him to leave you alone.””
Marcus frowned.
“Me?””
“No, sweetheart. Danielle.””
I felt my chest tighten.
Patricia explained that Andre had visited her weeks before his death.
He had told her about his relationship with me, about my father, and about the money he had discovered.
He had also told her something else.
He was planning to leave town.
Not because he had stopped loving me.
Because he believed staying close to me would put me in danger.
“He asked me to promise that if anything happened, I wouldn't let Danielle get dragged into it,” Patricia said.
I covered my mouth.
“And you agreed?””
“Yes.””
“Then why did you let me believe he died in a robbery?””
“I didn't know how to tell you that the men responsible were connected to your family.””
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Mom, what exactly is in Locker 309?””
“Everything Andre gave me.””
“Why didn't you turn it over to the police?””
“Because the police were already compromised.””
Marcus looked at me.
Patricia continued.
“There's a recording. A second recording. Andre made it after he realized the first one might not be enough.””
I gripped the desk.
“Does it say who shot him?””
“I don't know.””
“You've never listened to it?””
“I listened to the first few seconds.””
“And?””
Patricia began sobbing again.
“I heard Robert's voice.””
Marcus went still.
“What did he say?””
“I couldn't listen anymore.””
“Mom!””
“He said something about making sure the girl never found out.””
I felt cold.
Patricia whispered, “I thought he meant you.””
Then the call ended.
Marcus stared at his phone.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he looked at me.
“We're going to Locker 309.””
The storage facility was nearly empty when we arrived.
A security guard sat behind a glass window, watching a basketball game on a small television.
Marcus showed him the receipt.
“Locker 309.””
The guard checked his computer.
“That's been paid through the end of the month.””
“Who owns it?””
The guard looked at the screen.
“Patricia Carter.””
Marcus nodded.
“She's my mother. She gave us permission.””
The guard hesitated.
“Do you have identification?””
Marcus handed it over.
After checking the information, the guard gave us a small key.
“Third aisle. Bottom row.””
We walked down the narrow corridor.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
Locker 309 was smaller than I expected.
Marcus inserted the key.
It opened.
Inside sat a plastic storage box, a brown envelope, and a small portable recorder.
There were also several photographs.
I recognized Andre immediately.
He was sitting in a restaurant booth with Patricia.
They were smiling.
I stared at the photograph.
“He trusted her.””
Marcus picked it up.
“Looks like it.””
I opened the brown envelope.
Inside were copies of bank statements, handwritten notes, and several pages of printed emails.
One email was dated two days before Andre died.
The sender was Robert Carter.
The recipient was Raymond Brooks.
The subject line read:
*FINAL PAYMENT.*
I read the message.
The boy has the documents. Get them back before he talks. I don't care how you do it, but I want this finished.
My hands started shaking.
Marcus read over my shoulder.
“That's enough to establish a connection.””
I turned another page.
It was a handwritten note from Andre.
Patricia, if you are reading this, I couldn't make it.
Please give Danielle the truth when it's safe.
Tell her I never blamed her for leaving.
I stopped.
Leaving?
I looked at the date.
It was written three days before his death.
Marcus noticed my expression.
“What is it?””
I handed him the note.
He read it.
“Why would he say you left?””
I swallowed.
“Because I did.””
Seven years earlier, Andre and I had argued.
It was the only serious argument we had ever had.
He had arrived at my apartment late one evening, visibly upset. His shirt was wrinkled, and there was a small cut above his eyebrow.
I asked what happened.
He told me he had been helping someone.
I asked who.
He wouldn't answer.
I became angry.
“Andre, I'm tired of you disappearing and coming back like nothing happened.””
He rubbed his face.
“Danielle, I'm trying to fix something.””
“Then let me help.””
“You can't.””
“Why?””
“Because I don't want you involved.””
I had mistaken his fear for dishonesty.
I told him I couldn't build a future with someone who refused to let me into his life.
He stared at me.
“Are you saying you want to end this?””
I cried.
“I don't know what else to do.””
He nodded.
Then he kissed my forehead.
“Okay.””
He left.
I never saw him alive again.
Now, reading those words, I understood something.
Andre hadn't been abandoning me.
He had been trying to keep me safe.
I pressed the paper against my chest.
Marcus put an arm around me.
“I'm sorry.””
I shook my head.
“I should have listened.””
“You didn't know.””
“I should have trusted him.””
Marcus gently took the note.
“You can't punish yourself for something you couldn't understand.””
I wiped my eyes.
Then I noticed something at the bottom of the box.
A small envelope with my name written across it.
*Danielle.*
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of Andre and me at the beach.
We were laughing.
His arm was around my waist.
On the back, he had written:
If we don't get our happy ending, I hope you find yours.
I began crying.
Marcus held me.
Then a sound came from the portable recorder.
A tiny red light was blinking.
The device was already running.
Marcus picked it up.
A voice came through.
Patricia.
“Andre, I can't keep this from you anymore.””
Andre answered.
“Then tell me.””
Patricia took a shaky breath.
“Robert wasn't just moving money. He was using the company to pay people to make certain problems disappear.””
Andre asked, “What people?””
Patricia whispered a name.
A name that made Marcus step backward.
His own.
“Marcus Carter.””
I stared at him.
The recording continued.
Patricia said, “He doesn't know what his father is doing. But if Robert finds out you have the documents, he'll use his own son to silence you.””
Andre answered quietly.
“Then I need to talk to Marcus before something happens.””
The recording stopped.
Marcus stared at the device.
“My father was using my name?””
I couldn't speak.
He looked at the photograph of Andre.
Then at the bank statements.
Then at the recorder.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
An unknown number.
He answered.
“Hello?””
A man's voice spoke.
“Marcus, this is Detective Harris. I need you to listen carefully.””
Marcus looked at me.
“What is it?””
The detective took a breath.
“We've located your father.””
“Where?””
“He's at the police station.””
“Why?””
“Because someone just came forward and confessed to shooting Andre Jackson.””
Marcus tightened his grip on the phone.
“Who?””
The detective paused.
May you like
Then answered:
“Your mother.””
