Chapter 9: The Box
Nobody moved.
David stood on the other side of the door.
I could hear his breathing faintly through the wood.
Then came three slow knocks.
“Evelyn.””
Marcus positioned himself between the door and us.
“You need to leave.””
David laughed.
“I don't think you understand, Marcus.””
“I understand enough.””
“No. You don't.””
Marcus's hand hovered near his phone.
“I've called the police.””
“Good.””
David sounded almost amused.
“They should hear this too.””
I stepped forward.
Marcus turned.
“Evelyn, don't.””
I stopped.
David spoke through the door.
“Your mother didn't trust banks.””
My stomach tightened.
“What?””
“She trusted old-fashioned hiding places.””
I stared at the floor.
The memory of the blue metal box became sharper.
My mother's attic.
Dust.
A broken rocking chair.
Old Christmas decorations.
A cedar trunk.
The box hidden beneath loose floorboards.
I whispered, “The attic.””
David heard me.
“Yes.””
Marcus looked at me.
“How does he know?””
David answered before I could.
“Because I was there when she hid it.””
Tasha shook her head.
“You weren't.””
“I was.””
“You left before she moved it.””
David laughed.
“You never understood what you were seeing.””
Tasha backed away.
“Don't listen to him.””
David's voice became cold.
“You've always been terrible at knowing when to keep your mouth shut.””
Marcus called through the door.
“David, step away from my house.””
“I don't want your house.””
“What do you want?””
“The box.””
Marcus glanced at me.
David continued.
“The one Evelyn's mother left behind.””
I swallowed.
“I don't have it.””
“You will.””
“Why?””
“Because your mother took something that belonged to me.””
“The money?””
“No.””
He paused.
“The evidence.””
I frowned.
“What evidence?””
“The names.””
Tasha's face changed.
Marcus noticed.
“What names?””
David said, “The people who helped me.””
I looked at Tasha.
She wouldn't meet my eyes.
“Your mother copied everything,” David continued.
“Payments. Transfers. Names.
Dates. Meetings.””
My mind raced.
The account wasn't the only thing my mother had hidden.
She had kept records.
Records that could expose everyone involved.
“Why did she give them to me?”” I asked.
“She didn't.””
David's voice softened.
“She gave you something else.””
“What?””
“A reason to keep looking.””
I remembered my mother sitting at the kitchen table a week before she died.
She had looked frightened.
She had taken my hand.
She'd said, If anything happens to me, don't trust the first story you're given.
I had thought she was talking about the investigation.
I had never asked what she meant.
Now I understood.
“Why didn't you tell me?”” I whispered.
David answered.
“Because you weren't ready.””
“For what?””
“To know what your family was involved in.””
Marcus turned toward me.
“What is he talking about?””
I shook my head.
“I don't know.””
David laughed.
“You still don't understand.””
Marcus shouted, “Enough.””
Then David said something that silenced all of us.
“Your wife wasn't the only one who found my money.””
Marcus stared at the door.
“Who else?””
“Your father.””
I felt the world tilt.
Marcus turned toward me.
“What?””
David continued.
“Ask him.””
Marcus's face went pale.
“My father died twelve years ago.””
“I know.””
“What does he have to do with this?””
“He helped move the money.””
I looked at Marcus.
He looked genuinely stunned.
“My father never knew David.””
David laughed.
“He knew me.””
“No.””
“He met me several times.””
Marcus shook his head.
“You're lying.””
“Ask him about the summer of 2004.””
Marcus froze.
I watched the color drain from his face.
“What?”” I asked.
He didn't answer.
“Marcus.””
He stared at the floor.
“I remember something.””
“What?””
“My father had a storage unit.””
I frowned.
“Where?””
“I don't know.””
“Marcus.””
“I was young.””
“You were twenty-six.””
He looked at me.
“He told me never to ask about it.””
David laughed from outside.
“Exactly.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
“I thought it was his business.””
“It was.””
David's voice hardened.
“And now it's yours.””
The police sirens sounded in the distance.
David's tone changed.
“We're running out of time.””
Marcus looked toward the street.
“Good.””
David said, “Evelyn, listen carefully.””
I moved closer to the door.
“Don't.””
Marcus tried to stop me.
I shook my head.
“Let me hear him.””
David continued.
“The box isn't in your mother's house.””
I froze.
“What?””
“She moved it.””
“Where?””
“Your father-in-law's storage unit.””
Marcus stared at me.
“My father's?””
“Yes.””
“When?””
“Three days before she died.””
Tasha whispered, “That's impossible.””
David laughed.
“Is it?””
Marcus pulled out his phone.
He opened a notes app.
“I have his old paperwork.””
He began scrolling.
Then stopped.
“What?””
“There was a storage facility.””
“Where?””
“About forty miles from here.””
David said, “Unit 318.””
Marcus stared at the screen.
“That number is here.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
“My father left me the paperwork.””
“Why didn't you know?””
“I never opened the box.””
David said, “Because you were never supposed to.””
The police sirens grew louder.
Tasha grabbed Jordan's arm.
“We have to go.””
Jordan looked at her.
“Where?””
“Somewhere safe.””
Marcus shook his head.
“No. We're staying together.””
David's voice came through the door one last time.
“Evelyn.””
I looked toward it.
“Go to the storage unit.””
Marcus immediately shook his head.
“Absolutely not.””
David continued.
“Open Unit 318.””
“Why would we do anything you say?””
“Because you'll find your mother's records.””
He paused.
“And you'll find out who killed her.””
The line went dead.
At that exact moment, police lights washed blue and red across the windows.
Marcus opened the front door.
Two officers approached.
David was gone.
The SUV was gone.
Only tire marks remained on the street.
One officer spoke to Marcus.
“Sir, we received a call about a possible threat.””
Marcus nodded.
“We need to tell you everything.””
I looked at Jordan.
His face was exhausted.
He looked younger than seventeen.
Just a kid who had gotten tangled in something far too big for him.
I pulled him into my arms.
He held me tightly.
“I’m sorry, Mom.””
I closed my eyes.
“You don't have to apologize for trying to help someone.””
“I made it worse.””
“You didn't create this.””
He pulled away.
“I should've told you.””
“Yes.””
“I know.””
“But you told us now.””
Across the room, Tasha was speaking quietly with one of the officers.
Marcus came back.
“We're going to the station.””
I nodded.
Then I looked at the photograph from the black envelope.
My mother.
Tasha.
A baby.
And me.
There was something written on the back.
I hadn't noticed it before.
I turned it over.
Four words.
*KEEP HER WITH YOU.*
Underneath was a date.
The date of my mother's death.
My hands began shaking.
Marcus saw it.
“What?””
I handed him the photograph.
He read the message.
Then his eyes moved to Tasha.
She was watching us.
I walked toward her.
“Tasha.””
She looked up.
“What?””
“Why did my mother write this?””
Tasha stared at the photograph.
Her face crumpled.
“She knew she was going to die.””
“Why?””
“I don't know.””
“You were there.””
“I know.””
“Then tell me.””
Tasha wiped her cheeks.
“She told me David wasn't the only person she was afraid of.””
I felt a chill.
“Who else?””
Tasha looked toward Marcus.
Then Jordan.
Then back at me.
“She said the person who wanted the money wasn't working for David.””
“Who was it?””
Tasha shook her head.
“I never found out.””
“Then how did my mother know?””
Tasha whispered, “Because she recognized the handwriting.””
I stared at her.
“What handwriting?””
“The person who sent David the account information.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“Who?””
Tasha looked at me.
“Your mother said the person was someone you trusted.””
I felt my stomach drop.
“Someone I trusted?””
Tasha nodded.
“Someone who had access to your home.””
My eyes moved slowly around the room.
Marcus.
Jordan.
My mother.
The old photographs.
The kitchen.
The family I thought I knew.
Then I remembered the last line of David's message.
*You still have my money.*
Not your mother had my money.
Not the money is missing.
You still have it.
As if he knew exactly where it was.
As if someone had told him.
The police officer called Marcus from the foyer.
“We need to go.””
Marcus nodded.
I turned toward him.
“Marcus.””
He looked at me.
“What?””
“Do you remember who had access to your father's storage unit?””
He frowned.
“Not really.””
“Think.””
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then something flickered across his face.
“One person.””
“Who?””
“My father's attorney.””
I waited.
Marcus swallowed.
“David Mercer.””
My heart stopped.
The police officer opened the front door.
Cold night air swept through the house.
And somewhere outside, hidden in the darkness, a phone began ringing.
Not mine.
Not Marcus's.
Not Jordan's.
Tasha's.
She looked at the screen.
Her face went completely white.
The caller ID displayed one name.
*LENA.*
She answered.
A girl's terrified voice whispered through the speaker.
“Mom?””
Tasha closed her eyes.
“Lena?””
There was a sharp breath.
Then Lena whispered six words.
“Don't go to the storage unit.””
The call ended.
Tasha lowered the phone.
Marcus stared at her.
“Why?””
May you like
Tasha looked at me.
“Because she said someone is already there.””