Chapter 9: The Accident Wasn't an Accident
Detective Laura Mitchell placed a folder on the table.
She was in her early forties, with short dark hair and a calm expression that made it difficult to guess what she was thinking.
"Before we continue," she said, "I want everyone to understand that this is now an active investigation.""
My father nodded.
Thomas remained standing beside the entrance.
Daniel moved away from the table to give the officers room.
I held Grace against my chest.
My daughter had started crying again.
I gently rocked her.
"Shh, sweetheart. It's okay.""
Detective Mitchell looked at me.
"Miss Carter, I'm sorry to bring this up tonight. But I understand you have recently received information about your husband's death.""
I nodded.
"Someone told us the accident report was altered.""
She looked at Thomas.
"Who told you that?""
I pointed toward him.
"He did.""
Thomas immediately shook his head.
"I said nothing of the sort. I simply presented a document.""
Detective Mitchell opened the folder.
"We have been reviewing the original accident investigation for several weeks.""
My father stiffened.
"Why?""
She looked at him.
"Because certain details didn't match the physical evidence.""
I felt my throat tighten.
"What details?""
"The vehicle's braking system showed signs of interference before the collision.""
My knees weakened.
I grabbed the edge of the chair.
"Interference?""
Detective Mitchell nodded.
"Our initial report classified the incident as a single-vehicle accident. However, a later mechanical review identified irregularities that were not included in the final summary.""
I looked at my father.
He was staring at the folder.
"Why wasn't I told?"" I whispered.
Detective Mitchell answered carefully.
"At the time, investigators believed the mechanical issues were unrelated to the collision. That conclusion is now being reassessed.""
I felt sick.
Marcus had been driving home from work.
It was raining that evening.
I remembered waiting for him.
I remembered looking at the clock.
I remembered calling him three times.
Then I remembered the hospital phone call.
A stranger's voice.
A question about my relationship to Marcus.
And the words that had changed my life.
"I'm sorry. There has been an accident.""
I had screamed.
I had begged them to tell me he was alive.
They wouldn't answer directly.
Now someone was telling me that the accident might have been planned.
"Did someone tamper with his car?"" I asked.
Detective Mitchell nodded slowly.
"That is one of the possibilities we're investigating.""
My father closed his eyes.
Thomas suddenly spoke.
"This is absurd. I had nothing to do with his vehicle.""
Detective Mitchell looked at him.
"Nobody has accused you yet.""
Thomas's jaw tightened.
"Then why am I being held here?""
"Because your name appears in financial records connected to a separate investigation, and you were present when this new information was disclosed.""
Thomas shook his head.
"This is a setup.""
Detective Mitchell opened another page.
"Mr. Reed, did you have contact with Marcus Carter on the evening of his death?""
"No.""
My father looked up.
"That's not true.""
Thomas turned toward him.
"Be careful, Richard.""
My father stepped forward.
"Marcus called me that night. He told me he was coming to meet me because he believed someone had tampered with his car.""
Detective Mitchell looked at my father.
"Do you have a record of that call?""
"Yes.""
"Have you provided it to investigators?""
My father hesitated.
"I provided the call history.""
"Did you provide the voicemail?""
My father looked confused.
"What voicemail?""
Detective Mitchell placed a printed transcript on the table.
"Mr. Carter, Marcus left a voicemail on your phone approximately eleven minutes before the collision.""
My father stared at the page.
I looked at him.
"You had a voicemail?""
He shook his head.
"I never received one.""
Detective Mitchell turned the paper around.
"The recording was recovered from the phone company's archived system.""
My father slowly reached for it.
His hands began trembling.
He read the transcript.
Then he covered his mouth.
"What does it say?"" I asked.
He couldn't answer.
Detective Mitchell read it aloud.
"'Dad, I know who's behind the payments. I found the original authorization. It's not Thomas.
Someone used your credentials, but the access came from another office. I'm bringing the documents to you. Don't tell anyone I'm coming.''"
I looked at my father.
"Another office?""
Detective Mitchell nodded.
"Yes.""
She opened another document.
"According to the recovered records, the unauthorized login originated from a workstation assigned to a senior executive.""
Daniel looked at the screen.
"Which executive?""
Detective Mitchell paused.
Then she said:
"Daniel Brooks.""
The room went completely silent.
I looked at Daniel.
He had been standing beside my father all evening.
He had brought the ownership documents.
He had explained the company structure.
He had helped expose Vanessa's misconduct.
And now the police were saying his office had been used to authorize the missing payments.
Daniel immediately shook his head.
"That's impossible.""
Detective Mitchell remained calm.
"Mr. Brooks, we're not saying you personally authorized the transactions. We're saying your credentials were used.""
"My credentials were cloned.""
"That is possible.""
"I was out of the country on two of those dates.""
"Which is why we need your travel records.""
Daniel looked at my father.
"Richard, you know me.""
My father didn't respond.
Daniel's voice became urgent.
"I've worked with you for seventeen years. You know I would never do this.""
My father looked toward the detective.
"Do you have evidence connecting Daniel to the vehicle?""
Detective Mitchell opened another folder.
"Not directly. But there is evidence that someone accessed the vehicle's electronic service history through a company account.""
Daniel stared at her.
"Which account?""
She turned the page.
"An administrative account belonging to Carter Hospitality.""
My father looked at Daniel.
"Who had access?""
Daniel swallowed.
"Several senior employees.""
"Names.""
Daniel listed them.
"Thomas Reed. Me. The regional operations director. And the executive assistant.""
Detective Mitchell wrote something down.
"Who is the executive assistant?""
Daniel answered.
"Rebecca Shaw.""
I looked at my father.
"Who is Rebecca?""
He replied quietly.
"She handles executive correspondence and scheduling.""
Detective Mitchell closed the folder.
"We'll need to speak with her.""
Thomas suddenly laughed.
Everyone turned.
"What's funny?"" my father demanded.
Thomas shook his head.
"You still don't see it.""
Daniel stepped toward him.
"Stop talking.""
Thomas looked at me.
"Your husband discovered something that went far beyond missing payments. He found out that someone had been using the company to move money into accounts connected to a much larger operation.""
Detective Mitchell interrupted.
"Mr. Reed, you will answer questions through the proper channels.""
Thomas ignored her.
"And the person who controlled the operation wasn't me.""
My father stared at him.
"Who was it?""
Thomas looked directly at Daniel.
"Ask him.""
Daniel's face tightened.
"I have no idea what you're talking about.""
Thomas laughed again.
"Then perhaps you should ask Rebecca why she called Marcus the night before he died.""
I felt my heart stop.
Detective Mitchell immediately looked up.
"Rebecca contacted Marcus?""
Thomas nodded.
"She called him from a private number.""
Daniel shook his head.
"That's impossible.""
Thomas turned toward him.
"You know what's impossible? The idea that you could hide this forever.""
My father stepped closer.
"Thomas, tell us the truth.""
Thomas looked at me.
"Your husband was going to expose the person who had been using your father's authority to steal money. He believed the person was someone in senior management.""
I whispered.
"Who?""
Thomas leaned closer.
"Rebecca.""
Daniel suddenly moved.
"That's enough!""
James stepped between them.
Detective Mitchell raised her hand.
"Everyone stay where you are.""
Thomas continued.
"Rebecca controlled the schedules, the internal correspondence, and access to Richard's electronic authorization. She could make it look as though every approval came from him.""
My father looked devastated.
"Rebecca has been with us for eleven years.""
Thomas nodded.
"Exactly.""
I looked toward Daniel.
"Why would she do that?""
Daniel was breathing heavily.
"Because she was working with someone.""
"Who?""
He didn't answer.
Then his phone vibrated.
He looked down.
A message appeared.
His expression changed instantly.
Detective Mitchell noticed.
"Mr. Brooks, may I see your phone?""
Daniel hesitated.
Then he handed it over.
She read the message.
Her face became serious.
The message was from Rebecca Shaw.
*I know what happened at the Sterling Room. Get Danielle out of there before she opens Marcus's second file.*
I looked at Daniel.
"Second file?""
He slowly turned toward my father.
My father stared back.
"Daniel, what second file?""
Daniel shook his head.
"I don't know.""
Detective Mitchell returned the phone.
"Does anyone know where this second file is?""
Nobody answered.
Then I remembered something.
The envelope.
The USB drive.
The photograph.
The letter.
I had seen another item inside the package.
A small folded piece of paper tucked behind Marcus's letter.
I reached into my handbag.
I had placed it there earlier without opening it.
My hands trembled as I unfolded it.
There was one sentence.
*If Rebecca is still working for the company, the truth is inside the blue room.*
I looked up.
"What's the blue room?""
My father frowned.
"There's an old executive archive room at headquarters. It has blue walls.""
Daniel stared at the paper.
Then he looked toward the detective.
"That's where the original company records were kept before the renovation.""
Detective Mitchell immediately called another officer.
"We need to secure that location.""
But before she could finish, James approached my father.
"Richard, we have a situation.""
My father turned.
"What now?""
"Rebecca Shaw is at the restaurant.""
I felt my blood run cold.
"Where?""
James pointed toward the entrance.
A woman in a cream-colored coat stood behind the glass doors.
She was holding a black handbag.
Her eyes were fixed directly on me.
Then she slowly lifted her phone.
My phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
One message.
*Danielle, I know you found Marcus's letter. Don't open the second file. If you do, you'll discover what your father did to protect you.*
I looked at my father.
He had read the message over my shoulder.
His face had lost all color.
And for the first time that night, he looked more frightened than anyone else in the restaurant.
Rebecca opened the doors.
She walked inside.
Then she looked directly at my father.
"Richard," she said quietly.
"We need to talk about the night Marcus died.""
My father whispered one word.
"Rebecca...""
She placed her handbag on the table.
Then she added:
"Because Marcus wasn't supposed to be driving that night.""
And Detective Mitchell immediately reached for her hand.
"Ma'am, I need you to step away from the table.""
Rebecca smiled.
"Of course, Detective.""
Then she turned toward me.
"But before you arrest me, Danielle, you deserve to know one thing.""
She paused.
"Your husband called me because he was trying to save your father.""
Her eyes shifted toward Richard.
"And your father was the last person Marcus trusted.""
My father slowly lowered himself into a chair.
I looked at him.
"Is that true?""
He didn't answer.
Rebecca reached into her handbag.
She removed a small photograph.
And placed it in front of me.
It showed Marcus standing beside a black car.
Behind him was my father.
And beside my father was someone I had never expected to see.
My mother.
The woman who had supposedly died when I was twelve.
I stared at the photograph.
My lips parted.
"That's impossible.""
Rebecca looked at me.
"No, Danielle. Your mother is alive.""
The room fell silent.
May you like
Then she said the words that shattered everything I thought I knew.
"She was the person Marcus was trying to find the night he died.""