Chapter 3 - Nathan Comes Home
Nathan arrived at the mansion shortly after midnight.
He had not changed clothes.
His tie was gone, his shirt wrinkled, and his face looked ten years older than it had two days earlier.
Dorothy waited in the foyer.
Hailey was upstairs asleep in Dorothy’s room because she refused to enter her own.
Nathan dropped his travel bag.
“Where is she?”
“Sleeping.”
He took one step toward the stairs.
Dorothy blocked him.
Nathan stared at her.
“Mom.”
“She’s frightened.”
“I’m her father.”
“I know.”
“Then move.”
Dorothy did not.
“She thinks you told Monica to send her away.”
Pain crossed his face.
“I need to tell her I didn’t.”
“You will.”
“When?”
“When she wakes up and wants to see you.”
Nathan looked at his mother as if she had struck him.
“You’re keeping my daughter from me?”
“No.”
Dorothy’s voice softened.
“I’m refusing to force her into another situation she cannot control.”
Nathan looked toward the stairs.
His anger disappeared.
He sat heavily on the bottom step.
“What happened?”
Dorothy told him.
Everything she had seen.
The trunk.
The restraints.
The slap.
The suitcases.
The cash.
The phone.
Then the blue security key.
Nathan looked up sharply.
“What?”
“The police found it in Monica’s purse.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because it was in my desk safe.”
Dorothy said nothing.
Nathan stood.
He crossed the foyer quickly and entered his office.
Dorothy followed.
Nathan opened a framed painting beside the bookshelves, revealing a wall safe.
He entered the code.
The door swung open.
He searched inside.
“Where is it?”
He removed folders.
A passport.
Property records.
A small jewelry box.
Then he stopped.
“The key is gone.”
Dorothy leaned against the desk.
“What does it access?”
“My business accounts. Some personal accounts.”
“And Hailey’s trust?”
Nathan went still.
Dorothy knew the answer.
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
Nathan looked at her.
“What statement did you get?”
Dorothy took the folded copy from her purse.
She had brought it from home when she came to the mansion that morning.
Nathan stared at the heading.
It was an annual summary for a trust created after Hailey’s mother died three years earlier.
The trust held life-insurance proceeds, investments, and money Hailey’s maternal grandparents had left her.
Nathan was trustee.
The balance should have been approximately $2.4 million.
Dorothy pointed to three transactions.
NORTHSTAR FAMILY SERVICES.
$16,800.
$14,200.
$18,750.
Nathan frowned.
“What is this?”
“You tell me.”
“I’ve never heard of Northstar.”
Dorothy watched him carefully.
“You approved these.”
“No.”
“Your name is beside them.”
“I did not approve them.”
He reached for his laptop.
“Mom, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I called you four times.”
Nathan shook his head.
“I have no missed calls.”
“I left messages.”
“I didn’t get them.”
“I emailed the statement.”
“Where?”
“Your personal account.”
Nathan opened his email.
He searched her address.
Nothing.
“Send it again.”
Dorothy did.
The email appeared instantly.
Nathan stared at the screen.
Then he opened his settings.
A forwarding rule had been created.
Any email containing Dorothy’s address was automatically moved into a hidden archive folder.
Nathan stopped breathing.
He opened it.
Dozens of messages appeared.
Dorothy’s messages.
School notices.
A pediatric billing reminder.
Two messages from Hailey’s teacher.
Nathan’s face drained of color.
“I didn’t do this.”
Dorothy sat down.
“When did Monica start managing your calendar?”
He looked at her.
“Last year.”
“Your email?”
“She helped when I was traveling.”
“Your household bills?”
“Yes.”
“Hailey’s school pickups?”
“Yes.”
“With the trust paperwork?”
Nathan shook his head immediately.
“No. Never.”
Dorothy pointed toward the safe.
“But she knew where your key was.”
Nathan looked down.
For two years he had defended Monica with the same phrase.
She’s helping.
She’s making life easier.
She understands how hard things have been.
After his first wife died, Nathan had been exhausted.
Hailey had been five.
He had been forty-one and trying to run a company while grieving and raising a child who woke every night asking why her mother was never coming home.
Monica had arrived like certainty.
She organized.
Scheduled.
Remembered.
She made decisions before Nathan realized decisions were needed.
At first, it had felt like rescue.
Now Nathan stared at the hidden archive folder and understood another possibility.
Control often looked useful to the person surrendering it.
His phone rang.
Detective Ortiz.
Nathan answered.
“Yes?”
“We obtained a warrant for the second phone based on evidence recovered from the vehicle and statements taken at the scene.”
Nathan put the call on speaker.
“We’re still processing it, but we found something you need to know.”
“What?”
“A draft text message addressed to you.”
Nathan’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“What did it say?”
Ortiz hesitated.
Then read it.
“Hailey ran away after another argument. I’ve searched everywhere. Please don’t panic. I’m calling the police.”
Nathan stared at Dorothy.
Ortiz continued.
“The message was created this afternoon.”
“What time?”
“Thirty-seven minutes before your mother called 911.”
Nathan slowly sat down.
There had never been a trip.
There had never been a family misunderstanding.
Monica had planned to remove Hailey.
Then tell Nathan she disappeared.
Nathan whispered, “Why?”
Ortiz replied carefully.
“We don’t know yet.”
Dorothy looked at the security key missing from the safe.
“I think we’re getting closer.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.
Both of them looked toward the doorway.
Hailey stood there.
Barefoot.
Holding the railing.
Nathan rose immediately.
“Hailey.”
She flinched.
It was small.
But Nathan saw it.
His face broke.
He stopped walking.
Hailey looked at him for a long time.
“Did you tell her to get rid of me?”
Nathan could barely answer.
“No.”
Hailey’s chin trembled.
“She said you did.”
“I never said that.”
“She said you wished it was just you and her.”
Nathan took one cautious step forward.
“No.”
Hailey backed up.
Nathan stopped.
Dorothy felt tears burn her eyes.
Hailey whispered, “I heard her tell somebody I knew too much.”
Nathan stared.
“What did you know?”
Hailey looked toward his office.
Then toward the open safe.
Her eyes settled on the empty place where the security key had been.
“She used the blue thing.”
Nathan froze.
“When?”
Hailey swallowed.
“A lot.”
May you like
And for the first time, Nathan realized his daughter had not merely been in Monica’s way.
She had been a witness.
