Chapter 11 - INSIDE THE HOUSE
Daniel shouted, “Call the police.”
I was already moving.
“Ellie, stay here.”
“That is my house.”
“And someone who forged your identity may be inside it.”
That stopped me.
For once, I listened.
We went outside through the front door.
Police arrived within minutes.
The side gate was open.
A basement window was unlocked.
One officer entered through the kitchen.
Another covered the back.
Matthew stood beside me on the porch, shaking.
“What would she want?”
I knew.
“The flash drive.”
His head turned.
“What flash drive?”
“Your father’s.”
I watched his expression.
He genuinely didn’t know.
Two officers came back out.
“No one inside.”
“Check the study.”
“Already clear.”
I ran in despite Daniel calling after me.
The study door was open.
The drawer beside George’s desk had been pulled out.
The fireproof box sat on the floor.
Open.
My stomach dropped.
The flash drive was gone.
“No.”
I searched the desk.
Nothing.
“She took it.”
Matthew stepped inside.
“What was on it?”
“Records.”
“What records?”
“Your father’s loans to you.”
His face fell.
“Oh.”
“And Victor Shaw.”
His eyes widened.
“What about Victor?”
“Your father paid him thirty-five thousand dollars seven years ago.”
Matthew sat down.
“He kept that?”
“He kept everything.”
I looked around the room.
Jessica had known exactly where to search.
Then I noticed the printer.
A single sheet of paper sat in the output tray.
I picked it up.
It was an email.
Printed that morning.
From Jessica to Raymond.
Dad,
Matthew is losing his nerve. Eleanor found more than expected. I need the old records gone before Brooks connects Victor to you.
My hands shook.
There was more.
The deed did not record, but we may still be able to use the insurance if she signs the revised consent.
Matthew doesn’t know the full amount. Keep it that way.
I looked up.
Matthew had read over my shoulder.
His face collapsed.
“My wife…”
I turned the page.
One final sentence.
If Matthew finds out what we did with George, we’re finished.
The room went silent.
I read it again.
With George.
“What does that mean?” Matthew whispered.
I didn’t know.
For four years, I had believed George’s death was simple.
Cancer.
Long treatment.
Final months at home.
No mystery.
No question.
So what could Jessica possibly have done “with George”?
I called Louise.
“Do you remember Jessica being involved in George’s finances?”
“No.”
“His paperwork?”
“Not that I know.”
Matthew suddenly stood.
“She visited Dad.”
I turned.
“What?”
“Near the end.”
“When?”
“When you went to the pharmacy. Sometimes when Aunt Louise took you to appointments.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“I thought she was being nice.”
“How often?”
“A few times.”
I had never known.
Daniel took the printed email.
“This needs to go to police immediately.”
“What could she have done?”
“I don’t know.”
The officer nearby said, “Don’t assume the worst until we know what this means.”
He was right.
But fear does not wait for facts.
I thought about George.
His medication.
His signature.
His trust.
His private notes.
Then I remembered something.
Three weeks before he died, George had become furious after receiving a bank statement.
At the time, he blamed medication.
I never asked why.
I went to the cabinet where I kept old financial files.
One folder was missing.
George’s final bank statements.
Matthew saw the empty space.
“What was there?”
I looked at him.
May you like
“Your father’s money.”
And suddenly the house was not the oldest crime we needed to investigate.
