Chapter 6 - UNIT 214
Police reached the storage facility before the manager opened the unit.
Wade Mercer had called, claiming he had lost the key.
He said he was collecting property for Ruth Sloane.
The manager had asked for identification and written authorization.
Wade had promised to return.
He never did.
By afternoon, detectives had obtained permission through the estate’s attorney and the necessary legal process to open the unit.
Daniel waited outside the row of metal doors.
He could smell hot asphalt and the bitter coffee cooling in his hand.
Bell emerged carrying a cardboard file box.
“There’s furniture. Business records. Some personal things.”
“Did you find the box Noah mentioned?”
“Yes.”
She showed him a photograph.
A small steel cash box sat on an old worktable.
The brass key fit it.
Inside were bank statements, handwritten notes, and a sealed envelope.
His name was on the front.
Bell handed him a copy of the letter after it was documented.
Daniel recognized his father’s blunt opening.
Son, if Ruth gives you this herself, I owe her an apology.
A laugh broke out of him.
It hurt.
He kept reading.
Thomas had discovered unexplained transfers from his accounts.
When he questioned Ruth, she called them administrative expenses.
When he asked Vivian, she told him he was getting confused.
He began keeping copies elsewhere.
He had hidden the storage key behind the photograph because Vivian checked his desk.
I don’t know how much is missing yet.
I know I didn’t approve it.
And I know you didn’t borrow it, no matter what she says.
Daniel lowered the page.
“What does that mean?”
Bell took out another copy.
Transfers totaling hundreds of thousands of dollars had been recorded as loans to Daniel.
He had never received a cent.
His father had apparently believed, for a time, that Daniel was secretly in financial trouble.
That was why their last conversations had felt strained.
Why Thomas had asked twice whether Daniel needed help.
Daniel had brushed him off.
He had thought his father was criticizing him.
Near the bottom, the handwriting grew less steady.
I should have asked you directly.
I was embarrassed that I might have raised a son who couldn’t tell me the truth.
Now I’m embarrassed that I believed someone else before I believed you.
Daniel covered his mouth.
Bell waited.
There was one final line.
If anything happens before we talk, ask Evelyn Price about the Tuesday account.
Daniel looked up.
“Who’s Evelyn Price?”
Bell checked a note on her phone.
“Your father’s former bookkeeper.”
“Can we talk to her?”
“She’s already called us.”
“When?”
“An hour ago.”
May you like
Bell hesitated.
“She said your sister warned her not to.”
