Chapter 4 - THE BROTHER ETHAN ERASEDDiane refused to believe it.
Not at first.
She paced Daniel’s conference room with her hands pressed against her temples.
“No. Ethan was twenty-one. He and Caleb fought, yes, but brothers fight.”
Nobody interrupted her.
“Caleb worshipped him,” she continued. “Ethan taught him to drive. Ethan took him camping. When Caleb died, Ethan couldn’t eat for weeks.”
She looked at me.
“He carried Caleb’s casket.”
I understood what she was doing because I had spent the previous six hours doing the same thing.
Searching backward for proof that the person I loved could not possibly be the person the evidence described.
Memory becomes a defense attorney when reality is unbearable.
Daniel finally spoke.
“We don’t know that Lauren’s statement is true.”
Diane grabbed onto that.
“Exactly.”
“But we should find her.”
We drove to the address Lauren had sent.
It was a duplex in a working-class neighborhood twenty minutes outside Columbus.
The front door was open.
Daniel called the police before we went inside.
Lauren wasn’t there.
Her phone was on the kitchen floor with the screen cracked.
A chair had been overturned.
There was blood on the corner of the counter.
Not much.
Enough.
Police arrived within minutes.
The detective who took charge was a woman named Maria Torres, sharp-eyed and patient.
She separated us and heard our stories individually.
When I mentioned the flash drive, Daniel immediately intervened.
“We’ll provide a forensic copy through proper channels.”
Detective Torres nodded.
“Do not alter anything.”
“We haven’t.”
By sunrise, Lauren was officially considered a missing person.
Ethan called me seventeen times.
I ignored every call.
At 7:43 a.m., he sent a message.
You are putting everyone in danger because you don’t understand what you found.
I showed it to Torres.
She photographed my screen.
“Don’t respond.”
At 8:12, another message arrived.
Marcus has Lauren.
That changed everything.
Torres had me call Ethan while police recorded.
He answered immediately.
“Rachel.”
“Where is Lauren?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said Marcus has her.”
“I said he probably does.”
“No. You said he has her.”
Silence.
Then Ethan sighed.
“You need to come home.”
“Why?”
“Because we can fix this.”
“Did you forge my signature?”
Another silence.
“Rachel—”
“Did you?”
“I was trying to protect our future.”
“Our future?”
“Hawthorne is dying.”
It wasn’t.
The company had posted its highest revenue in three years.
“You were going to steal my father’s company.”
“I was going to save it.”
“For Marcus?”
“For us.”
“You were sleeping with Lauren.”
“That was a mistake.”
Eight months.
A mistake.
“Did you marry me for Hawthorne?”
His answer came too slowly.
“Of course not.”
That pause hurt more than the lie.
I asked the question Diane couldn’t.
“Did you kill Caleb?”
The line went silent.
Completely silent.
Then Ethan whispered, “Who told you that?”
Diane’s hand flew to her mouth.
Torres leaned closer to the recording equipment.
I said, “Answer me.”
“Lauren is manipulating you.”
“You didn’t say no.”
“Rachel.”
“You didn’t say no.”
His voice changed.
The polished calm disappeared.
“Give me the drive.”
“No.”
“You have no idea what is on it.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t over the phone.”
“You can explain one thing. Did you cut Caleb’s brakes?”
Another pause.
Then:
“Caleb was going to destroy all of us.”
Diane made a sound like something inside her had torn.
Ethan heard it.
“Is Mom there?”
I ended the call.
For several seconds, Diane didn’t move.
Then she sat down.
“My son killed my son.”
Torres said carefully, “We don’t yet know exactly what happened.”
Diane looked at her.
“You heard him.”
“Yes. And I also know admissions become complicated. Let us investigate.”
By noon, officers had obtained an emergency warrant for Ethan’s home office.
My home.
I did not go with them.
I couldn’t.
I went with Diane to her house instead.
For ten years, I had been there for holidays, birthdays, Sunday dinners.
I had never noticed the locked door at the far end of the upstairs hallway.
Diane opened it.
Caleb’s room.
She had preserved it.
Baseball trophies.
College acceptance letters.
A faded concert poster.
A photograph of two teenage boys at a lake.
Ethan and Caleb.
Ethan had his arm around his younger brother’s neck.
Both were laughing.
“He made me pack everything away after you two got engaged,” Diane said. “He told me you would think it was strange that I kept Caleb’s things.”
“He told me he was an only child.”
“I know.”
“Why did you let him?”
Shame crossed her face.
“Because grief made Ethan furious. Any time I mentioned Caleb, he would disappear for weeks. Eventually I chose the son I still had.”
She sat on Caleb’s bed.
“I think I have been choosing silence ever since.”
I sat beside her.
Neither of us cried.
We were past tears.
After a while, Diane reached beneath the bed and pulled out a wooden box.
“Robert gave me this after Caleb died. I never opened it.”
“Why not?”
“He said it contained things I wasn’t ready to know.”
She gave a bitter laugh.
“Apparently he was right.”
Inside were photographs, letters, and a small cassette tape.
Daniel found an old player in the downstairs closet.
The tape was dated three days before Caleb’s death.
Caleb’s voice came first.
Young.
Nervous.
“Dad, you need to listen without interrupting.”
Robert replied, “I’m listening.”
“I found transfers from the company.”
“We know about the missing money.”
“No. These are different. Ethan’s involved.”
Diane squeezed my hand.
Caleb continued.
“Marcus has been paying him. Ethan is moving internal documents, bids, loan information. He says Dad deserves it.”
Robert cursed.
Then Caleb said something worse.
“Lauren helped me find it.”
“Marcus’s daughter?”
“She hates what he’s doing.”
Robert asked, “Does Ethan know you have this?”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
The recording stopped.
That was all.
I stared at the cassette player.
“Did Ethan know?”
Diane looked sick.
“He knew Caleb had evidence.”
My phone rang.
Detective Torres.
“We found something in your husband’s office.”
“What?”
“A second phone.”
I stood.
“What was on it?”
“Messages with Marcus Vale.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“And?”
“Your husband was ordered to retrieve that flash drive at any cost.”
“At any cost?”
“There’s more.”
Her voice became colder.
“Three days ago Marcus told Ethan that once the trust transfer was complete, you were to be placed in a private treatment facility.”
I could barely speak.
“For what?”
“According to the messages? Emotional instability and suicidal ideation.”
I stared at the wall.
“I’m not suicidal.”
“We know.”
A chill crawled across my skin.
They weren’t merely going to steal my company.
They were going to make me disappear.
Torres continued.
“There’s a reservation under your name at a facility in Vermont.”
Diane stood.
“For when?”
I asked.
Torres answered.
“Tomorrow.”
Before I could process that, someone knocked downstairs.
Three slow knocks.
Diane and I froze.
Daniel looked through the window.
His expression changed.
“Police?”
“No.”
“Ethan?”
“No.”
He turned toward us.
“It’s Lauren.”
Diane rushed downstairs.
When we opened the door, Lauren collapsed into my arms.
Her forehead was bleeding.
May you like
Her wrists were bruised.
And she was holding a gun.
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