Chapter 5 - EMILY’S LETTERI waited until Lily was asleep before I read Emily’s letter.
Detective Chen had arranged for us to stay in a secure hotel under police supervision.
Dad was in the next room with a nurse.
Two officers were stationed downstairs.
For the first time since coming home from Denver, I was physically separated from the house where my wife died.
I sat on the edge of a hotel bed with Emily’s letter displayed on a secure tablet sent by Sarah Mitchell.
The original had been taken into evidence.
Her handwriting appeared on the screen.
Nathan,
If you’re reading this because everything went wrong, I’m sorry.
I stopped.
I stared at those words until they blurred.
Then I forced myself to continue.
She told me everything.
Or almost everything.
Six weeks earlier, Emily had received a notice from a financial institution concerning an account she thought had been closed after her father’s death.
The account showed a loan secured against assets she supposedly controlled.
She had never authorized it.
When she contacted the bank, she learned that paperwork containing her electronic signature had been submitted by Mercer Wealth Strategies.
Derek’s firm.
Emily confronted him privately.
At first he claimed it was an accounting error.
Then he admitted using her assets temporarily to cover a client shortfall.
Emily demanded proof.
Instead, Derek begged.
Their mother intervened.
Margaret knew far more than she initially admitted.
She had helped Derek access estate documents after Thomas’s death.
Emily began investigating.
She found transfers tied not just to her inheritance but to elderly clients, dead clients, trusts, and dormant accounts.
Millions of dollars.
Some losses had been concealed for years.
Some funds covered gambling debts.
Others financed Derek’s lifestyle.
Cars.
Vacations.
A lake house he claimed belonged to a business partner.
Emily wrote:
I kept asking myself whether turning him in meant destroying Mom too.
That line broke me.
Even while uncovering a crime against herself, Emily had been trying to protect the woman who would later lock her in a basement.
She continued.
I know you’ll be angry that I didn’t tell you sooner. You’ll deserve to be. But I know you, Nathan. You would have confronted Derek immediately, and I needed documents first. I needed something he couldn’t explain away.
She was right.
I would have driven to his office.
I would have demanded answers.
And maybe she had saved my life by not telling me.
The letter ended with something I read five times.
If I’m wrong about Derek, burn this letter and tease me forever.
If I’m right, please don’t let anger take Lily’s father away too.
Promise me you’ll stay.
I put the tablet down.
Then I cried.
Not politely.
Not quietly.
The kind of crying that leaves you exhausted and embarrassed even when nobody sees it.
There were so many things I wanted to tell her.
That I wasn’t angry.
That I was furious.
That I forgave her.
That she should have trusted me.
That I understood why she didn’t.
That I would trade every answer we had found for five more minutes with her.
A knock came at the connecting door.
Dad.
His nurse pushed his wheelchair inside.
He took one look at me and knew.
I handed him the tablet.
He read slowly.
At the end, he covered his eyes.
I sat beside him.
“She knew.”
Dad nodded.
“She knew something could happen.”
Another nod.
“Did she tell you?”
He shook his head.
“Then how did you know to hide the USB?”
He tapped the tablet.
Then pointed to himself.
Me.
Then mimed a camera.
Emily had asked him to help with the camera.
He spelled on his board:
S-H-E.
S-A-I-D.
D-E-R-E-K.
M-I-G-H-T.
C-O-M-E.
“Why didn’t you tell me when I got home?”
Tears appeared in his eyes.
He pointed toward his mouth.
Then toward Margaret.
Then made a telephone gesture.
He couldn’t communicate fast enough.
And Margaret had rarely left the house after Emily’s death.
She had stayed close.
Organized meals.
Called funeral homes.
Helped dress Lily.
Slept in our guest room.
At the time, I had thought she was helping me.
Now I understood.
She had been watching Dad.
Watching Lily.
Watching for anything Emily might have left behind.
My phone rang at 1:12 a.m.
Chen.
“We arrested Margaret.”
I sat upright.
“On what charge?”
“Initially obstruction and evidence tampering. More may follow.”
“What about Derek?”
Silence.
My stomach dropped.
“What happened?”
“He’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“His attorney tried to contact him after Margaret began giving a formal statement. He wasn’t at the station anymore because we didn’t yet have probable cause to hold him on homicide.”
“You let him leave?”
“We legally had to.”
“And now?”
“His car was found at the airport.”
“Did he get on a plane?”
“No record under his name.”
“Then where is he?”
“We’re looking.”
I got up and paced.
“Lily.”
“You have officers with you.”
“If Derek thinks she saw something—”
“Nathan, listen to me. Do not leave that hotel.”
Then Dad started making a noise.
“Ah. Ah.”
He pointed toward the bedside table.
My wallet.
“What?”
He pointed again.
Wallet.
Then Lily’s backpack sitting near the door.
Then my phone.
I didn’t understand.
Dad’s frustration grew.
He spelled:
T-R-A-C-K.
“Track?”
Then:
D-O-L-L.
I froze.
Lily’s doll.
The one she had carried from the funeral.
Emily had sewn it.
“What about the doll?”
Dad pointed toward my phone.
Track.
Doll.
I picked up Lily’s backpack.
The doll was inside.
Purple dress.
Orange yarn hair.
One button eye slightly crooked because Emily had replaced it after our old dog chewed it.
I turned it over.
There was a small zipper in the back.
I opened it.
Stuffing.
And something hard.
I pulled out a tiny plastic device.
An AirTag.
My blood ran cold.
“I didn’t put this there.”
Dad shook his head.
“Emily?”
No.
I called Chen.
“Someone put a tracker in Lily’s doll.”
Silence.
Then: “Do not touch anything else.”
Too late.
I looked at the tracker in my hand.
“How long has it been there?”
“We can’t know yet.”
Then a hotel fire alarm started screaming.
Dad jerked.
Red lights flashed.
I heard doors opening in the hallway.
People shouting.
A hotel employee yelled, “Evacuate!”
Chen’s voice blasted from my phone.
“Nathan, stay in the room until the officers reach you!”
Smoke seeped beneath the door.
Real smoke.
Not a drill.
The connecting door to Lily’s room opened.
Her officer appeared.
“Stairwell. Now.”
I lifted Lily from bed.
She woke crying.
Dad’s nurse pushed his chair.
We entered the hall.
Guests moved toward the emergency stairs.
The lights flickered.
Then went out.
Emergency illumination glowed red.
We reached the stairwell.
One officer went first.
I carried Lily.
Dad followed.
Two floors down, somebody screamed.
Then a man in a hotel uniform stepped from the landing.
He held a pistol.
The officer ahead of us shouted.
“Gun!”
Everything exploded into movement.
I pressed Lily against the concrete wall.
The officer fired.
The armed man ran downward.
Another shot cracked.
Guests screamed above us.
Then I looked at Lily.
Her backpack was gone.
It had been over my shoulder.
The strap had been cut.
And whoever had taken it had taken Emily’s doll with it.
The tracker hadn’t been placed there to follow Lily.
Someone believed something was hidden inside that doll.
And they had just risked a gunfight to steal it.
Dad stared at me.
Then slowly pointed toward Lily.
She was clutching something in her fist.
A small metal key.
“Mommy gave it to me,” she whispered.
“When?”
“The day Uncle Derek came.”
My heart stopped.
“What did she say?”
May you like
Lily opened her hand.
“She said never give it to Grandma.”
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