Chapter 4 - The Night His Father Died
Richard Bennett died on a Sunday morning in October.
At least, that was what I had always believed.
James received the call at 6:12 a.m.
His father’s housekeeper had found him in bed.
Heart attack.
Natural causes.
The funeral was held four days later.
James barely spoke for a week.
Nothing about the event had ever seemed mysterious.
Until Rebecca’s letter.
Ask James what happened the night his father died.
I found him outside Rebecca’s ICU room.
His back was against the wall.
“What happened?”
I asked.
He shook his head.
“They’re stabilizing her.”
“No. I mean your father.”
James looked at me.
Every muscle in his face changed.
I held up the letter.
“Rebecca wrote this.”
He read it.
Then closed his eyes.
That reaction was answer enough.
“What happened the night Richard died?”
“This is not the place.”
“I have spent half my life hearing that sentence today.”
“Claire.”
“Tell me.”
James glanced through the glass toward Rebecca.
Then he lowered his voice.
“My father didn’t die Sunday morning.”
My stomach turned.
“What?”
“He died sometime Saturday night.”
“That isn’t what you told me.”
“I know.”
“Were you there?”
James nodded.
I stepped backward.
“You were?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t I know?”
“Because I left before he died.”
“What happened?”
James sat down heavily.
I remained standing.
“Rebecca had contacted him.”
“When?”
“A week before.”
“Why?”
“She had finally decided to claim the trust.”
“But you said she didn’t want the money.”
“She didn’t want it for herself.”
“For what?”
“Her adoptive mother needed long-term care.”
That made sense.
“She called Richard directly. She told him she knew about the trust and planned to claim her share.”
“And he got angry.”
“Furious.”
James looked at his hands.
“He called me Saturday afternoon and demanded I come over.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted me to convince Rebecca not to file anything.”
“Because he was ashamed?”
“Because filing would create a legal record.”
“Proving she existed.”
“Yes.”
I felt disgust rise inside me.
“Even at the end.”
“Even then.”
“What happened when you refused?”
“We argued.”
“How badly?”
James looked up.
“Badly enough that I left.”
My heartbeat quickened.
“Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did you threaten him?”
His eyes hardened.
“I told him I was done protecting his reputation.”
“That’s not a threat.”
“I also told him that if he tried to interfere with Rebecca again, I’d expose everything.”
“Everything meaning Rebecca?”
“And some financial misconduct in the firm.”
I stared.
“What misconduct?”
“He had hidden money in accounts connected to the trust.”
“Was that illegal?”
“Potentially.”
“So Daniel knows this?”
James frowned.
“I don’t know.”
“Rebecca says he came back because of something other than money.”
“He may be lying to her.”
“Or you may still be hiding things.”
That landed.
James looked wounded.
Good, I thought.
Then immediately hated myself for thinking it.
“I left my father’s house around ten-thirty,” he said.
“What time did he die?”
“Coroner estimated between midnight and three.”
“So you weren’t there.”
“No.”
“Then what are you hiding?”
James looked toward the ICU room again.
“When I left, someone was parked across the street.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t know then.”
“And now?”
“Daniel.”
Cold moved through me.
“You saw him outside Richard’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t find out until months later.”
“How?”
“Rebecca told me Daniel had been asking questions about her biological family.”
“When were they dating?”
“About two years ago.”
I understood.
“Right before Richard died.”
“Yes.”
“And Daniel went to his house.”
“I believe so.”
“Did you tell police?”
“There was no investigation. Richard had severe heart disease.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t know it was Daniel until after the funeral.”
“And when you found out?”
“Rebecca begged me not to involve him.”
“Why?”
“She loved him.”
I stared through the glass at Rebecca.
“She protected him.”
“Yes.”
“Even if he might have been involved in Richard’s death?”
“We had no proof.”
“What did Daniel say?”
“He claimed he went there to confront Richard about Rebecca.”
“And?”
“He says Richard was alive when he left.”
I pressed my fingers against my temples.
“Why would Rebecca tell me to ask now?”
James looked grim.
“Because something changed.”
A doctor emerged.
We stood immediately.
“She’s stable.”
Both of us exhaled.
“But she needs rest. One visitor for two minutes.”
James looked at me.
“You go.”
I entered Rebecca’s room.
Her eyes opened slowly.
I sat beside her.
“I read your letter.”
She gave the smallest nod.
“Daniel was at Richard’s house.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you say he didn’t come back because of the money?”
Rebecca’s eyes moved toward the door.
“Because he came back for proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That Richard had hidden documents.”
“What documents?”
Rebecca swallowed.
“Letters.”
“What letters?”
“My mother’s.”
“Your biological mother?”
“Yes.”
“Why are they important?”
Rebecca’s voice became faint.
“They prove Richard lied.”
“About you?”
“About more than me.”
I leaned closer.
“What else?”
She closed her eyes.
For a moment I thought she had fallen asleep.
Then she whispered, “James wasn’t his only son.”
I froze.
“What?”
Rebecca’s eyes opened.
“Richard had another child.”
“Another?”
“A boy.”
“Where is he?”
Rebecca stared directly at me.
“You’ve already met him.”
A chill ran through me.
“No.”
She nodded.
I knew before she said the name.
“Daniel.”
The room disappeared.
I gripped the chair.
“Daniel is Richard’s son?”
“Yes.”
“That would make him…”
“My half brother.”
“And James’s.”
“Yes.”
My mind raced.
Daniel Mercer.
Rebecca’s former boyfriend.
Grace’s father.
“No.”
Rebecca immediately understood what I was thinking.
“He didn’t know.”
“When you were together?”
“No.”
My stomach turned anyway.
“When did you find out?”
“After I got pregnant.”
“How?”
“Richard’s letters.”
“And Daniel?”
“I told him.”
“Is that why he left?”
She nodded.
Suddenly the story changed.
Daniel hadn’t simply abandoned a pregnant girlfriend.
He had learned she was his biological half sister.
I stood and walked toward the window, fighting nausea.
“The baby.”
Rebecca started crying silently.
“Grace is healthy.”
“That isn’t what I mean.”
“I know.”
“How could this happen?”
“We didn’t know.”
I turned.
“And James?”
“James knows Daniel may be Richard’s son.”
“May be?”
“The letters strongly suggest it. No DNA test has confirmed it.”
“Does Daniel want the baby because…”
“He wants answers.”
“And the inheritance.”
Rebecca looked away.
“Maybe.”
“You said he came back for proof.”
“He believes Richard deliberately kept us apart while knowing exactly who we were.”
I thought of Richard.
His obsession with reputation.
His secrets.
His control.
It was horribly believable.
“Why keep Daniel secret too?”
“His mother was married to someone else.”
“So Richard had at least two children outside his marriage.”
“Yes.”
“And those children grew up, met each other, fell in love, and he said nothing.”
Rebecca’s tears fell faster.
“He knew.”
The words were almost inaudible.
“He knew about us before he died.”
My skin went cold.
“How?”
“Daniel visited him.”
“That Saturday night.”
“Yes.”
“And told him you were pregnant?”
“Yes.”
I stared at her.
“What did Richard say?”
Rebecca’s face twisted.
“He told Daniel to disappear.”
I felt sick.
“Why?”
“To protect the Bennett name.”
“And Daniel left.”
“Because he thought leaving was the least destructive thing he could do.”
“Then why come back now?”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“Because Grace was born.”
“That still doesn’t explain it.”
“No.”
“What does?”
She looked at me.
“Daniel received a package three weeks ago.”
“From whom?”
“Richard.”
“Richard has been dead two years.”
“It was arranged before his death.”
“What was inside?”
“A letter and a key.”
“To what?”
“A safe-deposit box.”
I leaned closer.
“What is inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does Daniel?”
“No.”
“Then why hasn’t he opened it?”
“Because the bank requires two keys.”
I stared.
“And the second one?”
Rebecca looked toward the ceiling.
“Richard gave it to James.”
My blood ran cold.
“Does James know?”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
Rebecca whispered the answer.
“In the box of newborn clothes in your garage.”
And suddenly every strange detail from the past eleven years pointed toward the same place.
The box James refused to throw away.
The letter to a daughter we never had.
May you like
The hidden key.
And whatever Richard Bennett had locked away before he died.
