Chapter 9 - Richard's Confession
I didn't go alone.
Martinez wouldn't allow it.
Richard sat behind thick glass at the county detention center.
He looked older than he had at my wedding.
"Jason."
"Tell me."
He sighed.
"Your father was stubborn."
"Don't talk about him like you knew him."
"I knew him better than you think."
Richard admitted the financial scheme.
He'd been drowning in debt.
Andrew was easy to manipulate.
When my father discovered them, Richard panicked.
"Did you cut his brakes?"
Richard stared at me.
"No."
I almost stood.
"Then we're finished."
"Andrew did."
I stopped.
Richard claimed Andrew sabotaged the car without telling him.
But the mechanic remembered Richard bringing the vehicle in.
Richard explained he'd borrowed it from Michael earlier.
Convenient.
"Why destroy it?"
"Because I knew Andrew had done something."
"So you covered up murder."
"I covered up evidence."
"You knew."
"I suspected."
"Same difference to my father."
Richard leaned closer.
"There's something else."
Of course there was.
"Your father discovered the brake problem before the crash."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"He called me."
That made no sense.
"If he knew the brakes were failing, why keep driving?"
"He didn't."
Richard explained that my father pulled over near an old service road.
Richard drove out to meet him.
They argued.
Michael threatened to expose everything.
Then Andrew arrived.
The confrontation became physical.
My father walked away toward his car.
Andrew tried to stop him.
Michael shoved him.
Then Richard said the words I'd waited twelve years to hear.
"Andrew pushed your father."
Silence.
"He fell down the embankment."
My throat tightened.
"Was he alive?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"We called an ambulance."
"There's no ambulance record."
Richard looked down.
"Andrew panicked."
"What did you do?"
"We put Michael in his car."
I couldn't breathe.
"We staged the crash."
Richard nodded.
Rage rose through me.
Martinez stepped closer behind me.
I forced myself to remain seated.
"Was my father alive when you put him in that car?"
Richard's eyes filled.
"Yes."
The room disappeared.
"You could've saved him."
"I know."
"You could have called for help."
"I know."
"But you protected yourself."
Richard began crying.
I felt nothing for him.
"What were my father's last words?"
Richard looked at me.
"He said your name."
That nearly broke me.
"He kept saying, 'My son is waiting for me.'"
I stood.
I couldn't hear more.
Outside, Martinez told me Richard's confession had been recorded.
Andrew was dead.
Richard wasn't.
He would face what he'd done.
I walked outside the building.
Emily was waiting across the parking lot.
I hadn't asked her to come.
Ryan had called her.
She saw my face and ran toward me.
I collapsed into her arms.
For twelve years, I'd imagined Dad dying alone in a wreck.
The truth was worse.
But it was finally truth.
And strangely, truth hurt differently from uncertainty.
Pain had edges now.
Names.
Choices.
Consequences.
That night, I returned to my mother's house.
She listened while I told her everything.
Then she opened a drawer.
"I've been waiting for the right time."
She handed me a small cassette recorder.
"Your father recorded messages sometimes when he traveled."
One tape remained inside.
My name was written on it.
JASON — SOMEDAY.
My hands shook.
"Have you listened?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because he made it for you."
I pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then I heard the voice I hadn't heard since I was twelve.
My father's voice.
May you like
"Hey, buddy. If you're hearing this someday when you're older, there's something I hope you learned before you ever needed this message…"
And suddenly my father was speaking to me again.
