Chương 13
Richard appeared in the hallway.
"So you're the fiancé."
Jonah looked at him.
"You must be Richard."
There was no warmth in either sentence.
I touched Jonah's arm.
"Basement."
He glanced at me.
"That sentence usually means something bad."
Despite myself, I smiled.
Derek appeared behind Richard.
"You're Jonah?"
"Unfortunately."
Derek almost laughed.
"Good timing."
Richard rubbed his forehead.
"This is absurd."
Mom walked into the hallway.
"Then make it simple."
She held out her hand.
"Give me the office key."
Richard stared at her.
She didn't move.
Finally, he reached into his pocket.
Instead of a key, he pulled out his phone.
"I don't need one."
He walked past us toward the basement door.
We followed.
The basement smelled like cardboard, dust, and the faint dampness of old concrete.
At the bottom of the stairs, a short hallway led past shelves of holiday decorations to a finished office with a keypad beside the door.
Richard entered six digits.
The lock clicked.
Mom noticed the code.
So did Derek.
Richard opened the door.
The room was smaller than I expected.
Desk.
Two filing cabinets.
Printer.
Bookshelf.
A leather chair with a crack across one arm.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing that looked capable of rearranging a family.
The phone sat on the desk.
Its voicemail light blinked red.
Richard moved toward it.
Derek said, "Don't."
His father stopped.
I looked around.
A cardboard box stood open on the floor beside one filing cabinet.
Several hanging folders had already been removed.
My father's last name was visible on one tab.
MORGAN.
My body reacted before my brain did.
I crossed the room.
Richard stepped in front of the box.
"You are not touching those."
"Then you touch them."
"What?"
"Take out the Morgan file and put it on the desk."
He laughed.
"No."
Jonah spoke from behind me.
"Then nobody touches anything and you all leave the room."
Richard turned.
"Excuse me?"
Jonah held up both hands.
"I'm not giving legal advice."
He looked at me.
"But if everybody's already accusing everybody of financial misconduct, maybe stop moving documents around."
That was annoyingly sensible.
I nodded.
"No one touches the box."
Mom walked to the desk.
Richard watched her.
She looked at the blinking voicemail light.
"Whose line is this?"
"Business."
She pressed the display button before he could stop her.
A number appeared.
No name.
Three missed calls.
All from the same number.
Derek pulled out his phone.
"Can I search it?"
Richard snapped, "No."
Derek looked at him.
"Now I definitely want to."
I memorized the last four digits instead.
Mom opened the desk drawer.
Richard moved quickly.
"Linda."
She froze.
There it was again.
Fear.
This time unmistakable.
I looked at the drawer.
Mom did too.
Slowly, she pulled it open.
Inside were envelopes, pens, stamps, two checkbooks, and an old black external hard drive.
Nothing else.
Richard exhaled.
Too soon.
Mom noticed.
Her hand moved to the second drawer.
He caught her wrist.
Everything happened at once.
Derek grabbed his father's arm.
Jonah stepped forward.
I heard myself say, "Let her go."
Richard released Mom immediately.
"Don't touch me again."
Her voice shook.
He backed away.
"This is insane."
Mom opened the second drawer.
A stack of papers sat inside beneath a yellow legal pad.
On top was a photocopy of a document with my father's signature.
I recognized it instantly.
Not because I had seen that exact page before.
Because Dad's signature always leaned hard to the right, the M in Morgan almost collapsing into the next letter.
I moved closer.
The header read MEMBERSHIP INTEREST ASSIGNMENT.
Below it was the name Morgan Design Holdings LLC.
My pulse stumbled.
"What is that?"
Richard said nothing.
Mom lifted the top page without removing it from the drawer.
My name appeared halfway down.
Thea Morgan.
Successor beneficiary.
Derek leaned over my shoulder.
"What company is that?"
I looked at Richard.
He seemed to make a decision.
His shoulders dropped.
"It was Mark's."
"Was?"
"He owned a minority interest in a development entity."
My mind moved backward.
Commercial buildings.
My father's frequent trips.
The money he had set aside.
The life insurance.
"He had a business?"
"A side investment."
Mom looked stunned.
"You told me that was worthless."
Richard didn't answer.
I looked at the document again.
"What happened to it?"
His silence made the room colder.
I pointed at the page.
"What happened to my father's ownership interest?"
Richard looked at me.
"It was transferred."
"To whom?"
He closed his eyes.
Derek whispered, "Dad."
Richard opened them.
"To Riverside."
The name landed like a blow.
I looked at Derek.
Then Mom.
Then back at Richard.
"The project you said lost my hundred thousand."
He nodded once.
My voice sounded distant even to me.
"You didn't just invest money that was supposed to be mine."
"No."
"You used Dad's company interest too."
"It had almost no value then."
"Then why transfer it?"
He said nothing.
I stepped closer.
"Why transfer something worthless?"
Richard's jaw tightened.
"Because it later became useful."
There it was.
The first honest sentence he had given me.
I stared at him.
"How useful?"
He looked away.
Derek picked up his phone.
Richard's head snapped toward him.
"Don't."
Derek stopped.
"Why?"
"Because this isn't what you think."
Derek laughed.
"That phrase should be engraved on your headstone."
Mom sank into the cracked leather chair.
"How much was Mark's interest worth?"
Richard rubbed both hands over his face.
"At the time of transfer, maybe sixty thousand."
"And later?"
He did not answer.
I heard the voicemail system beep behind us.
No one had touched it.
The latest caller had left a message, and the machine began playing automatically through the speaker.
A man's voice filled the room.
"Richard, it's Alan."
Richard lunged for the phone.
Jonah stepped between him and the desk.
The recording continued.
"You need to call me before you move anything else."
Richard stopped.
My heart pounded.
May you like
The voice went on.
"I got your message about the Morgan files."
