Chapter 15 - Daniel Cole Comes Home
Ethan met his father in a federal interview room.
No dramatic music.
No mansion doors.
Just a gray table and two chairs.
Daniel Cole looked like Ethan twenty-five years later.
Same eyes.
Same way of pressing his lips together before speaking.
Ethan sat down.
For almost a minute, neither man said anything.
Then Ethan asked:
"Did you kill Linda Parker?"
Daniel closed his eyes.
"No."
"Why were you at her house?"
"Because she called me."
Everyone had been called that night.
My mother had been building a meeting.
She wanted all of them in one place.
Daniel.
Margaret.
Victor.
Martin.
She planned to force the truth into daylight.
"Who took the photo?" I asked.
Daniel looked at me.
"Gideon."
My skin crawled.
"Gideon was there?"
"Outside."
"Then how is he reflected in the mirror?"
Daniel shook his head.
"That isn't Gideon."
Ethan zoomed in again.
Daniel pointed.
"That's Charles."
Margaret's brother.
Everything twisted again.
Charles had been upstairs.
Daniel explained.
"Linda accused Charles of moving trial money through Grayline. He panicked."
"Did he push her?" I asked.
Daniel's eyes filled.
"He grabbed her."
"That's not what I asked."
"He grabbed her wrist. She pulled away."
My chest tightened.
"Then?"
"She lost her balance."
Silence.
There it was.
Not planned murder.
Not an assassin.
A burst of fear and anger.
One hand.
One step.
One life ended.
"Why did everyone lie?" Ethan whispered.
Daniel looked at his son.
"Because Charles said if the police came, everything would come out. The trials. Rachel. The money. All of it."
I stared at Victor.
"You agreed?"
Victor looked destroyed.
"For five minutes."
"What does that mean?"
"It means for five minutes I let them talk me into waiting until morning."
"And by morning?"
"Charles had cleaned the house. Martin had arranged the report. Daniel had disappeared again."
I looked at Margaret.
She cried silently.
"I wanted to call."
"But you didn't."
"No."
Daniel spoke.
"Linda was still alive when the ambulance came."
I turned to him.
"What?"
"She was conscious."
Margaret covered her mouth.
Daniel continued.
"She said one thing."
My entire body went cold.
"What?"
Daniel looked at me.
"She said, 'Tell Claire the key is not for a door.'"
I stared.
The stolen brass key.
The one Charles took from our townhouse.
Not for a door.
Then what?
Daniel reached into his pocket.
Federal agents had already searched him, so the gesture startled no one.
He placed an old photograph on the table.
My mother beside a safe-deposit box.
Number 417.
Daniel said:
"The key opens a box at Commonwealth Federal Bank."
Ethan stood.
"We go now."
Victor shook his head.
"Bank doesn't open until eight."
Daniel looked at the clock.
6:14 a.m.
Then his face changed.
"No."
"What?"
"Charles knows."
My stomach dropped.
Daniel grabbed the table.
"He knows what the key opens."
An agent checked his phone.
Then cursed.
"What?"
May you like
"Commonwealth Federal's alarm just triggered."
Someone was already inside.
