Chapter 9 - The Plane Without a Passenger List
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and rain-soaked clothes.
A doctor confirmed I had a mild concussion, bruised ribs, and a torn ligament in my knee. No fractures. I should have felt lucky.
I didn’t.
Detective Ortiz took my statement from a chair beside the bed while Nathan sat outside under police watch.
Richard and Victoria had been separated for questioning.
Neither was under arrest yet.
That made me furious.
Ortiz explained why. “The audio is strong evidence, but we still need to establish who pushed you, who intended what, and who altered the file. If we move too early, lawyers turn everything into a procedural fight.”
“They admitted forging my signature.”
“On an audio file their attorneys will attack.”
“So what do we do?”
“We build something they can’t explain away.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Ortiz nodded for me to answer on speaker.
I did.
For two seconds, only engine noise.
Then Evan’s voice.
“Emma.”
My throat closed.
“Where are you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You tried to kill me.”
“No. I tried to keep them from doing something worse.”
I laughed, and it hurt my ribs. “That’s your defense?”
“You don’t understand who Richard answers to.”
Ortiz began tracing the call.
I kept Evan talking.
“You forged my signature.”
“I moved paperwork. I never touched you.”
“You deleted the recording.”
“To protect you.”
“From what?”
Silence.
Then: “Caroline.”
I closed my eyes.
“What about her?”
“She didn’t die in a random crash.”
Nathan appeared in the doorway. He had heard.
Evan continued, “She found the same structure you found. Shell companies. fake consulting contracts. charity money. But Richard wasn’t the top.”
“Who was?”
“You know him.”
“Who?”
Nathan walked closer.
Evan breathed into the phone. “Ask Nathan why his uncle disappeared from the family photographs.”
Nathan’s face changed.
“Evan,” he said.
The line went quiet.
Then Evan whispered, “He’s there?”
“Yes.”
A long pause.
“Oh, God.”
The call ended.
Nathan looked terrified.
I said, “Who is your uncle?”
He sat down heavily.
“My father’s older brother. Marcus.”
“Where is he?”
Nathan looked toward Ortiz.
“Officially? Dead.”
“And unofficially?”
May you like
Nathan swallowed.
“He called me three days ago.”
