Nathan was sitting in my kitchen when we returned.
The front door was locked.
There was no sign of forced entry.
He looked exhausted, one hand pressed against his ribs as he leaned against the counter.
Grady stopped in the doorway.
“You shouldn't be here.”
Nathan looked at him.
“Neither should you.”
I stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Nathan looked at me.
“I came because the police were about to find the wrong thing.”
“What wrong thing?”
“The records.”
Morales drew his weapon but kept it lowered.
“Dr. Ellis, step away from the counter.”
Nathan raised both hands.
“I don't want trouble.”
“Then tell us how you entered the house.”
“I had a key.”
I stared at him.
“What key?”
He reached into his coat.
A brass key rested in his palm.
I recognized it.
Not the one from the hidden cash box.
This one was older.
Stamped with a number.
17.
Grady inhaled sharply.
“That’s it.”
I looked at him.
“You know that key?”
“Yes.”
Nathan nodded.
“Your grandfather gave it to Peter.”
I stared at him.
“Why do you have it?”
“Because Peter gave it to me.”
“Before he died?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two days before the accident.”
Morales stepped closer.
“Why didn't you tell us?”
“Because I didn't trust the police.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Nathan looked at me.
“I didn't trust anyone.”
He placed the key on the table.
“Your father kept records for a group of men who bought distressed properties.”
I waited.
“Some were legitimate purchases,” Nathan continued. “Some weren't.”
“How weren't they legitimate?”
“People were pressured to sell.”
“By whom?”
“Debt collectors. Lawyers. Businessmen. Anyone who could make a person desperate enough.”
I thought of the names in the notebook.
“Did my father participate?”
“Yes.”
The answer hurt.
“Why?”
“Because he thought he could control the money.”
“Could he?”
“No.”
Nathan looked toward the cellar.
“He eventually tried to leave.”
“And they stopped him?”
“They threatened your family.”
I stared at him.
“My family.”
“Yes.”
“Me?”
“You.”
“Grady?”
“Everyone.”
Morales asked, “Who were they?”
Nathan shook his head.
“I only know some names.”
“Give them to me.”
“Martin Hale.”
Kelsey's father.
“Peter Ellis.”
Your father.”
Nathan looked at me.
“Thomas Whitlow.”
My chest tightened.
“What about Kelsey?”
“She found the records years later.”
“Why would she have access?”
“Because Martin kept copies.”
I understood.
Kelsey had not stumbled into the secret.
She had inherited it.
Maybe she had known from the beginning.
Maybe that was why she had been so interested in my property.
“What does the key open?”
Nathan looked at Grady.
“The room where your grandfather kept the original ledger.”
Grady swallowed.
“We already found the room.”
Nathan shook his head.
“You found the storage room.”
He pointed toward the cellar.
“The ledger isn't there.”
Morales frowned.
“Then where?”
Nathan looked at me.
“Under the kitchen floor.”
I felt the same cold pressure return.
“We already found a box.”
“The box was a decoy.”
I stared at him.
“Why would my father leave a decoy?”
“To protect the real ledger.”
“From whom?”
“Everyone.”
Nathan walked toward the cellar door.
Morales stopped him.
“You stay here.”
Nathan nodded.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a photograph.
“This is what you're looking for.”
I took it.
It showed the kitchen before the cabinets had been replaced.
The floor was unfinished.
A square mark had been drawn beneath the sink.
On the back was a note.
THE SECOND FLOOR IS NOT ABOVE YOU.
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Nathan said, “Look at the architecture.”
Morales took the photograph.
He studied it.
“The foundation is different.”
“Yes,” Nathan said.
“There was a second structure.”
“Exactly.”
I remembered the property survey.
The red circle.
The word BASEMENT.
Morales looked at me.
“Your house may have been built over an older foundation.”
Nathan nodded.
“Thomas knew.”
“How?”
“He helped build the addition.”
I stared at the photograph.
“Then why did he never tell me?”
“Because he didn't want you involved.”
I looked at Nathan.
“You keep saying he protected me.”
“He did.”
“Then why leave clues?”
“Because he knew he might die before he could explain.”
Silence.
Grady spoke.
“Why did he trust me?”
Nathan looked at him.
“Because you were the only person he believed would return.”
I didn't understand.
“Return from where?”
Nathan didn't answer.
Grady did.
“Chicago.”
I turned.
“What happened in Chicago?”
He looked ashamed.
“When I was seventeen, Grandpa sent me there.”
“For what?”
“To meet Peter.”
My heart sank.
“You met Peter Ellis?”
“Yes.”
“You told me you never knew him.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because Grandpa made me promise.”
“What did Peter say?”
Grady swallowed.
“He said my father was trying to protect you.”
“Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“And what else?”
“He said Kelsey’s family wanted the property.”
I looked at Nathan.
“Why?”
“Because of what was underneath it.”
I felt my throat tighten.
“What?”
Nathan answered quietly.
“Not money.”
Morales looked at him.
“Then what?”
“Names.”
I frowned.
“Names?”
“People who had been paid.”
“Why would names matter?”
“Because some of those people are still alive.”
The room went silent.
“And powerful,” Nathan added.
I thought of the mysterious vehicles.
The photographs.
The threats.
The forged documents.
The people watching my house.
Nathan continued.
“Kelsey wasn't trying to get your house because she wanted the property.”
“Then why?”
“She wanted the records destroyed.”
That changed everything.
“She could have burned the house.”
“She needed the ledger first.”
“Why didn't she find it?”
“Because Thomas split the records.”
“Where?”
“Some in the notebook.”
He pointed toward the evidence bag.
“Some under the floor.”
“And the rest?”
Nathan looked at Grady.
“Your son has it.”
Grady's face drained of color.
“I don't.”
Nathan nodded.
“You do.”
Grady shook his head.
“No.”
“Think.”
Grady closed his eyes.
I watched him struggle.
Then he whispered:
“The key.”
I looked at him.
“What key?”
“The one Grandpa gave me.”
“You said Kelsey had it.”
“She did.”
“Where is it now?”
Grady looked toward the kitchen.
“She took it from my desk.”
Nathan said, “She gave it to someone.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Morales moved toward the door.
“We need to locate her.”
My phone rang.
Kelsey.
I answered.
For several seconds there was only breathing.
Then she said, “Mom.”
I hadn't heard her call me that before.
“What do you want?”
“I need you to listen.”
“I've been listening for months.”
“I didn't know how to stop.”
“Stop what?”
She began crying.
“Your father left something in the house.”
“I know.”
“No. You don't.”
“Then tell me.”
“There are people looking for it.”
“Who?”
“I can't say.”
“You can.”
“No.”
Her voice dropped.
“Because one of them is already inside your house.”
I turned toward the hallway.
Morales raised his hand.
Everyone became silent.
I heard a floorboard creak upstairs.
Once.
Then again.
Kelsey whispered through the phone.
“Don't go upstairs.”
I looked at Grady.
He was staring at the ceiling.
Another creak.
Then footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Coming toward the stairs.
Morales moved quietly to the hallway.
Nathan whispered, “He's here.”
“Who?”
“The man from the photograph.”
The footsteps stopped.
A shadow appeared beneath the upstairs landing.
Then a man's voice drifted down.
“Karen?”
I froze.
I knew that voice.
I had heard it once before.
Years ago.
At my husband's funeral.
A man had approached me and offered condolences.
I had forgotten his name.
But I remembered the voice.
Martin Hale.
Kelsey's father.
The man who was supposed to have been dead for two years.
He stepped into view.
Older than the photograph.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
Grady backed away.
Nathan whispered, “Now you know why Kelsey was afraid.”
Martin looked directly at me.
“You should never have opened the floor.”
I stared at him.
“You're dead.”
He smiled without warmth.
“That's what everyone was told.”
Then he reached into his coat.
Morales raised his weapon.
“Don't move.”
Martin stopped.
But he was smiling.
Because whatever he had come for, he already knew exactly where it was.
And somewhere beneath my kitchen floor, my father's final secret was waiting for all of us.
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: Martin Hale Was Supposed to Be Dead, Yet He Stood in My House Asking for Something My Father Had Hidden for Decades
My Son Told Me to Stay Away From His House, So I Went to the Dealership and Discovered a Name I Had Never Authorized
Part 8 of 24
