Rebecca did not raise her voice.
She did not need to.
The calmness in her face made the threat feel worse.
Elaine kept herself between Rebecca and Lily.
“You're not leaving with her,” Elaine said.
Rebecca smiled.
“I don't want the child.”
I stared at her.
“Then what do you want?”
“The drives.”
“They're copies.”
“I know.”
“You already have the money.”
“Not all of it.”
She looked toward the wooden box.
“Sarah moved something before she died.”
I understood.
“The trust.”
Rebecca nodded.
“She moved a significant amount of company money into a protected account.”
“Lily's trust.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted access.”
“We wanted control.”
“Who is we?”
Rebecca's expression remained blank.
“David wasn't smart enough to do this alone.”
“I know.”
“Linda wasn't either.”
“So who was?”
Rebecca glanced toward Elaine.
“She knows.”
Elaine shook her head.
“No.”
“You were at the meetings.”
“I was never part of it.”
“You were close enough.”
Rebecca's eyes hardened.
“You knew the structure.”
Elaine stepped forward.
“And you exploited it.”
Rebecca laughed.
“You people always think the truth is simple.”
“It's not?”
“No.”
She pointed at the drives.
“Sarah believed she was fighting three people.”
“David, Linda, and you?”
“Those were the people she could see.”
“And the others?”
“Lawyers. Accountants. Investors. People who never touched her directly.”
My stomach turned.
“How many?”
Rebecca shrugged.
“Enough.”
I looked at Lily.
She was watching us from behind Elaine.
I wanted her away from this house.
Away from the conversation.
Away from every secret Sarah had been forced to uncover.
“Why Sarah?”
Rebecca's expression changed.
“She refused to cooperate.”
“Cooperate with what?”
“Selling.”
“What?”
“The company.”
I stared at her.
Sarah's company had been struggling before her death.
I remembered that.
She had told me she was fighting to save it.
Rebecca explained that a group of investors wanted to acquire the company cheaply.
Sarah refused.
So they arranged for her finances to collapse.
When that failed, they targeted David.
When Sarah still refused, they used Linda.
And when Sarah began collecting evidence, they decided she had to be silenced.
“You killed her.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“I didn't touch Sarah.”
“But you knew.”
“Yes.”
The admission was almost casual.
“Who pushed her?”
Rebecca looked at me.
“David.”
“Who told him to?”
“Linda.”
“And who organized everything?”
She did not answer.
I stepped closer.
“You.”
Rebecca smiled.
“You're learning.”
Elaine whispered, “Barbara, don't.”
But I could not stop.
“You watched my daughter die.”
“I watched a problem disappear.”
The words broke something inside me.
I wanted to strike her.
Instead, I asked, “What happened to the money?”
“Some was moved offshore.”
“Where?”
“Sarah stopped the final transfer.”
“By moving it into Lily's trust.”
“Yes.”
“So that's why they wanted custody.”
Rebecca nodded.
I finally understood why David had fought so hard for Lily.
It had never been only about being her father.
It had been about access.
Rebecca looked at the third drive.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“You don't understand what you're holding.”
“I understand enough.”
“You're putting yourself in danger.”
“My daughter already died because people like you were afraid of what she knew.”
Rebecca's expression flickered.
Then the sound of sirens came from the street.
She looked toward the window.
“You called the police.”
“No.”
Elaine smiled faintly.
“I did.”
Rebecca moved toward the back door.
Officers entered through the front.
She was arrested before she reached the kitchen.
But even as they handcuffed her, she smiled at me.
“This isn't over.”
Reynolds entered moments later.
“It is for tonight.”
Rebecca looked at him.
“You should ask Martin what happened to the missing account.”
Reynolds's face changed.
“Where is it?”
Rebecca said nothing.
She was taken away.
I turned to Reynolds.
“What missing account?”
He looked at the drives.
“We found it.”
“Where?”
“Under Sarah's name.”
My heart sank.
“Sarah's name?”
“An account created six months before her death.”
“Why didn't we know?”
“Because she never disclosed it.”
“Was it money?”
“Four million dollars.”
Elaine stared at him.
“Sarah had four million hidden?”
“No.”
Reynolds shook his head.
“She had more.”
The account contained transfers from people connected to the investment group.
Payments.
Bribes.
Evidence.
Sarah had been collecting money trails, not stealing money.
She had created the account to track them.
I remembered the blue piano.
The hidden key.
The recordings.
She had built an archive.
Reynolds opened the third drive.
A final file appeared.
The title was simply:
LAST NIGHT.
My chest tightened.
“Sarah recorded the night she died?”
“We believe so.”
We played it.
At first there was only static.
Then Sarah's voice.
“You came.”
David answered.
“You know what this is about.”
“I do.”
“You need to sign.”
“No.”
“You're making this harder.”
“You already took enough.”
A chair scraped.
Sarah's breathing quickened.
Then Linda's voice.
“You don't understand how many people are involved.”
Sarah answered.
“I know.”
Linda sounded startled.
“You know?”
“I recorded everything.”
Silence.
Then David shouted.
A struggle followed.
Sarah screamed.
There was a crash.
Then footsteps.
Then a heavy impact.
The recording became distorted.
But Sarah was still conscious.
She whispered.
“Mom…”
I covered my mouth.
The recording continued.
“I'm sorry.”
David's voice came through.
“Where is the phone?”
Sarah did not answer.
Linda shouted.
“Find it.”
Then Sarah laughed.
It was weak.
But unmistakably Sarah.
“You'll never find everything.”
The recording ended.
I sat down.
Reynolds looked at me.
“That establishes what we needed.”
“Not everything.”
“No.”
“Who else?”
“We'll find them.”
I stared at the screen.
Then I remembered Rebecca's final words.
Ask Martin about the missing account.
“Where is Martin?”
Reynolds hesitated.
“He disappeared.”
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“We don't know.”
Elaine looked at me.
“Could he have taken the missing money?”
“Or the evidence,” Reynolds said.
I looked at the clock.
It was nearly midnight.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
No one spoke.
I heard breathing.
Then a man's voice.
“Barbara.”
“Who is this?”
“You need to stop looking.”
“Martin?”
Silence.
“Martin, where are you?”
“Don't trust Reynolds.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Reynolds watched me.
“What did he say?”
I hesitated.
“He told me not to trust you.”
Reynolds did not react.
Instead, he slowly placed his hand on the folder.
“I was afraid he'd say that.”
“Why?”
“Because Martin knows something about me.”
The room went silent.
I looked at him.
“What?”
Reynolds opened the folder.
Inside was an old photograph.
He was younger.
Standing beside Sarah.
And beside him was Martin.
On the back Sarah had written:
The first person I asked for help.
I looked at Reynolds.
“Were you involved?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Then why would Martin tell me not to trust you?”
“Because someone wants you to.”
He pointed to the photograph.
“Look at Sarah's hand.”
I examined it.
She was holding a small piece of paper.
A number was written on it.
Not a phone number.
An account number.
Reynolds whispered:
“That account belonged to my father.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Number in Sarah’s Hand Led to an Old Family Account, and the Person Behind It Had Been Closer to Her Than We Ever Imagined
The Woman Beside My Daughter’s Coffin Smiled as Though the Funeral Were the Beginning of Something She Had Already Won
Part 7 of 20
