Chapter 9 - THE DATE HIS FATHER DIED TWICE
Sofía Herrera did not allow anyone to touch the flash drive again until they were inside a secure federal office.
Gabriel went to a private clinic under an assumed name.
Mateo was transported separately.
Alejandro followed Sofía through a side entrance of an unmarked government building just after sunrise.
He had not slept.
His jaw was swelling from Mateo’s punch.
His shirt was streaked with dust and Gabriel’s blood.
For the first time in his adult life, Alejandro looked like a man whose money could not immediately fix his morning.
Sofía led him into a windowless conference room.
A laptop sat on the table disconnected from any network.
Two forensic analysts waited beside it.
Sofía placed the flash drive inside a clear evidence bag.
“Before we open this, you need to understand something.”
Alejandro looked at her.
“What?”
“If this contains what Mateo implied, you may not like where it goes.”
“I stopped liking where this went seven months ago.”
“That is not what I mean.”
She sat across from him.
“Your father contacted me fourteen years ago.”
Alejandro stared at her.
“He was already sick?”
“No.”
Rafael Montero had died twelve years earlier after what the family publicly called a sudden cardiac event.
He had been sixty-one.
Alejandro remembered the phone call.
The funeral.
His mother standing perfectly straight while everyone else cried.
He remembered Mateo taking control of legal matters before Rafael’s body was even buried.
“What did my father want?”
“He suspected money was being moved out of Montero Construction.”
Alejandro leaned back.
“How much?”
“Not much at first.”
Sofía folded her hands.
“Two million pesos here.”
“Four million there.”
“Small enough inside a large company to hide behind cost overruns.”
“Who did he suspect?”
“He did not know.”
Alejandro searched her face.
“Mateo was working for us then.”
“As a junior legal adviser.”
“My mother?”
Sofía paused.
“Your father suspected someone in the family office.”
“That means my mother.”
“It means several people had access.”
Alejandro hated her caution.
He also understood it.
“What happened?”
“Rafael began copying records.”
“Like Lucía.”
“Yes.”
The parallel made Alejandro’s skin crawl.
Sofía continued.
“Then he abruptly told me to stop investigating.”
“Why?”
“He said he had made a mistake.”
“Did you believe him?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you continue?”
“Because suspicion is not a warrant.”
She looked at him steadily.
“And because your father stopped cooperating.”
“When?”
“Eleven days before he died.”
Alejandro’s hands went still.
Sofía reached into a folder and pulled out an old photocopy.
It was a calendar page.
One date had been circled in Rafael’s handwriting.
April 17.
Alejandro felt his chest tighten.
“What is that?”
“The last day your father met with me.”
Mateo had said the encryption key was the date Rafael discovered Elena was stealing from him.
Alejandro looked at the laptop.
“Try April seventeenth.”
One analyst inserted the flash drive into an isolated reader.
An encrypted volume appeared.
A date field requested eight digits.
The analyst entered 1704 followed by the year fourteen years earlier.
ACCESS DENIED.
Alejandro exhaled.
Sofía frowned.
“Maybe Mateo lied.”
“He lies when it helps him.”
Alejandro stared at the calendar.
“But he wanted me to think about my father.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows there is something I do not.”
He pulled out his phone.
No signal was allowed in the room.
He stood.
“I need to call Lucía.”
Sofía gestured toward the hall.
“You can use the secure line.”
Lucía answered on the fourth ring.
Her voice was sleepy.
“Alejandro?”
“Yes.”
“Is Gabriel alive?”
“Yes.”
She breathed out.
“And Mateo?”
“In custody for now.”
“Good.”
He heard hospital equipment in the background.
“How is the baby?”
“Still inside me.”
He almost laughed.
“Good.”
“Alejandro.”
“What?”
“Why are you calling?”
He realized even his concern sounded like a strategy to her now.
“The drive is encrypted.”
“I know.”
“You know the key?”
“No.”
“Mateo said it is the date my father discovered my mother was stealing from him.”
Silence.
Alejandro gripped the receiver.
“Lucía?”
“I never told Mateo that.”
“Then how did he know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did you use that as the key?”
“I didn’t.”
Alejandro frowned.
“What?”
“I encrypted the copies with a date, but not that date.”
“Which date?”
“The day I found the first suspicious transfer.”
Alejandro looked through the glass at Sofía.
“What day?”
“March third.”
“What year?”
“The current year.”
Alejandro gave the date to the analyst.
ACCESS DENIED.
His stomach tightened.
“It failed.”
Lucía sounded confused.
“That is impossible.”
“Could someone have changed the encryption?”
“Not without opening it first.”
Alejandro looked at Sofía.
Then Lucía whispered.
“Unless that is not my drive.”
He froze.
“What?”
“The one I hid had a scratch across the metal connector.”
Alejandro remembered the drive from the vase.
It looked almost new.
He turned to Sofía.
“Mateo knew we would find it.”
Sofía’s eyes narrowed.
Alejandro spoke into the phone.
“Lucía, when did you last verify the drive was in the vase?”
“Seven months ago.”
“So someone replaced it.”
“Maybe.”
“Why leave another encrypted drive?”
Lucía answered slowly.
“To make us open it.”
Alejandro’s skin prickled.
He rushed back into the room.
“Disconnect it.”
The analyst’s hands flew toward the machine.
Too late.
The screen flashed.
A video opened automatically.
Rafael Montero appeared on the screen.
Older than Alejandro remembered him.
Tired.
Afraid.
The timestamp was twelve years old.
Alejandro stopped moving.
His dead father looked directly into the camera.
“If you are watching this, then Elena finally lost control of the lie.”
Alejandro’s knees almost gave way.
Rafael continued.
“My son must never believe my death was natural.”
The video cut to black.
Then a countdown appeared.
The federal office had no windows in the interview wing.
Alejandro noticed because he suddenly needed air.
Sofía Herrera placed a folder in front of him.
"Before we open anything else on that drive, you need to understand what we already know."
Alejandro did not sit.
"I need to understand why my cousin just implied my father died because of his identity."
Sofía folded her arms.
"Mateo is not cooperating."
"Then make him."
"This is not one of your companies."
Her tone was calm and unafraid.
Alejandro almost respected her for it.
"Who is he?"
"Legally? Mateo Salazar. Son of your mother's younger sister, Teresa."
"I know that."
"Biologically, we are less certain."
Alejandro stopped pacing.
Sofía slid a copy of an old hospital registry across the table.
The original record had been altered.
A birth date.
A mother's surname.
A blank line where a father should have been.
"This was recovered during a corruption investigation six years ago," Sofía said.
"Why was my family in a corruption file?"
"It wasn't."
She tapped the paper.
"A hospital administrator was."
Alejandro read the signature beneath the amendment.
The administrator had been paid through a company he recognized.
Montesur Holdings.
A Montero subsidiary.
"Who authorized this payment?"
"Your father."
Alejandro looked up.
Sofía did not soften the next sentence.
"Or someone using his authorization."
That distinction now meant everything.
Alejandro sat down slowly.
"What does this have to do with the date Mateo mentioned?"
Sofía opened another folder.
Inside was a copy of Rafael Montero's calendar from the week before his death.
One date had been circled in blue ink.
Beside it, Rafael had written three initials.
E.M.
M.S.
R.C.
Alejandro recognized Elena Montero and Mateo Salazar.
"Who is R.C.?"
"We don't know."
"And the note?"
Sofía turned the page toward him.
Rafael had written one sentence beneath the initials.
IF BLOOD IS THE LEVER, THE COMPANY IS THE WEAPON.
Alejandro read it twice.
"My father wrote like a paranoid man."
"Paranoid men can still be murdered."
The word landed heavily.
"You think he was murdered?"
"I think the official cause of death deserves another look."
Alejandro remembered the funeral.
Heart failure.
That had been the explanation.
Rafael was fifty-nine.
He had complained of nausea after dinner.
By midnight he was dead.
Elena had been beside him.
Mateo had called the ambulance.
Alejandro had arrived too late.
He suddenly saw the scene differently.
Not as memory.
As evidence.
"Where is the original autopsy?"
Sofía's face hardened.
"Missing."
"Missing?"
"Removed from the archive three days after his burial."
"By whom?"
"A clerk using credentials linked to Montero Global security."
Alejandro felt his hands go cold.
"Mateo."
"Maybe."
Sofía looked toward the forensic lab door.
"Or someone who wanted us to think it was Mateo."
TEN MINUTES UNTIL AUTOMATIC DELETION.
Sofía swore.
The analysts began working.
Alejandro stared at the blank screen.
His father had just died a second time in front of him.
May you like
Only this time, he had left an accusation behind.
