Chapter 7 - The Man at the Door
We reached the house with police six minutes after Jason's call ended.
The front door was open.
One pane of glass beside it was shattered.
Nicole stood in the driveway holding the baby.
She was barefoot.
Her face was streaked with tears.
Jason sat on the curb with blood running from his nose.
The patrol officers cleared the house.
No one else was inside.
"What happened?"
I knelt beside Jason.
He slapped my hand away.
"I'm fine."
"You look fantastic."
That earned me a glare.
Nicole answered for him.
"The man said he was from Northstar legal."
"What did he want?"
"The study."
I felt cold.
"Did he take anything?"
Jason wiped his nose.
"I don't know."
"You let him in?"
"He had paperwork."
"What paperwork?"
"Your name was on it."
Of course it was.
Whoever had sent him knew I now controlled the company.
They had prepared for midnight.
The man had gone straight to my father's study.
Jason followed.
When he tried to stop him from removing a desktop computer tower, the man punched him and escaped through the back door.
I stared at Jason.
"Dad's old computer was still there?"
"Apparently."
Marlene had told me years ago that it had been recycled.
Another lie.
Detective Ortiz arrived and checked security footage from the front camera.
The man wore a baseball cap and glasses.
His face was visible for less than three seconds.
Daniel did not recognize him.
Jason did.
"I've seen him before."
Everyone turned.
"Where?"
I asked.
Jason frowned.
"At Mom's birthday dinner last year."
"Who was he?"
"She said he was a financial consultant."
"Name?"
"Grant."
"Last name?"
"I don't remember."
Nicole did.
"Voss."
Jason looked at her.
"How do you remember that?"
"Because he gave me his card after you spent twenty minutes asking him about cryptocurrency."
She walked to her car and returned with a small wallet of business cards.
One read GRANT VOSS - STRATEGIC ASSET CONSULTING.
Daniel took a photograph.
Ortiz ran the name.
Her expression hardened.
"Interesting."
"What?"
"Voss used to be a licensed private investigator."
"Used to be?"
"License revoked."
"Why?"
"Evidence tampering."
Jason sat back on the curb.
"Of course."
I went into the study with Ortiz.
The desktop tower was gone.
One drawer had been forced open.
A few paper files were missing.
But whoever came had ignored expensive electronics, art, and cash in a desk envelope.
He wanted information.
Nothing else.
I stood where my father's desk used to face the window.
Then I noticed something beneath the radiator.
A tiny black rectangle.
A memory card.
I picked it up with a tissue.
Ortiz bagged it.
"Could have fallen from the computer."
"Or been hidden."
Daniel entered behind us.
"Your father used trail cameras at the warehouse properties."
I looked at him.
"Why would there be a memory card here?"
"Maybe he copied footage."
The card contained twelve video files.
Most were ordinary security clips from Northstar properties.
One was different.
It had been recorded inside the study.
The date was two weeks before my father died.
The camera angle came from high on a bookshelf.
My father sat at his desk.
Marlene stood across from him.
Grant Voss stood near the door.
And Dr. Hale stood beside the fireplace.
My father looked furious.
"I know about Blue Heron."
Marlene folded her arms.
"Then you know Jason needed help."
"Stop using your son as an excuse."
Jason, watching beside me, flinched.
My father pointed at Voss.
"And you."
"You accessed company files without authorization."
Voss smiled.
"You hired me."
"To find internal theft."
"And I did."
"No."
My father leaned forward.
"You found it and joined it."
The room in the recording went silent.
Then Dr. Hale spoke.
"Robert, your blood pressure is dangerous."
My father laughed bitterly.
"Convenient."
He opened a folder.
"Tomorrow morning, I am taking this to the district attorney."
Marlene's face changed.
"You can't."
"Watch me."
Then Voss said something that made my stomach drop.
"What about Clara?"
My father went still.
"Leave my daughter out of this."
Voss shrugged.
"She's eighteen."
"She drives alone."
"College campus at night."
My father's chair slammed backward.
"If you go near her, I will kill you."
Voss did not flinch.
"Then maybe don't make this difficult."
I felt Daniel's hand on my shoulder.
I had never known.
At eighteen, I thought my father had become overprotective for no reason.
He hired a driver for me.
He insisted I call when I reached campus.
He changed the locks.
I had complained constantly.
Now I knew why.
The recording continued.
My father told them they had twenty-four hours to return the money.
Marlene began crying.
It looked convincing even on video.
She said she had only wanted security for Jason.
My father answered coldly.
"You wanted control."
Then Hale stepped closer to him.
"Take your evening medication, Robert."
The video ended there.
No one spoke.
Jason walked out of the study.
I followed him.
He stood in the hallway with both hands against the wall.
"He did all that because of me."
"No."
"The money."
"Marlene used your name."
"My signature is in the ledger."
"Then tell the truth about every document you signed."
He looked at me.
"You still hate me."
"Right now?"
I touched my bruised cheek.
"A little."
He almost smiled.
Then it vanished.
"I signed loan guarantees."
"For how much?"
"Maybe eighty thousand."
"Not six hundred eighty?"
"No."
"Can you prove it?"
He hesitated.
Then he pulled out his phone.
"Maybe."
Marlene had sent him electronic documents years ago.
He had never deleted his old email account.
We searched it together.
At 7:43 a.m., we found a message from Marlene with three attachments.
The subject line read HELP WITH YOUR BUSINESS.
The first two were loan guarantees.
The third looked almost identical.
Except Jason's signature page had been attached to a transfer authorization he had never seen.
It moved $420,000 from Northstar to Blue Heron.
Jason stared at the screen.
"She used my signature."
"Yes."
His face collapsed.
Then another email appeared in the search results.
From Grant Voss.
To Marlene.
Jason had been copied accidentally.
The message was four years old.
May you like
Only one sentence.
HALE SAYS THE DOSE CHANGE SHOULD LOOK NATURAL IF WE KEEP THE TIMELINE CLEAN.
