PART 4 — What Melissa Knew

I read Melissa’s message three times.
Claire, you don’t know what Dad found.
I didn’t reply.
Neither did Nina.

We sat in silence while the city outside the conference-room windows slowly disappeared beneath the darkness.
Finally, Nina said, “Your father found something.”
“Yes.”

“And Melissa knows about it.”
“Apparently.”
“Then we need to find out what.”
I looked at the message again.
There was no threat.
No insult.

No laughing emoji.
No smugness.
Just six words.
That frightened me more than anything Daniel had said.
Because Melissa had spent years treating me like an outsider.
She had called me lucky.
Spoiled.

Dependent.
Once, at Thanksgiving, she had joked that I had “won the husband lottery.”
I had smiled and said nothing.
She never knew that I was the one who had saved her brother’s company from bankruptcy twice.
She never knew that I had personally negotiated the bank covenant that kept Prescott Logistics alive during its worst year.
She never knew because Daniel had never told her.
Or perhaps he had.
Perhaps that was part of the plan.
At 1:18 a.m., another message arrived.
Melissa: Meet me alone.
I looked at Nina.
“Absolutely not,” she said.

I almost laughed.
“You didn’t even ask where.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Why?”
“Because anyone who says meet me alone after helping move seventy-five thousand dollars out of a company account is either desperate or dangerous.”
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
Melissa: Your father left something behind.
My breath caught.
Nina saw my face.
“What?”
I handed her the phone.
She read it.
Then she slowly sat down.
“Don’t go.”
“I need to know.”
“Not alone.”
“Then I’ll bring you.”
Melissa replied almost instantly.
“No lawyers.”
I typed:
Then no meeting.
Three dots appeared.

Then:
Tomorrow. 8:00 a.m. Bellmont House. Private room upstairs.
I stared at the name of the restaurant.
The same place where Daniel had humiliated me.
The same room where his family had laughed.
I looked at Nina.
“She wants me back there.”
“That’s not an accident.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t go.”
I stood.
“I’m going.”
Nina sighed.
“Fine.”

“But you’re staying outside.”
She frowned.
“Why?”
“Because if Melissa is telling the truth, I need her to believe she has control of the conversation.”
Nina nodded reluctantly.
At 2:07 a.m., I finally drove home.

The house was dark.
Daniel’s car was gone.
I walked inside.
The champagne glasses from that morning were still sitting beside the kitchen sink.
I picked up one.
Then I noticed something taped beneath it.
A small envelope.
My name was written across the front.
CLAIRE.
I froze.
I hadn’t seen it earlier.
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a photograph.
My father.
Daniel.

And another man I didn’t recognize.
They were standing outside a warehouse.
On the back of the photograph was a date.
Four months before Daniel and I met.
Underneath it, my father had written:
HE DOESN’T KNOW WHO HE’S WORKING FOR.
I turned the photograph over again.

My hands began to shake.
There was one more line.
IF HE EVER CALLS YOU A FREeloader, ASK HIM ABOUT THE RED FILE.
I immediately called Nina.
She answered on the first ring.
“Claire?”
“I found something.”
“What?”
I told her.
She was silent.
“Where is the red file?”
“I don’t know.”

“Search your father’s things.”
“My father’s things were packed away years ago.”
“Then we start there.”
I went to the basement.
The old boxes were still stacked against the far wall.
Christmas decorations.
Tax records.

Books.
Photographs.
My father’s old briefcase.
I hadn’t opened it since his funeral.
I carried it upstairs.
The combination was still the same.
My birthday.

The lock clicked.
Inside were notebooks, old audit reports, and a red folder.
I stopped breathing.
The red file.
I opened it.
The first page contained one sentence.

PRESCOTT LOGISTICS WAS NEVER DANIEL’S COMPANY.
Underneath was a list of names.
My father’s name.
My name.
Daniel’s name.
Melissa’s name.
Then one name I had never seen before.
Ethan Vale.
I searched the name online.
Nina called.
“Did you find it?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Ethan Vale.”

There was a pause.
“Claire, close the file.”
“Why?”
“Because I know that name.”
My heart started pounding.
“How?”
“He was the original buyer.”

“The buyer of Prescott Logistics?”
“Yes.”
“But the current buyer is—”
“Not the same company.”
I stared at the paperwork.
“What happened to Ethan?”
Nina lowered her voice.

“He disappeared.”
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
The exact year Daniel had first started calling me a freeloader.
I looked at the photograph again.
Daniel.
My father.
Ethan Vale.
Standing together.
Before I could say anything, Nina asked:
“Claire, what’s the last page?”
I flipped through the file.
The final page was sealed inside a plastic sleeve.
There was a handwritten note.
I broke the seal.
The note was short.
Claire,
If you are reading this, Daniel has already made his move.
Do not trust the family.
Do not trust the buyer.
And whatever you do…
do not let Daniel find Ethan.
I stared at the last sentence.
Then I heard something downstairs.
A door closing.
I froze.
Nina heard it through the phone.
“Claire?”
I whispered, “Someone is in the house.”
“Get out.”
I grabbed the file.
Footsteps moved across the hallway below.
Slow.
Deliberate.

Then someone stopped outside the basement door.
The handle began to turn.
I backed away.
My phone slipped in my hand.
The door opened.
And Daniel stepped into the room.
He wasn’t smiling.
He wasn’t angry.
He looked terrified.
His eyes went straight to the red file.
Then he whispered four words.
“Your father lied to you.”
I stared at him.
“About what?”
Daniel swallowed.

“About who I am.”
The silence between us felt endless.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face went completely pale.
He answered.

“Hello?”
A voice spoke from the other end.
Daniel’s expression collapsed.
“No.”
He took one step backward.
“No, that’s impossible.”
I watched him carefully.
“Who is it?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
The caller spoke again.
Daniel closed his eyes.
Then he whispered:
“Ethan?”
The phone slipped from his hand.
And from the speaker, I heard a man’s voice say:
“Daniel… tell Claire the truth.”
TO BE CONTINUED IN  PART 5..
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