Chapter 18 - MY FATHER'S NAME
My father died when I was nineteen.
Robert Bennett.
Mechanical engineer.
Quiet.
Practical.
The least dramatic person I had ever known.
He had spent most of his career consulting for aerospace and defense manufacturers.
I knew he invested well.
I knew some of the money that helped me through college came from those investments.
I knew nothing connecting him to Victor Hale.
The storage boxes changed that.
My father's name appeared in records dating back twenty-five years.
Not as a target.
As a consultant.
I felt sick.
Daniel stopped me from assuming the worst.
“Read the context.”
So we did.
My father had been hired by one of Victor's companies to audit technical acquisitions.
Then he discovered irregularities.
False valuations.
Shell vendors.
Hidden ownership.
He documented them.
Victor fired him.
My father threatened legal action.
Then something changed.
The records stopped.
Two years later, my father died in what I had always been told was a heart attack.
I stared at Daniel.
“No.”
“We don't know.”
“He had heart disease.”
“Maybe.”
“No.”
I stood.
“My mother watched him collapse.”
Daniel softened.
“I'm not saying his death was related.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“That Victor had reason to fear him.”
My mother still lived in Fort Collins.
I drove there with security.
She opened the door, saw my face, and immediately knew.
“You found Robert's files.”
I stopped breathing.
“You knew?”
She looked suddenly older.
“Come inside.”
I had spent my whole life believing my mother knew nothing about Dad's business.
Another family myth collapsed.
She brought out a metal document box.
Inside were letters.
Photographs.
A notebook.
My father's handwriting.
Names I now recognized.
Victor Hale.
Charles Price.
Grant Whitmore.
My father had investigated them.
Not alone.
With two other consultants.
One disappeared.
One withdrew.
Dad continued.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
My mother looked at me.
“Because he made me promise.”
“Why?”
“He was afraid they would watch you.”
I almost laughed from the cruelty of it.
“They did.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I know.”
“What?”
She gripped my hand.
“I saw Ryan's picture before your wedding.”
My heart stopped.
“Dad had an old photograph of Grant with Charles Price.”
“When I met Ryan, I didn't connect it.”
“After the engagement, I did.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I tried.”
“No, you didn't.”
“I asked you if you were sure about him.”
“That isn't telling me.”
“I was afraid.”
Anger rose so quickly I had to stand.
“Everyone was afraid.”
“Anthony was afraid.”
“Diane was afraid.”
“Ryan was afraid.”
“And every person who was afraid left me in the middle.”
My mother cried silently.
I looked away.
Then she opened Dad's notebook.
On the last written page was a sentence underlined twice.
VICTOR'S REAL POWER IS NOT MONEY.
IT IS THE LIST.
Below it was a location.
A private bank vault in Denver.
And beside the location was a code.
May you like
My mother's voice trembled.
“Your father believed the list could destroy everything Victor built.”
