“No.”
My legs went weak.
The case.
The disc.
Now a hidden camera.
This wasn’t an estranged uncle secretly trying to reconnect with his nephew.
Derek was watching us.
Planning something.
The police took Ethan and me to the station while specialists examined everything.
At first, I assumed the black disc was some kind of tracker.
It wasn’t.
It was literally a key.
The black case had an electronic lock.
The disc behind Ethan’s ear opened it.
Derek had hidden the key somewhere a mother would not normally search.
Later, Ethan remembered exactly what Derek had told him.
“You’re going to need this when you take the box to your dad’s things.”
Then:
“If your mom finds the box first, she won’t be able to open it. So keep the key secret.”
When police opened the case, they found financial records.
Copies of checks.
Transfer papers.
And a flash drive.
At first glance, the documents made Ryan appear guilty.
They seemed to show him moving money from a small business he had once co-owned with Derek.
There were signatures that looked like Ryan’s.
Withdrawals.
Transfers.
Enough evidence to make my dead husband appear to be a thief.
