THE MAN I TRUSTED MOST
For several seconds, I couldn’t move.
I stared at the name on the screen.
RICHARD VANCE.
My uncle.
My mother’s younger brother.
The man who had taught me how to read financial reports when I was a teenager.
The man who had encouraged me to join federal law enforcement.
The man I had just called for help.
The man who had told me not to trust anyone inside The Obsidian Room.
And now his name was sitting in front of me on a financial record connected to my father’s death.
“No,” I whispered.
The agent looked at me carefully.
“Agent Harrison?”
I forced myself to breathe.
“Show me the entire transaction.”
He turned the tablet toward me.
The payment had been made twelve years earlier.
A substantial amount of money had been transferred from a private Sterling Global account to a company registered under a different name.
The recipient company no longer existed.
But the account had been opened by someone using Richard’s credentials.
“Could someone have used his identity?”
“Yes.”
“Could the records have been altered?”
“It’s possible.”
I looked at him.
“But?”
“But the authorization appears legitimate.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who verified it?”
“Our digital team.”
“Get them.”
Minutes later, two forensic specialists entered the room.
I pointed toward the screen.
“Tell me exactly what you’re seeing.”
One of them explained the transaction.
“The signature matches the digital certificate associated with Richard Vance.”
“Could it have been stolen?”
“Technically, yes.”
“Do you see evidence of that?”
“No.”
I looked at the second specialist.
“And the account?”
“Opened three days before the transfer.”
“By whom?”
He enlarged the record.
The name appeared.
RICHARD VANCE.
I stepped away from the table.
My uncle had always told me that evidence didn’t care about emotions.
Evidence didn’t care who you loved.
It simply told the truth.
But I wasn’t ready to believe this truth.
Not yet.
I walked back into the main room.
Clint was still sitting under federal guard.
The moment he saw my face, he knew something had happened.
“What did you find?”
I placed the tablet on the table in front of him.
He looked at the screen.
His face went pale.
“You know what this is.”
He nodded slowly.
“Where did you get it?”
“Answer me.”
He swallowed.
“I saw that name before.”
“When?”
“When I was first recruited.”
“By Victor?”
“Yes.”
“What did Victor tell you about Richard?”
Clint looked around nervously.
“He said Richard was the reason nobody had ever been able to touch the organization.”
My heart sank.
“Organization?”
Clint nodded.
“Sterling Global wasn’t the organization.”
“Then what was?”
“I don’t know the name.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I never met the people at the top.”
“Then why were you involved?”
“Because they promised me protection.”
“From whom?”
He looked at me.
“From the people who wanted to expose them.”
I leaned closer.
“And my father?”
Clint’s eyes dropped.
“Your father was one of those people.”
I felt a sharp pain in my chest.
“What exactly happened to him?”
Clint hesitated.
“I wasn’t there.”
“Then who was?”
“Victor.”
I stared at him.
“Victor killed my father?”
“I don’t know.”
“Clint!”
“I swear!”
His voice cracked.
“I only know what I was told.”
“What were you told?”
He looked toward the agents.
Then lowered his voice.
“Your father was supposed to hand over the ledger.”
“What happened?”
“He refused.”
“And then?”
“There was an accident.”
My hands curled into fists.
“The car accident.”
He nodded.
“But according to Victor, it wasn’t supposed to happen that way.”
“What does that mean?”
Clint shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Before I could question him further, my phone vibrated.
A message.
This time, there was no number.
Only one sentence.
COME TO THE PARKING GARAGE ALONE.
I showed the message to Miller.
He immediately shook his head.
“Absolutely not.”
“I need to know who sent it.”
“You’re not going anywhere alone.”
“If this person knows about my father, they may have information we need.”
“Then we’ll bring them in.”
“They won’t show up if they see federal agents.”
Miller looked at me.
“Then we make sure they don’t see us.”
Twenty minutes later, I stood on the upper level of the parking garage.
Agents were positioned around me, hidden from sight.
The garage was almost empty.
Cold wind moved through the concrete structure.
I waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Then I heard footsteps.
A man appeared from behind a concrete pillar.
He was older.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
He stopped several yards away.
“Clara Harrison?”
“Yes.”
He looked around.
“You came alone?”
“Yes.”
He gave a nervous smile.
“You’re lying.”
I didn’t respond.
He sighed.
“I suppose that’s why your father trusted you.”
My heart stopped.
“You knew my father?”
“I worked with him.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Daniel Mercer.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“What did my father discover?”
Daniel looked toward the shadows.
“Your father discovered that Sterling Global was being used to move money for people who didn’t officially exist.”
“Victor Hale?”
He nodded.
“And Richard Vance.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“You knew my uncle?”
“I knew what he was doing.”
“What was he doing?”
Daniel stepped closer.
“He wasn’t protecting the organization.”
“Then what?”
“He was running part of it.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
Daniel’s expression was filled with sympathy.
“I know you don’t want to believe me.”
“Give me proof.”
“I can.”
He reached inside his coat.
My hand instinctively moved toward my weapon.
But he pulled out a small envelope.
He held it toward me.
“Your father left this for you.”
I didn’t move.
“How long have you had it?”
“Twelve years.”
“Why give it to me now?”
“Because I was waiting until you were ready.”
“Ready for what?”
He looked directly into my eyes.
“To learn why your father died.”
I slowly took the envelope.
My name was written across the front in my father’s handwriting.
I knew it immediately.
My hands began trembling.
I opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
Only one sentence had been written.
Clara, if you’re reading this, don’t trust Richard.
My breath caught.
Daniel watched me silently.
Then he said something that made everything even worse.
“Your father didn’t die because he discovered the money.”
I looked up.
“Then why did he die?”
Daniel’s face became grim.
“Because he discovered who was receiving it.”
I stared at him.
“Who?”
He looked toward the entrance of the garage.
Then whispered:
“Someone you have trusted your entire life.”
