CHAPTER 7 THE SECRET BEHIND HIS WIFE’S DEATH
Not that night.
Not the next.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Arianne on that bathroom floor.
Gideon hiding beneath his bed.
My wife writing that letter.
And the shadowy figure escaping with the USB drive.
The Vances had wanted money.
But someone else had wanted something far more dangerous.
Silence.
At 6:40 in the morning, Charles returned to my office.
He brought a folder.
No lawyers.
No detectives.
Just the two of us.
He placed it on my desk.
"Before I tell you the name, you need to see this."
I opened the folder.
Inside were bank transfers.
Private company records.
Medical documents.
Insurance forms.
Every transaction led back to the same network.
But one signature appeared again and again.
My wife's doctor.
I looked up.
"Her doctor?"
Charles nodded.
"Her medical records were altered."
My hands went cold.
"How?"
"Someone changed her diagnosis."
"Why?"
"To make the death look natural."
I stared at him.
"Who had access?"
Charles didn't answer.
He pointed to another page.
I looked.
There were three authorized users.
One was my wife.
One was her doctor.
And one was...
I stopped breathing.
My own name.
"That's impossible."
Charles shook his head.
"Your credentials were used."
"But I didn't do this."
"I know."
I looked at him.
"Then someone had my credentials."
Charles nodded.
"Someone who had access to everything."
I thought about it.
My office.
My accounts.
My wife's medical records.
Arianne's trust.
The Vance contracts.
And suddenly, one memory surfaced.
A memory I'd ignored for years.
The night my wife died.
Charles had been in the hospital.
But he wasn't alone.
Someone else had been there.
Someone I trusted.
Someone who had held my shoulder and told me,
"She's gone, Baldric."
Someone who had convinced me not to ask questions.
Someone who had handled every document after her death.
I whispered his name.
Charles closed his eyes.
"Yes."
I stood.
"No."
Charles looked at me.
"He's been my friend for thirty years."
"And that's exactly why he could do it."
I stared through the office window.
For decades, I had built my life on loyalty.
Now I was discovering that loyalty could be used as a weapon.
My phone rang.
The hospital.
I answered.
A nurse's voice came through.
"Mr. Baldric?"
"Yes."
"Your daughter is asking for you."
"Is she okay?"
"She's frightened."
"Why?"
The nurse hesitated.
"She says someone came to her room."
My blood turned cold.
"Who?"
"We don't know."
"What did he want?"
The nurse lowered her voice.
"He asked her where Gideon was."
I grabbed my coat.
"Where is my grandson?"
"He's with the police."
I exhaled.
Then the nurse said:
"Mr. Baldric..."
"What?"
"The visitor left something on your daughter's bedside table."
"What?"
"A photograph."
My stomach tightened.
"What photograph?"
The nurse answered:
"Your wife's funeral."
I froze.
"There's something written on the back."
"What?"
The nurse read it aloud.
"Your daughter was never the target."
Silence.
Then:
"You were."
I stood completely still.
For the first time, I understood the truth.
Arianne's marriage.
The bruises.
The threats.
The trust.
The Vances.
My wife's death.
None of it had been separate.
Someone had been moving pieces around me for years.
And the final move had just begun.
I looked at Charles.
"Call everyone."
"Who?"
"My lawyers."
"The detectives?"
"Everyone."
I picked up the folder.
"And Charles?"
"Yes?"
"If the man we've been looking for really has been beside me all these years..."
I looked toward the door.
"...then I want him sitting at this table before midnight."
Charles nodded.
But before he could leave, my phone vibrated again.
Unknown number.
I answered.
For several seconds, there was only silence.
Then a man's voice spoke.
Old.
Calm.
Familiar.
"Hello, Baldric."
I froze.
I knew that voice.
I had heard it thousands of times.
The man continued:
"You finally opened your wife's letter."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"Who are you?"
He laughed softly.
"You know exactly who I am."
The line went dead.
I slowly lowered the phone.
Charles was staring at me.
"What did he say?"
I looked at him.
Then I whispered the name.
Charles's face went completely white.
Because the man on the phone...
May you like
was the one person neither of us had suspected.
And he had just proven that he had been watching me the entire time.
