Chapter 8 - THE VOICE ON THE TAPE
Nobody spoke for the next three blocks.
Emily finally looked at her father. "What does he mean?"
Alan's face was white. "I don't know."
"You."
Emily's voice cracked. "Dad?"
He whispered, "I was a junior associate at Hale's firm in 2004."
"You worked for Leonard Hale?"
"For eleven months. I drafted motions. I never met you. I never met Mara. I was twenty-seven and terrified of losing my job."
Mara's jaw tightened. "You drafted the emergency petition."
Alan looked at her. "I drafted what I was told was an emergency domestic violence petition. The client file said you had attacked Victor and endangered your son."
"Did you believe it?"
"At first."
Emily stared at her father like she had never seen him before.
"And later?"
They reached First National with thirteen minutes to spare.
Inside the vault room, Mara's hands shook as she slid the brass key into box 417.
The metal drawer came out with a heavy scrape.
Inside were photographs, court papers, returned letters, a small cassette recorder, and a sealed envelope marked DANIEL - IF I FAIL AGAIN.
Daniel picked up the recorder.
Mara pressed play.
"If you keep fighting me, I'll make sure the boy spends his childhood in institutions. You will never see him again."
Mara's voice on the tape: "He's my son."
Another man spoke.
"Mr. Voss, threatening her is not helping."
Emily covered her mouth.
It was Alan.
"The custody order is temporary. You cannot use it to permanently remove the child."
"Watch me."
"I tried to stop him."
The tape kept playing.
"Alan, go home. Forget this meeting happened."
And Alan's younger voice said the sentence that made Emily start crying.
"If you do this, one day your son is going to learn what you are."
The recording clicked off.
Before he could speak, the bank manager rushed into the vault.
"Mr. Voss, I'm sorry, but we have a legal freeze order on this box."
May you like
"Too late."
"Not the box, sir. Your accounts. All of them."
