Chapter 3 - The Silver Key
Evelyn refused to explain the key until the doctor discharged her.
"Not here," she said. "Too many people can walk in."
Maya booked us two rooms at a hotel under her firm's account. By sunrise, we were sitting around a small table with stale coffee, Evelyn's copied statements, and the silver key between us.
"Safe-deposit box," Evelyn said.
"Where?" Maya asked.
"Piedmont Federal."
"Whose name?"
"Mine."
I leaned forward. "What is inside?"
"Whatever Harold didn't know I kept."
At nine, we entered the bank with Officer Patel's incident number documented in case Harold later claimed Evelyn lacked capacity.
The box was longer than I expected.
Inside were tax folders, an old phone, two flash drives, and a sealed envelope marked IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO ME.
Evelyn's hands shook.
"I wrote that ten years ago."
"Why?"
She didn't answer.
Maya connected the first flash drive to an offline laptop.
Folders appeared by year.
Each contained vendor invoices and payment approvals.
Then I saw Northstar again.
And Harbor Point.
And a third company called Meridian Field Services.
I clicked a PDF.
It showed an invoice for "risk consulting" worth $640,000.
The approval signature belonged to Harold.
Below his was Daniel's.
I stared at it.
"He signed this four months ago."
Evelyn looked away.
"Daniel told me he didn't work in finance."
Maya opened another file.
"Claire. Look at the distribution list."
Five names appeared.
Harold Carter.
Daniel Carter.
Martin Hales, former CFO.
Victor Sloan, outside counsel.
And Thomas Bennett.
My father.
Except next to his name were two words:
EXTERNAL THREAT.
"My father wasn't part of this. They were tracking him."
Evelyn covered her mouth.
Then the old phone inside the box lit up.
None of us had touched it.
May you like
One new text appeared on the screen.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE BOX CLOSED.
