Chapter 10 - The Lake House
We drove behind Martinez and three patrol cars, stopping at the end of the long private road while officers moved through the trees.
"Fire," I said.
Michael was out of the car before I could stop him.
"Michael!"
An officer grabbed him. "Stay back!"
Flames punched through the library window.
Victor wasn't stealing the evidence.
He was burning it.
Fire crews arrived as officers entered from the rear. Ten minutes later, they brought out no Victor and no document.
But they found a tunnel-like service passage beneath the old wine cellar that opened near the boat dock.
"He had a route planned," Martinez said.
Michael stared at the burning house. "He grew up around us. He knows every family property."
A firefighter carried out a small steel box, blackened but intact.
The wall safe had survived.
Inside was Andrew's signed paternity acknowledgment, old photographs, and a letter addressed to MICHAEL - OPEN WHEN YOU ARE READY TO KNOW WHO I WAS.
Michael sat on the tailgate of an ambulance and opened it.
Andrew's handwriting filled three pages.
He wrote about the company, about his mistakes, and about loving the child he might never meet.
The last paragraph made Michael cover his mouth.
Whatever they tell you about your name, remember this: being a Bennett is not proof that you are good. It is only proof that you inherited a choice.
Michael folded the letter carefully.
Then Martinez came running from the dock.
"We found Victor's boat."
"Where?"
"Half a mile downshore. Empty."
Her phone rang before she finished.
She listened, then looked at me.
"We have another problem."
Federal agents had just frozen an account containing fourteen million dollars.
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The account owner was listed as Lily Bennett.
The authorized signer was me.
