Chapter 6: The Last Person to See Matthew
The photograph remained open on my phone.
A man stood beneath the hotel lights, hands in the pockets of a dark coat, looking directly at the camera.
Older now.
Gray around the temples.
A narrow scar crossed his left eyebrow.
But the eyes—
Those eyes felt like something my mind had been waiting twenty-five years to recognize.
My brother.
Michael.
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Where is he?”” I asked.
Evelyn stared at the screen.
“I don't know.””
“You said he contacted you.””
“He did.””
“When?””
“Three days ago.””
“Where?””
“He called from a blocked number.””
“What did he want?””
Her lips parted.
“He wanted to know if you were still planning to marry me.””
The room went silent.
Daniel looked at her sharply.
“Why would he care about the wedding?””
Evelyn didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
“What did you tell him?””
“That I was.””
“And what did he say?””
“He said I had one chance to leave.””
My heart pounded.
“Leave me?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“He said you were in danger.””
I looked at the photograph again.
“From him?””
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.””
“From who?””
She looked at me.
“From everyone.””
A bitter laugh escaped me.
“That's convenient.””
“It wasn't supposed to be convenient.””
“Then tell me something that isn't.””
Her eyes filled.
“Your brother said Matthew's death wasn't an accident.””
“I know.””
“He said the fire was staged.””
“I know.””
“He said Margaret found proof twenty-five years ago.””
I stopped.
“What proof?””
Evelyn looked at Daniel.
He closed his briefcase.
“She kept it somewhere no one could find.””
“Where?””
“That's what we haven't discovered,” Daniel said.
I turned toward him.
“You worked for Margaret. What exactly did she ask you to investigate?””
“Evelyn.””
I looked back at her.
“She investigated me?””
“No.””
“Then what?””
“Michael.””
I frowned.
“Why?””
“Because she believed he was alive.””
“Did she know about the fire?””
“She knew enough to be afraid.””
I felt anger rising.
“You both keep saying things like that. Enough. No more half-truths.””
Evelyn flinched.
“Then ask me.””
“Fine.””
I pointed to her.
“Were you with Matthew the night he died?””
“Yes.””
“Were you the last person to see him alive?””
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.””
The answer landed like a punch.
My voice dropped.
“Tell me exactly what happened.””
She stared at the floor.
“I arrived at the lake house shortly after midnight.””
“Why?””
“Michael told me to go there.””
“Why?””
“He said something had gone wrong.””
“What had gone wrong?””
“I didn't know.””
“Who else was there?””
“Margaret.””
“And Matthew.””
“Yes.””
“Where were they?””
“Upstairs.””
I stared at her.
“You went upstairs?””
“Yes.””
“What did you see?””
She swallowed.
“Margaret was crying.””
“Why?””
“She was holding Matthew.””
“Was he asleep?””
“No.””
“Was he hurt?””
“No.””
“Then what?””
Evelyn's voice dropped to a whisper.
“He was terrified.””
My chest tightened.
“What did he say?””
“He asked where his father was.””
I closed my eyes.
“I was outside.””
“Yes.””
“What happened next?””
“There was shouting.””
“Between who?””
“Margaret and Michael.””
I opened my eyes.
“My brother was there?””
“Yes.””
“Inside the house?””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn't I see him?””
“Because you weren't supposed to know.””
My jaw tightened.
“Why?””
“Because Michael had been blackmailing your father.””
I stepped back.
“What did he have?””
“Financial records.””
“Of what?””
“Money your father had hidden.””
“What does that have to do with Matthew?””
“It was leverage.””
I stared at her.
“My brother used my son as leverage?””
“No.””
The answer came firmly.
“Michael wanted you.””
“What does that mean?””
“He wanted you to sign something.””
“What?””
“Your controlling interest in Vance Development.””
I laughed in disbelief.
“Twenty-five years ago, Vance Development wasn't worth—”
“Not the company,” Evelyn said.
“The land.””
I frowned.
“What land?””
“The Riverside parcels.””
I froze.
The Riverside project.
My first major development.
The project that had changed everything.
The project that had made Vance Development what it was.
At the time, I had always believed the deal had been a stroke of luck.
Three blocks of abandoned industrial property.
Bought cheap.
Rezoned.
Sold to a national retailer.
That one transaction had made me millions.
“Those parcels were worth nothing.””
“No,” Evelyn said.
“They were worth billions to the wrong people.””
Daniel nodded slowly.
“She’s right.””
I looked at him.
“Why?””
“Because of the infrastructure beneath them.””
“What infrastructure?””
Daniel hesitated.
“Underground utility corridors. Water access. A future transit route. The city had plans nobody outside a small group knew about.””
I looked at Evelyn.
“So Michael wanted the land.””
“He wanted your signature.””
“And I refused.””
“Yes.””
“What happened?””
“You agreed to meet him at the lake house.””
I shook my head.
“I don't remember.””
“I know.””
“Why would I agree?””
“Because Michael threatened Margaret.””
My throat tightened.
“What did he threaten?””
“He said if you didn't cooperate, he'd hurt her.””
“And Matthew?””
“He was there because Margaret couldn't leave him alone.””
I stared at the floor.
A memory surfaced.
A child's voice.
Daddy?
I shut my eyes.
“Continue.””
Evelyn took a breath.
“Michael arrived before you did. Margaret confronted him. She had discovered what he had done with the accounts.””
“What had he done?””
“He'd been stealing from people.””
“How much?””
“Millions.””
“And Margaret found out?””
“Yes.””
“What happened?””
“Michael became violent.””
My fists clenched.
“Did he hurt her?””
“No.””
“Then?””
“He grabbed Matthew.””
The room seemed to disappear.
“He grabbed my son?””
“Yes.””
“What did he do?””
“He threatened to take him.””
I couldn't breathe.
“Then what?””
“I stepped between them.””
Evelyn looked straight at me.
“I told Michael he couldn't do it.””
“What happened?””
“He shoved me.””
“You fought him?””
“Yes.””
“Then?””
“Margaret got Matthew away.””
“And Michael?””
“He ran downstairs.””
“Where were you?””
“With Margaret.””
“Where was Matthew?””
“In the hallway.””
“Alive?””
“Yes.””
I stared at her.
“What happened next?””
She started crying.
“The smoke came first.””
I went still.
“The fire?””
“Yes.””
“Who started it?””
“I don't know.””
“You were there.””
“I saw the flames, but I didn't see who started them.””
“Where was Michael?””
“Gone.””
“Where was Margaret?””
“Trying to get Matthew out.””
“And you?””
“I ran after them.””
My voice was barely audible.
“Then why did only Matthew die?””
Evelyn covered her face.
“Because the back door was locked.””
“Who locked it?””
“I don't know.””
“You expect me to believe that?””
“I tried to open it.””
“With what?””
“My hands.””
Her voice broke.
“I burned them.””
I looked at her hands.
There were no visible scars.
But then I remembered the first time we met.
She had refused to shake hands for almost a full minute because she'd been wearing gloves.
I had thought it was quirky.
Not anymore.
“What happened to Matthew?””
Evelyn cried silently.
“He gave me the toy airplane.””
I stopped.
“The airplane?””
She nodded.
“He told me to give it to you.””
My chest contracted.
“What did he say?””
She looked at me.
“He said, ‘Tell Daddy I waited.’”
I couldn't breathe.
Twenty-five years.
That sentence had waited twenty-five years to reach me.
I turned away.
For the first time since Margaret died, I allowed myself to remember.
Not the funeral.
Not the hospital.
Him.
Matthew running across the grass near the lake.
Matthew climbing into my lap.
Matthew insisting I help him build the wooden airplane kit he'd gotten for Christmas.
Matthew shouting, “Higher, Daddy!””
I remembered.
Fragments.
Enough to hurt.
Enough to prove he had existed.
Behind me, Evelyn whispered, “There’s more.””
I turned.
“What?””
“The reason Margaret distrusted me.””
“Because you were there?””
“No.””
“Then why?””
“Because she believed I helped cause the fire.””
My eyes narrowed.
“Did you?””
“No.””
“Are you sure?””
“Yes.””
“Then prove it.””
She stared at me.
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because the person who could prove it is dead.””
“Who?””
“Richard Hale.””
I remembered the name again.
My supposed partner.
The man who supposedly died in the fire.
“What did Richard do?””
“He started the fire.””
My stomach dropped.
“And Michael?””
“He was trying to stop him.””
I stared at her.
“That contradicts everything you just told me.””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“Michael wasn't the one who wanted you dead.””
“Then who was?””
Evelyn's lips trembled.
“Richard.””
“But Richard died.””
“Yes.””
“Then why did Michael send me his photograph?””
“I don't know.””
Daniel suddenly looked down at his phone.
His face changed.
“What?”” I asked.
He didn't answer.
He showed me the screen.
A security alert had just come through from the hotel.
Someone had entered the underground parking garage using an old service entrance.
Daniel enlarged the surveillance image.
A man in a dark coat was walking toward the elevators.
The same scar.
The same eyes.
Michael.
Then the camera captured his face fully.
And this time, beneath the image, a second notification appeared.
*PRIVATE MESSAGE FROM MICHAEL VANCE*
Daniel opened it.
Only five words appeared.
*Thomas, Evelyn is not the killer.*
I stared at the screen.
A second message arrived immediately.
May you like
*But she knows who is.*
And then the hotel lights went out.
