My Son Threw Me Into the Amazon River to Steal My Two-Billion-Dollar Empire—But He Made One Fatal Mistake

Margaret found Daniel Price at 7:15 the following morning.

He wasn't in Virginia.

He was living in a small apartment outside Atlanta under his wife's maiden name.

He had changed jobs, moved twice, and never renewed his original driver's license.

When Margaret told him that Eleanor Whitmore was alive and wanted to speak with him, he refused.

He hung up.

She called again.

He switched off his phone.

On the third attempt, he answered with one condition.

He would meet me only if I came alone.

I laughed when Margaret told me.

“After everything that has happened, he thinks I'm the dangerous one?””

“Apparently, he's terrified.””

“Then he knows something.””

“Eleanor, I don't like this.””

“Neither do I.””

I looked at Mateo.

He was packing his equipment into a small backpack.

“I'm coming with you,” he said.

I nodded.

We arranged a meeting at a roadside restaurant outside Atlanta.

Margaret sent a private investigator ahead to check the location. I refused to involve local police until we knew whether Daniel was telling the truth.

At eleven, I entered the restaurant.

Daniel was sitting in the last booth.

He looked older than I expected.

His hair had turned almost completely gray. His hands trembled around a coffee cup.

When he saw me, he stood.

“Mrs. Whitmore?””

“Yes.””

He looked toward Mateo.

“You said you were coming alone.””

“This is Mateo. He's helping me.””

Daniel frowned.

“I can't talk if there are other people.””

“Then you can leave,” I replied.

He looked at me for several seconds.

Finally, he sat down.

I took the opposite seat.

“Tell me about my daughter.””

Daniel stared into his coffee.

“I didn't kill her.””

“I never said you did.””

“Your husband told people I was responsible.””

My chest tightened.

“Richard?””

Daniel nodded.

“He said I had sabotaged the car because Catherine owed me money.””

“That is a lie.””

“I know.””

“Then why didn't you come forward?””

Daniel laughed bitterly.

“Because I have a wife and two children, Mrs. Whitmore. And because your son came to my house with two men who knew where my children went to school.””

I felt sick.

“Julian threatened your family?””

“He told me that accidents happen to people who talk too much.””

I stared at him.

“Did you damage Catherine's brakes?””

“No.””

“Who did?””

Daniel rubbed his forehead.

“I don't know who physically did it. But I know who ordered the work.””

I leaned forward.

“Tell me.””

He reached into his jacket and removed a small envelope.

Inside was a photograph of a work order.

The vehicle identification number belonged to Catherine's car.

The service date was two days before her death.

The authorization line contained a name.

Richard Whitmore.

My husband.

I stared at the document.

Daniel spoke quietly.

“He brought the car in himself. Said it needed a private inspection.””

“Why would he bring her car to you?””

“I was working at a garage owned by a company that serviced Whitmore Global vehicles. He said Catherine had been having problems with the brakes.””

“But she hadn't.””

“No. At least, she hadn't told me about any.””

“Then what happened?””

Daniel swallowed.

“Richard asked me to replace a component in the braking system. He gave me a separate instruction sheet. It said the replacement part had to be installed incorrectly.””

My hands went cold.

“Did you do it?””

“No.””

“Why not?””

“Because I knew Catherine. She used to bring me Christmas gifts for my children. She was a good person.””

He looked away.

“I refused.””

I felt my heart pounding.

“What happened next?””

“Richard told me I was making a mistake. He said it was a private family matter.””

“And you?””

“I told him to take the car somewhere else.””

Daniel opened the envelope again.

“There was a camera in the garage. I copied the footage before they could erase it.””

I stared at him.

“You have video?””

He nodded.

“I kept it because I knew something terrible was coming.””

“Where is it?””

“On a storage drive.””

“Where?””

Daniel looked around the restaurant.

“Richmond.””

My jaw tightened.

“Why?””

“Because I hid it in a storage unit under a false name. I didn't want anyone connecting it to me.””

I leaned forward.

“Daniel, does the footage show Richard?””

“Yes.””

“Does it show him tampering with my daughter's car?””

Daniel hesitated.

“It shows him entering the workshop with another man.””

“Who?””

He slid another photograph across the table.

The image was grainy, but the man's face was visible.

Julian.

My son.

He had been standing beside Richard in the garage twelve years earlier.

I couldn't breathe.

Daniel looked at me.

“I'm sorry.””

I stared at the photograph.

“Was he there when the work was done?””

“Yes.””

“Did he help?””

“I don't know. But he was there.””

I felt something inside me collapse.

Julian had been twenty-eight.

Young enough to make terrible mistakes.

Old enough to understand murder.

“Why didn't you go to the police?””

Daniel looked at me with exhausted eyes.

“Because your husband had friends in the department. And because the first time I tried, someone broke into my house.””

“Did they take anything?””

“No.””

“Then what did they do?””

“They left a photograph of my daughter on her school bus.””

I covered my mouth.

Daniel continued.

“I understood the message.””

I looked at him.

“You said the footage is in Richmond?””

“Yes.””

“Take me there.””

He shook his head.

“Not today.””

“Why?””

“Because I received a message last night.””

He removed his phone.

The message contained a photograph of his apartment building.

Taken from across the street.

Beneath it were six words.

*Stop talking. We know where you are.*

I looked at Mateo.

His expression had hardened.

“We need to move,” he said.

Daniel nodded.

“They found me.””

I turned toward the restaurant window.

A black SUV was parked across the road.

Its engine was running.

The driver's window was open.

A man sat behind the wheel, watching us.

“Daniel,” I whispered.

“Is that the person who threatened you?””

He looked.

Then his face drained of color.

“That's one of them.””

Mateo stood immediately.

“Back exit. Now.””

We moved through the kitchen.

A waitress shouted after us.

I heard a car door slam outside.

Then footsteps.

Mateo pushed open the rear exit.

“Keep moving.””

We ran into an alley.

My shoulder screamed.

I stumbled.

Mateo caught my arm.

Behind us, a man shouted.

“Stop!””

Daniel grabbed my other hand.

“There's a car around the corner!””

We reached the street.

A gray sedan was waiting.

The driver was Margaret's investigator.

He unlocked the doors.

We climbed inside.

A second later, a black SUV appeared at the end of the street.

It accelerated toward us.

The investigator slammed the accelerator.

The sedan shot forward.

I looked through the rear window.

The SUV followed.

For several terrifying minutes, neither driver spoke.

Finally, we turned onto a busy highway.

The SUV disappeared.

Daniel sat beside me, shaking.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered.

“Don't apologize.””

“You should have stayed away from me.””

I turned toward him.

“Daniel, my daughter is dead. My son tried to kill me. My husband has spent twelve years hiding what happened.””

I looked directly into his eyes.

“I am not going home until I know the truth.””

An hour later, we reached a secure apartment Margaret had arranged.

She was waiting inside.

When she saw Daniel, she nearly dropped her briefcase.

“You actually found him.””

“He found me,” I replied.

Daniel handed her the envelope.

“There's a storage unit in Richmond. Number 417. The key is inside.””

Margaret took it.

“I'll arrange for the drive to be recovered.””

Daniel shook his head.

“Don't send anyone from the company.””

“Why?””

“Because the person who owns the storage facility works for Whitmore Global.””

I frowned.

“Who?””

Daniel looked at me.

“Your head of corporate security.””

My stomach tightened.

“Victor Shaw?””

Daniel nodded.

Victor had been with the company for nineteen years.

He was the man I had trusted with my personal protection.

He had accompanied me on international trips.

He had personally supervised the security upgrades at my estate.

And he had been responsible for protecting me during the Amazon trip.

“Are you certain?”” I asked.

Daniel pulled out another photograph.

It showed Victor standing beside the black SUV outside the restaurant.

I stared at the image.

“Why is he following you?””

Daniel looked down.

“Because he was the other man in the garage.””

My throat tightened.

The man who had stood beside Richard while Catherine's car was being serviced.

The man who had threatened Daniel's family.

The man responsible for protecting me.

I turned toward Margaret.

“Cancel every security authorization Victor has.””

“I'll do it.””

“Also, find out where he is right now.””

Margaret opened her laptop.

Her expression changed.

“What?””

She turned the screen toward me.

A message had just arrived from Whitmore Global's security system.

*Victor Shaw has accessed the executive archive.*

I stared.

“What is he looking for?””

Margaret checked the access log.

Then she went completely still.

“He's searching for Catherine's original personnel file.””

“Why would my daughter have a personnel file?””

Margaret looked up.

“Because she worked for Whitmore Global before she died.””

I frowned.

“No, she didn't. She volunteered with the foundation.””

Margaret shook her head.

“Eleanor, I found something in the archived payroll records.””

“What?””

“Catherine was employed as an internal auditor for three months.””

I stared at her.

That couldn't be right.

Catherine had never told me.

Margaret continued.

“She resigned two weeks before her death.””

“Why?””

Margaret opened another document.

Her face went pale.

“Because she discovered a forty-million-dollar discrepancy in the Whitmore Foundation accounts.””

I sat down.

Forty million dollars.

The same amount that had recently disappeared through Northstar Holdings.

I looked at Daniel.

“Was Catherine investigating Richard?””

He nodded.

“She told me she was afraid her father had stolen money from the foundation.””

My hands began trembling.

Then Margaret opened the last file.

It contained a scanned resignation letter.

The final paragraph was handwritten.

I recognized Catherine's words immediately.

*I cannot continue working in a company where the people responsible for protecting this family are the same people stealing from it. If my father refuses to explain the missing money, I will take the evidence to the authorities.*

I covered my mouth.

My daughter had tried to stop them.

And they had silenced her.

Then Margaret's phone rang.

She answered.

Listened.

And slowly looked at me.

“What happened?”” I asked.

She ended the call.

“Victor has just entered your Virginia estate.””

“Why?””