Chapter 6: The Room Thomas Reed Locked Away
My father read the message three times.
Then he called Daniel.
“Where is Vanessa?””
“I don't know,” Daniel answered.
“Why?””
Dad sent him the photograph.
There was a pause.
“That's Thomas Reed's old office,” Daniel said.
My father looked at me.
“Can you confirm the address?””
Daniel read it aloud.
Dad grabbed his jacket.
“I'm going there.””
Uncle David stood up.
“Marcus, wait.””
“What?””
“Think. If Vanessa has the original document, she may be trying to get you to follow her.””
Dad glanced at the photograph again.
“She has the document and we have the key.””
“Exactly. Which means she may want both.””
I looked down at the silver key in my hand.
I suddenly understood something.
The message hadn't simply warned us.
It had told Vanessa that we had found the key.
Someone was watching us.
“Dad?””
He turned.
“What is it?””
“Does she know we found it?””
He looked at the message.
Then his expression changed.
“Yes.””
I put the key on the table.
“Then maybe we shouldn't go there.””
Uncle David nodded.
“Good thinking.””
Dad paced across the room.
Daniel spoke through the phone.
“Marcus, I'm contacting the police. Do not enter the building until we know what's happening.””
Dad took a breath.
“Fine.””
But his expression told me he hated waiting.
An hour later, we were sitting in Daniel's office.
The building where Thomas Reed had worked was an old brick property downtown. It had been closed since his death, although his firm still retained a small archive room there.
Daniel explained that the archive had been sealed after the estate settlement.
Only two people had authorization to access it.
Thomas's former assistant.
And the executor of his estate.
Dad frowned.
“Who is the executor?””
Daniel opened a folder.
“His sister, Margaret Reed.””
“Where is she?””
“She lives in Boston.””
Uncle David leaned forward.
“Then how did Vanessa get inside?””
Daniel turned the page.
“That's what concerns me.””
He showed Dad a printed access record.
Someone had entered the building at 8:15 that morning.
The authorization code belonged to Margaret.
But the signature was not hers.
Dad shook his head.
“She's being impersonated.””
“Possibly.””
I sat quietly, listening.
Then I noticed something.
“Why does the key say 08.42?””
Everyone looked at me.
Daniel raised his eyebrows.
“Good question.””
Dad picked up the key.
“Perhaps it's a time.””
“Like the photograph?””
I nodded.
“The photograph of Mom had 8:42 on it.””
Daniel looked at the key.
Then he looked at the photograph.
“That's not a coincidence.””
He stood and walked to the cabinet.
After searching for several minutes, he returned with a copy of Thomas Reed's old office floor plan.
He placed it on the table.
“Thomas was meticulous. He numbered everything.””
Dad studied the diagram.
“What's this room?””
Daniel pointed to a small rectangular space behind the main archive.
“Private records.””
“Can we access it?””
“With the proper authorization.””
Dad looked at the key.
“Then let's get it.””
Daniel shook his head.
“Not until the police confirm that the building is secure.””
At noon, we received another call.
This time, it was from Margaret Reed.
Daniel put her on speaker.
“Hello, Margaret. Thank you for calling.””
A woman's voice came through.
“Daniel, I received your message. What's happened?””
Daniel explained the attempted access.
She became increasingly upset.
“I haven't authorized anyone to enter that building.””
“Someone used your name.””
“That is impossible.””
“Do you still have the original access card?””
“Yes.””
“Where is it?””
“In my desk drawer. I've never given it to anyone.””
Daniel looked at Dad.
“Margaret, did Thomas ever mention a sealed room?””
There was a pause.
Then she answered.
“Yes.””
Dad leaned forward.
“What was inside?””
“I don't know. Thomas told me it contained private material belonging to a client.””
“Who?””
Another pause.
“Sarah.””
My father closed his eyes.
Margaret continued.
“Your wife came to see Thomas several times before she died. He was worried about her.””
Dad's voice became quiet.
“Why?””
“She believed someone was trying to access her trust.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Did she tell him who?””
Margaret hesitated.
Then she said:
“Yes.””
Dad sat up.
“Who?””
Margaret's answer was barely audible.
“Vanessa.””
The room went silent.
I looked at Dad.
He stared at the phone.
“Are you certain?””
“I have a letter from Thomas. He instructed me not to release it unless someone attempted to access Sarah's sealed records.””
Daniel leaned forward.
“Do you still have the letter?””
“Yes.””
“Can you send us a copy?””
“I can.””
She paused.
Then she added:
“There is something else.””
Dad waited.
“Thomas told me that Sarah believed her life was in danger.””
My father's face went pale.
“What?””
“She told Thomas that someone had been following her.””
I looked at the photograph on the table.
Mom.
The dark car.
The man holding the folder.
And the timestamp.
8:42 p.m.
“Did she tell him who was following her?”” Dad asked.
Margaret took a breath.
“She said it was someone she trusted.””
At three that afternoon, the police confirmed that the building was secure.
Daniel arranged for Margaret to provide written authorization.
Dad insisted on coming with us.
Uncle David came too.
I was supposed to stay in the car.
But when we reached the building, I noticed something strange.
The front entrance was locked.
A strip of yellow tape crossed the side door.
And on the glass was a handwritten notice.
*ARCHIVE CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.*
Dad looked at Daniel.
“Someone has been here.””
Daniel nodded.
“Stay behind me.””
We entered with a police officer.
The building smelled of dust, old paper, and damp wood.
Our footsteps echoed along the hallway.
At the end was Thomas Reed's office.
The nameplate was still attached to the door.
Inside, everything looked untouched.
A leather chair stood behind the desk.
A row of law books covered one wall.
There was a photograph of Thomas and Mom on a shelf.
I stopped.
Mom was smiling.
Thomas was standing beside her.
They looked happy.
Not frightened.
Not worried.
Just two people who trusted each other.
Dad picked up the photograph.
“Your mother liked this one.””
I looked at the desk.
“Where's the private room?””
Daniel walked toward a large bookshelf.
He ran his fingers along the wooden frame.
Then he stopped.
“Here.””
A small metal keyhole was hidden behind a decorative panel.
Dad took the silver key from his pocket.
He inserted it.
It turned smoothly.
There was a click.
The bookshelf shifted forward.
Behind it was a narrow doorway.
I stared.
A hidden room.
The walls were covered with shelves.
There were labeled boxes, old folders, and several locked cabinets.
Dad stepped inside.
“Sarah.””
He whispered my mother's name.
It sounded like he was greeting someone.
Daniel examined the shelves.
“Thomas organized everything by date.””
Uncle David moved toward the far wall.
“Marcus.””
He pointed to a small wooden box.
It had my name written on it.
*JORDAN — DO NOT OPEN UNTIL THE SECOND KEY IS FOUND.*
I walked toward it.
My heart was beating so hard I could hear it.
Dad crouched beside me.
“It's okay.””
He opened the box.
Inside was a second envelope.
And beneath it, a small silver photograph frame.
The envelope had my mother's handwriting.
For Jordan, when he is old enough to understand.
I touched the paper.
“Can I read it?””
Dad nodded.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter.
My sweet Jordan,
If this letter has reached you, then someone has finally found the truth I tried to protect.
I need you to know that nothing that happens between adults is ever your fault.
Not the arguments. Not the secrets. Not the choices people make.
I love your father, and I trust him with your future. But there is something he doesn't know.
I stopped.
Dad looked at me.
“What is it?””
I continued.
The person who has been trying to steal from us is not working alone.
My fingers trembled.
I read the next line.
There is someone inside our family who has been helping her.
Dad's expression changed.
Uncle David stepped closer.
“Who?””
I turned the page.
There was another sentence.
If you ever discover the identity of that person, do not confront them alone.
At the bottom was a name.
I read it.
Then I looked up at Uncle David.
He had gone completely pale.
Because the name written on my mother's letter was his.
*DAVID.*
For a moment, nobody moved.
Dad slowly turned toward his brother.
“David?””
Uncle David stared at the paper.
Then he shook his head.
“No.””
Dad's voice was barely audible.
“Tell me this isn't true.””
David looked at me.
Then at the letter.
His hands began to tremble.
“Marcus, I can explain.””
Dad stepped forward.
“Explain what?””
David swallowed.
And then he said the one thing I never expected to hear.
“Your mother asked me to help her hide the trust.””
Dad froze.
“What?””
David looked directly at him.
“Because she believed you were the person Vanessa was trying to reach.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I looked at Dad.
Then at Uncle David.
My father took one step backward.
“Are you saying Sarah didn't trust me?””
David shook his head quickly.
“No. I'm saying she knew Vanessa was using you.””
Dad's voice cracked.
“Then why is your name on that letter?””
David looked at the envelope again.
“I don't know.””
He reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.
“There's something I never told you about the night Sarah died.””
Dad stared at him.
“What?””
David's eyes filled.
“I was the last person she called before the accident.””
I held the edge of the desk.
“What did Mom say?””
David looked at me.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
Then he whispered:
“She said, 'David, if anything happens to me, make sure Jordan never finds out what his father did.''”
Dad's face went completely white.
And before he could respond, the lights in the archive room went out.
A door slammed somewhere in the hallway.
Daniel shouted for everyone to stay where they were.
Then my father's phone lit up.
A new message had arrived.
May you like
It was from Vanessa.
*I told you not to look for the second key. Now ask your brother what happened at 8:42.*
