Chapter 7: The Page They Were Desperate to Hide
“Why would Uncle Ethan care whether I see page seven?””
I stood beside the bedroom doorway, staring at the blue folder in Patricia's hands.
My father's younger brother had been part of nearly every important moment in my life. He had carried me on his shoulders at the county fair, taught me to ride a bicycle, and shown up with pizza whenever Dad worked late. After my mother died, he became the closest thing I had to another parent.
Now his name appeared beside Denise's and Richard Cole's in a record of suspicious financial transfers.
And he had just warned Dad not to let me see something.
Dad read his brother's message again.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
“I'm calling him.””
Patricia immediately shook her head.
“Not yet. We need to preserve these records before anyone has an opportunity to change their story.””
“He's my brother.””
“And if he is involved, that relationship makes it even more important that you proceed carefully.””
Dad looked down at the blue folder.
For several seconds, he seemed torn between the man he had trusted for decades and the evidence lying in front of him.
Finally, he lowered the phone.
“What do you recommend?””
“Make copies of everything. Contact your company's accountant independently. And don't accuse anyone until we understand the transactions.””
Patricia placed the folder on the bed and began photographing each page.
I watched her work.
The missing seventh page bothered me more than anything else. Whoever had removed it had known precisely which document mattered.
“Could the page have been taken accidentally?”” I asked.
Patricia glanced up.
“It's possible. But your uncle's message suggests he knows what was on it.””
Dad paced toward the window.
“Ethan has been helping with our subcontractors for almost two years. He handles invoices and verifies payments when I'm on-site.””
“Did he have authority to transfer money?”” Patricia asked.
“Only for approved expenses. Anything above five thousand dollars requires my authorization.””
She looked at the spreadsheet again.
“Several of these transfers exceed that amount.””
Dad's face hardened.
“Then someone bypassed the approval process.””
My phone vibrated.
Jordan.
*Mom says I need to get the car today. She says Dad can't stop it because the paperwork is already finished.*
I typed back.
*The dealership froze the paperwork. Don't touch the car.*
His response came almost immediately.
*You don't understand. She says if I don't get the car, she'll tell Dad everything I did.*
I stared at the message.
For the first time, I wondered whether Jordan was frightened of my father or frightened of his own mother.
I called him.
He answered on the second ring.
“Maya?””
“Where are you?””
“At home.””
“Is Mom there?””
“No. She called me.””
“What did she say about the car?””
He exhaled sharply.
“She said I have to take it before Dad cancels everything.””
“Jordan, the dealership has frozen the transaction. You can't take it.””
“I know that now!””
“Then why are you still talking about it?””
“Because she said the car is the least of our problems.””
I looked at Dad.
He stopped pacing.
“What did she mean?”” I asked.
Jordan's voice dropped.
“She said Dad is going to lose his construction company. She said if he tries to blame her, he'll go down with her.””
Dad took the phone from my hand.
“Jordan, this is your father.””
Silence.
“Dad?””
“Tell me exactly what Denise said.””
Jordan hesitated.
“She said the transfers were approved through the company. She said Uncle Ethan signed the records. And she said you knew about the money.””
Dad closed his eyes.
“Did she show you anything?””
“No.””
“Did you see any documents?””
“Just the ones in the car folder.””
“What documents?””
Jordan was quiet for so long that I thought the call had dropped.
Then he said, “A contract. It had your signature on it.””
Dad gripped the phone.
“Where is that contract?””
“Mom has it.””
“Do you know what it says?””
“No. I only saw the first page.””
“Jordan, listen carefully. Did you know the college money came from Maya's education account?””
A pause.
“Yes.””
Dad's expression tightened.
“Did you know the car paperwork used that money?””
“Yes.””
“And you accepted it anyway?””
Jordan's voice cracked.
“I thought Mom was going to put the money back!””
“That doesn't answer my question.””
“I know, Dad. I know I messed up.””
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Dad said, “You need to tell the truth about everything you know. No more lies. No more protecting anyone.””
“I will.””
“Where are you right now?””
“In my room.””
“Stay there. I'm coming to speak with you.””
Dad ended the call.
Patricia had finished photographing the documents.
She closed the folder and handed it to Dad.
“I'll arrange for a forensic accountant to review these transactions. In the meantime, don't sign anything Denise or Richard sends you.””
Dad nodded.
Then he looked at me.
“Come with me.””
We drove to Jordan's house—though calling it that felt strange, because it was still our home, and Denise had lived there for years.
Jordan was waiting on the front porch.
His eyes were red, and his hair stood up in uneven tufts, as if he'd been pulling at it all morning.
When he saw Dad, he stepped forward.
“I didn't know how bad it was.””
Dad stopped in front of him.
“You knew enough to accept money that belonged to your sister.””
Jordan looked down.
“I know.””
“You knew enough to take the car.””
“I know.””
“And you kept quiet because you thought your mother would protect you.””
Jordan's face crumpled.
“Yes.””
Dad's anger seemed to falter for a moment.
Then he said, “I love you, Jordan. But love doesn't mean I will pretend you did nothing wrong.””
Jordan nodded, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
“I understand.””
“Do you?””
“Yes.””
Dad took a breath.
“Tell me about the contract.””
Jordan led us inside.
He opened his laptop and searched through his downloads.
After several minutes, he found a photograph of a document.
“I took this when Mom asked me to help organize the car paperwork,” he explained.
“I thought it was just another form.””
The photograph showed the first page of an agreement between Williams Construction and Northbridge Holdings.
The document described a loan arrangement secured by company assets.
At the bottom was Dad's signature.
It looked authentic.
Too authentic.
I leaned closer.
“Could someone have copied it from another document?””
Patricia wasn't there to answer, but Dad seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“Possibly.””
Jordan scrolled down.
“There's another picture.””
The second image showed a page listing the proposed terms.
A third image showed a signature block.
But there was no page seven.
“Where did you get these?”” Dad asked.
“From Mom's laptop. I sent them to myself because I thought I might need them if the business failed.””
Dad stared at him.
“You thought the business might fail?””
Jordan swallowed.
“Mom said there was a chance.””
“And you didn't tell me?””
“I thought she was helping me build something of my own. I didn't want to lose the opportunity.””
Dad turned away.
I watched my stepbrother's shoulders slump.
For the first time, he looked less like the spoiled boy who had stolen my car and more like someone who had discovered that the person he trusted most had been using him.
“Jordan,” I said quietly, “why did you laugh at me in the driveway?””
He looked at me.
“I don't know.””
“You watched Mom take something Dad promised me. You knew how much it meant to me.””
His eyes filled again.
“I wanted to believe I deserved it.””
“That isn't an answer.””
He lowered his head.
“I was jealous of you. You always did everything right. Dad was proud of you.
Everyone was proud of you. I thought if I got the car, maybe for once I'd have something that made me feel important.””
I stared at him.
“You could have worked for something.””
“I know.””
“You could have asked Dad for help.””
“I know.””
“You didn't have to take from me.””
His face crumpled.
“No. I didn't.””
I wanted to forgive him.
But I wasn't ready.
Dad took the laptop and carefully copied the photographs to a secure drive.
“We're going to give these to the attorney,” he said.
“And until we know what's happening, nobody signs anything.””
Jordan nodded.
Then his phone rang.
Denise.
He looked at Dad.
“Answer it,” Dad said.
Jordan put the call on speaker.
“Hello, Mom.””
Her voice was sharp.
“Did you get the car?””
“No.””
“Why not?””
“Dad froze the paperwork.””
A pause.
Then she said, “I knew he'd turn you against me.””
Jordan swallowed.
“Mom, I saw the contract.””
The silence that followed was chilling.
“What contract?””
“The one with Dad's signature. The one involving the construction company.””
Denise's voice dropped.
“Where did you see that?””
“On your laptop.””
“You had no right to look through my files.””
Jordan looked at Dad.
“I sent the pictures to myself.””
A sharp, furious breath came through the speaker.
“You did what?””
“I sent them to Maya.””
Denise began shouting.
“You ungrateful little—”
She stopped abruptly.
Then her voice became eerily calm.
“Jordan, listen to me. Your father is going to destroy everything if he keeps digging. You need to tell him that the contract was approved.””
“But he says he never signed it.””
“Then he's lying.””
Dad stepped forward.
“Denise, this is Marcus.””
Silence.
“I want you to tell me where the original contract is.””
She laughed nervously.
“I don't know what you're talking about.””
“Your son has photographs of it.””
“Photographs can be manipulated.””
“Did you forge my signature?””
Her voice turned icy.
“You should be careful what you accuse me of.””
Dad looked at me.
Then he said, “I'm giving you one chance to tell the truth.””
Denise didn't answer.
Instead, she said something that made Jordan stand abruptly.
“If you want the original, ask Ethan what he did with page seven.””
The call ended.
Dad lowered the phone.
For several seconds, he stood motionless.
Then he looked at Jordan.
“Do you know where your mother is?””
Jordan shook his head.
“No.””
Dad turned toward the door.
“We're going to find out.””
As we stepped onto the porch, a car pulled into the street.
It was Uncle Ethan's silver SUV.
He stopped beside the curb and lowered the window.
His face was pale.
“Marcus,” he said, “we need to talk.””
Dad walked toward him.
“About page seven?””
Ethan's expression collapsed.
And before he could answer, another car turned into the street behind him.
A black sedan.
Richard Cole was driving.
Neither man looked surprised to see the other.
That was when I understood.
They hadn't come separately.
May you like
They had come together.
And whatever they were about to tell my father, they had clearly rehearsed it.
