Chapter 6 - THE MAN FROM THE FUNERAL
Richard arrived with police nine minutes later.
It felt like nine years.
The penthouse door was open.
One member of Richard's private security team lay conscious but dazed near the kitchen.
No twins crying.
No Isabella.
Richard's heart stopped.
“Isabella!”
Detective Rodriguez grabbed his arm.
“Stay behind us.”
“My kids are—”
He stopped.
My kids.
The words had escaped without permission.
Rodriguez noticed.
She said nothing.
Officers cleared the living room.
Kitchen.
Hallway.
Then a sound came from Richard's bedroom closet.
A baby.
Michael.
Richard ran.
The closet door opened from inside.
Isabella emerged holding Ryan.
Michael was strapped to her chest using one of the scarves from the abandoned building.
She was shaking violently.
Richard dropped to his knees.
“You're okay.”
She stared at him.
“You came.”
“Of course I came.”
Then she started crying.
He pulled all three children against him.
For once, he didn't care who saw.
The intruder was gone.
But he had left something behind.
A photograph placed on Richard's bed.
Constance Bell's funeral.
Isabella standing alone near a cheap wooden casket.
In the background:
Daniel Crowe.
Richard stared.
“He attended?”
Isabella nodded.
“He said he knew Mommy from work.”
“Did he speak to you?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked where she kept her papers.”
Richard felt sick.
“What did you tell him?”
“That I didn't know.”
“Was that true?”
“Yes.”
Richard looked at her.
“You said you saw another man.”
“The one in the apartment?”
She nodded.
“Not Daniel?”
“No.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Old.”
“Hair?”
“Gray.”
“Anything else?”
“A ring.”
“What kind?”
“Green stone.”
Rodriguez's expression changed.
Richard noticed.
“You know it?”
“Maybe.”
She pulled out her phone.
Minutes later she showed Isabella several photographs.
The girl pointed immediately.
“Him.”
Richard looked.
Harold Stein.
Member of the Adams & Associates board.
The same man who had argued homeless families weren't the company's responsibility.
Richard felt as if the floor shifted.
“Harold?”
Rodriguez nodded.
“He owned a security consulting company before joining your board.”
“Why would he be at Constance's funeral?”
“That is what we'll ask him.”
They never got the chance.
Harold Stein disappeared before police reached his home.
His car was found abandoned near Lake Shore Drive.
Inside was a burner phone.
Messages between Harold and Daniel.
Thousands.
The conspiracy had not begun with Green View.
It had begun nine years earlier.
Daniel and Harold created shell subcontractors.
Invoices passed through Adams projects.
Funds were divided.
Evelyn discovered discrepancies.
She told Daniel she intended to tell Richard directly.
Three weeks later, she died.
Police reopened the case.
Richard read the messages in a private conference room.
One exchange was dated two days before Evelyn's death.
Harold:
E has copies.
Daniel:
Handle Denver.
Nothing explicit.
Nothing saying kill.
But Richard understood.
His sister had died because his two most trusted executives believed his ignorance was profitable.
He covered his face.
Rodriguez sat across from him.
“You didn't know.”
“I should have.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
“I built the system that let Daniel speak for me.”
“You also trusted a friend.”
“He killed my sister.”
“We don't know that yet.”
Richard looked up.
“I know.”
Police eventually located Daniel in a motel outside Milwaukee.
He was arrested carrying $180,000 in cash.
Harold remained missing.
Daniel requested an attorney.
Said nothing.
Until investigators mentioned Constance Bell.
Then he asked one question.
“Did the girl find the ledger?”
Richard was in the observation room when Rodriguez told him.
There it was.
Confirmation.
Not enough for court maybe.
Enough for Richard.
The blue notebook became key evidence.
Constance had documented years of payments.
More importantly, she included a handwritten entry from the week before her death:
H.S. came to shelter. Says D wants notebook. Told him I mailed copies to E's brother. Lie. Need time.
E's brother.
Richard.
Constance had tried to make them believe Richard already had copies.
She had put herself in greater danger to shield Isabella.
At home that evening, Isabella sat at the kitchen counter.
Michael and Ryan were asleep.
Richard made spaghetti.
Badly.
Isabella watched.
“You have someone who cooks.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you doing it?”
“I was informed normal families sometimes cook.”
“Who informed you?”
“The internet.”
She shook her head.
“Turn the heat down.”
Richard obeyed.
After dinner, Isabella said:
“Was the man who came here trying to take us?”
“I think he wanted to find out whether you had more evidence.”
“Would he hurt us?”
Richard considered lying.
“No.”
She stared at him.
He sighed.
“I don't know.”
“That's better.”
“What?”
“When adults say they don't know.”
Richard sat across from her.
“I need to ask you something.”
She immediately became suspicious.
“Okay.”
“Was there anything else your mother gave you?”
“No.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
Then she looked away.
Richard noticed.
“Isabella.”
“It's not evidence.”
“What is it?”
She went to her backpack.
From the bottom, she removed a sealed envelope.
For Richard Adams. Only if he helps you without knowing why.
Richard stared at his name.
His hands began shaking.
“When did she give this to you?”
“The night she died.”
“Why didn't you show me?”
“She said I had to decide if you were good.”
“And?”
Isabella shrugged.
“You're annoying.”
Richard almost laughed.
“But?”
“You came back.”
She handed him the envelope.
Inside was a letter.
Richard,
If Isabella gives you this, then somehow you found them before Daniel did.
You probably don't remember me beyond a personnel file. That's fine. I wasn't important to your company.
But Evelyn was important to you.
She tried to stop what Daniel was doing. I helped her collect records.
After she died, I became afraid.
I accepted no settlement. The signature is false.
Daniel used your name to make me disappear professionally. Then he made sure nobody would hire me.
If anything happens to me, protect my children from the people who did this.
Please don't separate them.
Isabella believes promises literally.
So if you promise, mean it.
Richard stopped reading.
His vision blurred.
The final paragraph was shorter.
Evelyn believed you were a good man who had become too busy to see what was happening underneath him.
Prove her right.
Richard lowered the letter.
Isabella watched carefully.
“What did she say?”
He couldn't speak for a moment.
Finally:
“She asked me to keep a promise.”
“What promise?”
He looked at her.
“That you stay together.”
Isabella's chin trembled.
“All three?”
“All three.”
“Forever?”
Richard's chest tightened.
“I can't decide forever by myself.”
Her face fell.
“But I can tell the court what I want.”
“What do you want?”
He looked toward the twins.
Then back at her.
“You.”
She stared.
“And Michael.”
Her eyes widened.
“And Ryan.”
“Why?”
Richard smiled faintly.
“Apparently my apartment needed more noise.”
She started crying.
He moved around the counter.
Before he could kneel, she threw her arms around him.
Richard froze.
Then held her.
For the first time in years, he understood something Evelyn had tried to tell him long ago.
Success could make a man feel responsible for everything while actually noticing almost nothing.
He had spent twenty years looking down at Chicago from the thirtieth floor.
Isabella had lived three floors above broken concrete.
They had occupied the same city.
Different worlds.
His phone rang.
Rodriguez.
Richard answered without releasing Isabella.
“We found Harold Stein.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
There was a pause.
“At Green View.”
Richard frowned.
“The construction site?”
“Yes.”
“What is he doing there?”
“He called 911 himself.”
“Why?”
Rodriguez's voice changed.
“He says Daniel ordered Evelyn's death.”
Richard went completely still.
May you like
“And he says he can prove it.”
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