Chapter 5: Lauren Knew Where The Original Contract Was Hidden
Chapter 5: Lauren Knew Where The Original Contract Was Hidden
I looked at Lauren.
She looked back at me.
For several seconds, neither of us said anything.
Then she whispered,
“I didn’t tell anyone.”
My business partner laughed nervously.
“That isn’t what he said.”
Lauren turned toward him.
“What exactly are you implying?”
He didn’t answer.
One of the officers stepped between us.
“Everyone needs to calm down.”
But I couldn’t.
The original contract was locked inside my home office.
It wasn’t stored digitally.
It wasn’t in the company system.
It was inside a small fireproof box hidden behind a row of old accounting files.
Lauren was the only person who knew where it was.
I looked at her.
“Did you go into my office?”
Her eyes widened.
“No.”
“When?”
“I didn’t.”
“Lauren, someone knew exactly where that contract was.”
She shook her head.
“I swear I never touched it.”
Rachel interrupted.
“Wait.”
Everyone turned toward her.
She opened the photograph again.
“Look at the timestamp.”
I leaned closer.
The photograph of the attorney entering the private office had been taken six months ago.
But something was wrong.
The timestamp wasn’t six months old.
It had been modified.
Rachel zoomed in.
“This image was edited.”
David immediately asked,
“How can you tell?”
“The metadata.”
She showed us the original information.
“The file was created last night.”
My heart sank.
Someone had deliberately manufactured the photograph.
The attorney might still be involved.
But this photograph wasn’t proof.
My business partner looked relieved.
Rachel noticed.
“You knew that.”
He didn’t answer.
“You knew the photograph was fake.”
His expression hardened.
“You’re making accusations without evidence.”
Rachel smiled faintly.
“No.”
She opened another file.
“I’m showing you evidence.”
It was a security recording.
A man entered my house two nights earlier.
He wore a dark jacket and baseball cap.
His face wasn’t visible.
But the security system captured his access code.
I stared at the screen.
The code belonged to Lauren.
She stepped backward.
“No.”
My business partner immediately said,
“That proves it.”
I looked at Lauren.
She was shaking her head.
“I didn’t give anyone my code.”
Rachel paused the video.
“That’s because the code wasn’t entered manually.”
Everyone stared at her.
She enlarged the image.
“A cloned remote.”
David looked confused.
“Could someone duplicate the signal?”
Rachel nodded.
“Apparently.”
The room went silent.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
Stop looking for the contract.
There was no number.
I showed it to Rachel.
She read it twice.
Then another message appeared.
You already have enough to lose everything.
Lauren looked at me.
“Who is doing this?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know.”
Then a third message arrived.
Ask Lauren about the night your father died.
I froze.
Lauren’s face changed immediately.
Rachel noticed.
“So you do know something.”
Lauren stepped away from the table.
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
I stared at her.
“My father died eight years ago.”
She nodded.
“And?”
Lauren’s eyes filled with tears.
“Your father wasn’t supposed to be driving that night.”
My chest tightened.
“What are you talking about?”
She looked at me.
“He had been drinking.”
I shook my head.
“That isn’t what the police report said.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you telling me this now?”
She lowered her voice.
“Because the police report was changed.”
Nobody spoke.
David looked stunned.
“Changed by whom?”
Lauren looked toward the door.
“Your business partner.”
I felt as if the floor had disappeared beneath me.
“My partner wasn’t involved with my family.”
“He was.”
“How?”
Lauren wiped her eyes.
“Your father discovered financial irregularities in his company.”
I stared at her.
“What company?”
“The company that eventually became yours.”
Rachel slowly sat down.
“So this goes back that far.”
Lauren nodded.
“Your father was going to report him.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“What happened?”
Lauren looked at me.
“The night your father died, he was supposed to meet an investigator.”
My hands tightened.
“Did he make it?”
“No.”
The room became completely silent.
I suddenly remembered my mother’s words from years ago.
She had always said my father’s death was an accident.
A tragic accident.
Nothing more.
Lauren continued.
“Your father left one copy of the financial records with someone he trusted.”
I whispered,
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“My father.”
I stared at her.
Her father had possessed the records.
The same father whose account had received hundreds of thousands of dollars.
The same father connected to Michael.
The same father whose attorney had access to my company’s original documents.
Everything was finally connecting.
But then Lauren said something I hadn’t expected.
“My father wasn’t the one who killed him.”
I looked at her.
“Then who did?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Rachel suddenly stood.
“I do.”
Everyone turned toward her.
She pulled out another photograph.
This one was old.
Very old.
It showed three men standing outside an office.
My father.
Lauren’s father.
And my business partner.
I stared at the photograph.
I had never seen it before.
Rachel pointed toward the fourth person reflected faintly in the glass behind them.
“There.”
I leaned closer.
The reflection showed another man.
Older.
Wearing a dark suit.
I recognized him instantly.
The attorney.
But there was something else.
On the table inside the office was the same fireproof box I had kept in my home.
My heart stopped.
Rachel whispered,
“That box existed eight years ago.”
I looked at Lauren.
She looked terrified.
Then the conference-room door opened.
One of the officers stepped inside.
“We found something in your home.”
I stood immediately.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“The original contract.”
My heart pounded.
“Where?”
He hesitated.
“It wasn’t inside the fireproof box.”
“Then where?”
He handed me a photograph.
It showed the contract lying on my desk.
Beside it was a handwritten note.
I read the note once.
Then again.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
It belonged to my father.
Only five words were written:
Trust no one, especially her.
I slowly looked up.
Lauren was crying.
And Rachel had stopped breathing.
Because the note wasn’t addressed to me.
It was addressed to Lauren.
