Chapter 4: What Robert Hid
Fiona made a broken sound behind me.
“You forced her off the road?” she asked.
George stepped toward Beverly.
“You were frightened and confused.”
“I watched you turn the wheel,” Beverly said.
“Then you made me swear the other car had never been there.”
Dad’s jaw shook.
“Elaine was alive when you stopped.”
Beverly covered her face.
“She was calling Daniel’s name.”
My knees weakened.
Dad caught my elbow, but I pulled away.
“You knew?” I asked him.
“You knew George was involved?”
“I suspected it.”
“And you let me marry his daughter?”
“I didn’t know Fiona was his daughter until you showed me the engagement photograph.”
“That was eight months ago.”
Dad reached for me.
“Daniel—”
“Eight months,” I repeated.
“You ate dinner with them.
You shook George’s hand.
You let me stand at that altar.”
George smiled faintly.
“There it is.
Even his own son sees the lie.”
Dad’s shoulders dropped.
“I wanted you to choose Fiona without carrying my hatred,” he said.
“And I needed time to reopen the case without putting you in danger.”
“You should have trusted me.”
“I was afraid.”
“You taught me never to lie because I was afraid.”
Dad looked as if I had struck him.
He sat heavily on the stone bench beneath the canopy.
“I failed you,” he said.
“Not because I lacked money.
Because I decided your truth belonged to me.”
Those words nearly broke what remained of my anger.
Fiona stepped into the rain and removed the jeweled wrap from her shoulders.
“Daniel, I didn’t know any of this.”
I looked at her.
“You knew your mother was humiliating my father.”
Her face crumpled.
“And I laughed.”
“Yes.”
“I wanted my parents’ approval more than I wanted to be decent.”
Beverly took a folded handkerchief from her purse and pressed it into Dad’s wet hand.
He looked at it but did not use it.
“I don’t deserve your thanks,” she said.
“I should have spoken years ago.”
“No,” Dad replied.
“You don’t.”
George pulled out his phone.
“This performance is over.”
Thomas blocked his path.
“Who are you calling?”
“My attorney—and the Henderson board.
Robert’s voting authority will be challenged before midnight.”
Dad stood.
“On what grounds?”
“On the transfer Elaine signed.”
“You mean the forged transfer?”
George smiled.
“A court accepted it twenty-seven years ago.
Until that ruling changes, I still own the disputed founding shares.”
Thomas’s phone vibrated.
He read the message, and the color left his face.
“What is it?” Dad asked.
“A judge has issued a temporary injunction,” Thomas said.
“Your board vote is suspended pending a review of George’s claim.”
George slid his phone into his pocket.
“The emergency filing was prepared before the wedding.
I knew Robert would eventually crawl out of hiding.”
Fiona stared at him.
“You planned this?”
“I protect my family.”
“No,” she said.
“You use us as furniture around your power.”
George ignored her and faced Dad.
“By morning, I’ll control enough shares to force the partnership through.
If Beverly repeats this story, my attorneys will destroy her credibility.”
Beverly’s hand moved to her necklace.
“You said the recording was gone,” she whispered.
George went still.
Dad stepped forward.
“What recording?”
Beverly pulled the necklace away from her throat.
A tiny brass key hung behind the pendant.
“I recorded George six months after Elaine’s funeral.
He was drunk.
He described everything.”
“Where is it?” I asked.
“In a safe-deposit box under my maiden name.”
George seized Beverly’s wrist.
“You will give me that key.”
Fiona pushed between them.
“Let go of her.”
George released Beverly, but his expression had changed.
The frightened man was gone; the businessman who had buried the truth had returned.
“You have until nine tomorrow morning,” he said.
“Give me the key, or Daniel will learn why Robert’s name—not mine—appears on the original police statement.”
Dad stared at him.
“What did you do, George?”
May you like
George stepped into the waiting limousine.
“I made certain the world blamed the man who ran away.”
