Chapter 2 - THE FAMILY THAT BURIED THREE EMPTY COFFINS
Arthur locked the estate down before midnight.
Security guards were placed at every entrance.
Maya and Noah were moved into rooms beside his study.
Arthur told them very little.
Not because he wanted to hide the truth.
Because he did not yet know which version of the truth was real.
He sat alone beneath the dim library lights with Claire’s photograph in front of him.
Twelve years earlier.
He remembered everything.
The phone call.
The smoke rising over the northern property.
Firefighters telling him there was almost nothing left.
Three badly burned bodies had supposedly been recovered.
Claire.
Maya.
Noah.
Jonathan had already been declared dead months earlier.
Arthur had been too destroyed to question details.
His father, Charles Bennett, handled everything.
Richard Ashford helped.
Richard arranged attorneys.
Private investigators.
Funeral services.
He even held Arthur upright at the memorial.
Arthur had thanked him.
That memory now felt poisonous.
At 1:10 a.m., Daniel Kline arrived.
He looked nervous.
Arthur noticed immediately.
Daniel had been the Bennett family attorney for nearly twenty years.
He had been Arthur’s closest professional adviser since Arthur became CEO.
“You knew,” Arthur said.
Daniel closed the library door.
“I suspected.”
“That isn’t what you said on the phone.”
Daniel looked at the photograph.
“Where did you find it?”
“Victoria’s drawer.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“That’s bad.”
Arthur stood.
“You have about ten seconds before I throw you out too.”
Daniel exhaled.
“After Claire died, I found discrepancies.”
“What discrepancies?”
“The bodies.”
Arthur stared.
“The medical examiner never positively identified all three.”
“I was told DNA confirmed them.”
“It didn’t.”
Arthur felt rage rising.
“Who told me it did?”
“Your father.”
Silence.
Arthur stepped backward.
“No.”
“Charles signed the final family identification statement.”
“My father believed Claire was dead.”
“I don’t know what he believed.”
Arthur looked away.
Charles Bennett had died four years earlier.
Arthur had loved him.
Respected him.
Built his life around earning his approval.
Daniel continued.
“The remains from the cottage were badly damaged.”
“Whose bodies were they?”
“One was never identified.”
“And the others?”
“Two adults.”
Arthur froze.
“No children?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not conclusively.”
Arthur gripped the desk.
“You knew this for twelve years?”
“I discovered it seven years ago.”
“And said nothing?”
“I confronted Charles.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Daniel looked ashamed.
“He told me reopening the case would destroy the company and put Arthur Bennett in danger.”
Arthur stared at him.
“So you obeyed.”
“I was protecting you.”
Arthur laughed once.
A hard, empty sound.
“Everyone who lies to me says that.”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Arthur, you need to understand what was happening then.”
“No. You need to understand what’s happening now.”
Arthur pointed toward the ceiling.
“My niece and nephew are sleeping upstairs.”
Daniel looked startled by the words.
Arthur continued.
“They spent twelve years believing they had no family because people like you decided silence was protection.”
“I didn’t know where they were.”
“But you knew they might be alive.”
Daniel said nothing.
Arthur turned away.
“Tell me about Richard.”
Daniel hesitated.
“Claire believed Ashford Capital was stealing from the Bennett Children’s Trust.”
Arthur frowned.
That trust had been created by his grandmother.
It held shares of Bennett Industries for future descendants.
“Richard managed part of the investment portfolio.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“At the time? About ninety million.”
Arthur went still.
“Claire found irregularities?”
“She found transfers.”
“To where?”
“Shell corporations.”
“Controlled by Richard?”
“We believe so.”
“We?”
“Claire and I.”
Arthur turned sharply.
“You were helping her?”
“For three months before the fire.”
Arthur felt another betrayal opening beneath him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Claire asked me not to.”
“Why?”
“Because she believed someone inside your family was helping Richard.”
Arthur stared at him.
“My father?”
“She never named him.”
“Did she suspect him?”
Daniel did not answer.
That was answer enough.
At 2:00 a.m., estate security called.
Victoria’s car had stopped outside Ashford Manor.
Of course.
She had gone to her father.
Arthur immediately called her again.
This time she answered.
“What do you want?”
“Come home.”
“No.”
“I found the certificates.”
Silence.
“Victoria?”
Her voice changed.
“Arthur, listen to me.”
“I’m listening.”
“Those children are dangerous.”
Arthur almost laughed.
“They’re thirteen and eleven.”
“You don’t understand what they represent.”
“What do they represent?”
She lowered her voice.
“The end of everything.”
Arthur’s blood went cold.
“The end of what?”
“Your company.”
“My marriage?”
No answer.
“Your father?”
Still nothing.
Arthur continued.
“What did you know about Claire?”
Victoria’s breathing became audible.
“More than you.”
“Was she alive after the fire?”
Victoria whispered:
“For a while.”
Arthur gripped the phone.
“What does that mean?”
“I can’t do this.”
“You’re going to do exactly this.”
“No.”
“Victoria!”
She began crying.
It was the first time Arthur had ever heard genuine fear in her voice.
“My father told me she was dead.”
“When?”
“Three years after the fire.”
Arthur froze.
Not immediately.
Three years later.
Which meant Claire had survived.
“Where was she?”
Victoria whispered:
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I swear.”
“Who had her?”
“My father.”
Arthur shut his eyes.
The room disappeared.
“Why?”
“She had evidence.”
“The trust?”
“Yes.”
“Did he hurt her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you help him?”
Silence.
Arthur’s voice hardened.
“Did you help your father take Claire’s children?”
Victoria began sobbing.
“I was twenty-two.”
Arthur felt something inside him break.
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I thought he was protecting them.”
“From whom?”
A pause.
Then Victoria said something Arthur never expected.
“From your father.”
Arthur stopped breathing.
Before he could respond, a man’s voice sounded faintly on Victoria’s end.
Richard Ashford.
“Give me the phone.”
Victoria whispered:
“No.”
Then the line went dead.
Arthur stared at the screen.
Daniel stood motionless.
Arthur looked at him.
“My father.”
Daniel said nothing.
“Claire was afraid of my father.”
“I told you I didn’t know.”
Arthur grabbed the photograph.
“No.”
His voice was quieter now.
“You knew enough.”
Then a crash sounded upstairs.
Arthur ran.
He reached Maya’s room.
The window was open.
Curtains moved in the cold night air.
Noah stood in the hallway shouting Maya’s name.
Arthur rushed inside.
Maya was gone.
On the carpet lay a single envelope.
Arthur picked it up.
Four words were written across the front.
STOP DIGGING, ARTHUR.
Inside was a photograph taken less than five minutes earlier.
Maya.
May you like
Unconscious.
In the back seat of a car.
