Chapter 11 - The Dead Had Finally Started Testifying
My father’s affidavit was fourteen pages long.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
Robert Cole had known exactly what he was doing.
He documented dates.
Amounts.
Accounts.
Names.
He described Evelyn using Northstar to move foundation money.
He described Malcolm creating legal structures to hide beneficial ownership.
He described Helen Baird notarizing transactions she did not witness.
He described a younger Travis beginning to ask questions.
Most importantly, he described the lunch meeting.
Malcolm had requested it.
Urgently.
Private dining room.
Denver Athletic Club.
Robert wrote:
I believe Malcolm intends to persuade me not to contact federal authorities.
I have already done so.
If Malcolm believes disclosure can still be stopped, I consider him capable of intimidation.
I do not know whether Evelyn has authorized that intimidation.
I know she is aware of this meeting.
The final paragraph destroyed whatever remained of my childhood image of my mother.
Evelyn told me last night that I should remember I have two sons before I decide to destroy their future over accounting.
I told her the future I fear most is one in which Adrian and Travis become men who believe blood excuses corruption.
I will not teach them that lesson.
My eyes burned.
He had been trying to protect us.
Not by hiding truth.
By exposing it.
And someone stopped him.
The toxicology review began immediately.
So did the investigation into Malcolm.
But he was no longer available.
At six the next morning, police arrived at his house with a warrant.
Empty.
Bed unslept in.
Car gone.
Phone disconnected.
Private aircraft logs showed nothing.
Border alerts went out.
Malcolm Pierce had run.
Evelyn claimed she had no idea where he was.
Travis claimed the same.
Nobody believed either of them.
But belief still wasn’t proof.
Then the board’s forensic accountants delivered the report that finally shattered Travis’s position.
His administrative credentials had been used to mirror mine.
His office workstation had approved twelve of the fraudulent transfers.
His assistant had created vendor profiles for Northstar and Red Creek.
And two payments had gone directly toward Travis’s personal debts.
I called him.
Naomi told me not to.
I did anyway.
He answered.
“What?”
“Malcolm ran.”
Silence.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Your credentials framed me.”
“IT can fake anything.”
“The accountants found your debt payments.”
“Adrian—”
“Did you kill Sophie?”
Nothing.
“Answer me.”
“I did not kill Sophie.”
“You opened her hood.”
“I was looking for documents.”
“That is the stupidest lie you’ve ever told.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Mom told me Sophie had taken files.”
“I checked the vehicle.”
“Did you know the brakes were sabotaged?”
“No.”
“Did you pay Dean Harper?”
“No.”
“Northstar did.”
“I didn’t authorize it.”
“Mom?”
Silence.
“Travis.”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
His voice changed.
“For once in your life, stop pretending you were the only person in this family being manipulated.”
I stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“You think Mom told me everything?”
“She told me you were trying to take the company.”
“She told me Sophie was feeding Granddad lies.”
“She told me Northstar was tax planning.”
“She told me the vendor payments were how the family handled confidential settlements.”
“When did you find out?”
“Find out what?”
“That it was fraud.”
Silence.
“Travis.”
“After Sophie died.”
My pulse accelerated.
“How?”
“Malcolm.”
“Why would he tell you?”
“He needed signatures.”
“For what?”
“To move accounts.”
“Did you sign?”
“Yes.”
“Then you became part of it.”
“I know.”
For the first time, my brother sounded tired.
Not angry.
Not smug.
Tired.
“Why keep going?”
“Because by then my name was everywhere.”
“If I exposed them, I went down too.”
“So you chose to frame me.”
Silence.
“Yes.”
The admission landed softly.
Almost peacefully.
That frightened me.
“And Lila?”
“I never wanted them to threaten her.”
“You stood beside Mom on Christmas and said she didn’t belong.”
“I was angry.”
“You helped file the petition.”
“Yes.”
“You paid Caleb.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Mom said if your branch gained control, you’d turn everything over to investigators.”
“She was right.”
“I know that now.”
I closed my eyes.
“Where is Malcolm?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is Mom keeping Helen?”
“Colorado Springs.”
“Police know.”
“Good.”
“Where is the real Northstar archive?”
Silence.
“What?”
“The archive police found isn’t everything.”
I gripped the phone.
“How do you know?”
“Because Malcolm kept a second set.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who does?”
“Mom.”
“Ask her.”
“She won’t tell me.”
“Then make her.”
Travis laughed.
“You still think she’s my mother the same way she’s yours.”
“What does that mean?”
Another silence.
Then the call disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
Something about his final sentence bothered me.
I called back.
No answer.
I texted.
Nothing.
Thirty minutes later, Naomi arrived.
I told her everything.
She looked furious.
“You recorded it?”
I held up the phone.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Ruiz needs it.”
“I know.”
“What did he mean by the last thing?”
“I don’t know.”
“He said Evelyn isn’t his mother the same way she’s mine.”
Naomi frowned.
“Could mean emotional relationship.”
“Could mean something else.”
June entered.
She had heard.
Her face went white.
“What exactly did Travis say?”
I repeated it.
June sat down.
“June?”
She looked at me.
“I think I know.”
“What?”
“Travis was born eleven months after your parents married.”
“I know.”
“Robert was away for part of that year.”
“On a development project in Canada.”
I knew that too.
Then June said:
“There were rumors.”
I stared.
“What rumors?”
“That Robert wasn’t Travis’s biological father.”
Everything stopped.
“No.”
“I never knew whether it was true.”
“Who would the father be?”
June looked sick.
“Malcolm.”
The room became silent.
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because reality had exceeded the amount of absurdity my mind could absorb.
“You’re telling me my brother might actually be Malcolm Pierce’s son.”
“Yes.”
“Does Travis know?”
“I don’t know.”
“He sounded like he did.”
Naomi leaned forward.
“If Malcolm is Travis’s biological father, that adds another motive.”
“For what?”
“Protecting him.”
“Framing you.”
“Preserving control.”
“Possibly even helping him escape.”
I stood.
“Mom had an affair with Malcolm.”
“Likely.”
“Dad found fraud involving Mom and Malcolm.”
“Yes.”
“Dad died after lunch with Malcolm.”
“Yes.”
“Malcolm helped sabotage Sophie’s adoption.”
“Yes.”
“And now Malcolm disappears when Dad’s affidavit is found.”
Naomi nodded.
The pattern was no longer subtle.
At noon, Detective Ruiz received my recording with Travis.
By one, officers went to locate him.
He was gone.
His car remained at his condo.
His phone was off.
His passport was missing.
Now both Travis and Malcolm had vanished.
Evelyn remained at the mansion.
When police arrived, she complained about harassment.
At three seventeen, her attorney announced she would voluntarily appear for questioning the following morning.
At three forty, the assisted-living facility called police.
Helen Baird had disappeared.
Again.
This time not with Evelyn.
A nurse entered Helen’s room after lunch.
Bed empty.
Wheelchair gone.
Emergency exit alarm disabled.
Security footage captured a man wheeling her through the loading area.
Cap.
Mask.
Dark coat.
But when he turned sideways, the camera caught his profile.
Travis.
My brother had taken Helen.
The only living witness who could directly explain Northstar’s origins and the forged adoption notarization.
Police issued a statewide alert.
For six hours, nothing.
Then at ten thirty that night, my phone rang.
Travis.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
“Do not involve police.”
“Too late.”
“I mean it.”
“Where is Helen?”
“Safe.”
“She’s eighty-four and has dementia.”
“I’m trying to keep her alive.”
“From who?”
A pause.
Then:
“Mom.”
I stopped.
“What are you talking about?”
“She knows Helen remembers.”
“Remembers what?”
“The beginning.”
“Of Northstar?”
“Everything.”
“Bring Helen to police.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Malcolm is looking for us.”
“You know where Malcolm is?”
“No.”
“But he called me.”
“What did he say?”
“That I had until midnight to return Helen.”
“And if you don’t?”
Travis’s voice cracked for the first time in my life.
“He said he’ll do to Lila what he did to Sophie.”
My blood froze.
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Travis.”
“Listen to me.”
“I found something in Helen’s room.”
“What?”
“A letter.”
“From who?”
“Granddad.”
“What does it say?”
Travis breathed shakily.
“That Mom didn’t start Northstar.”
“Who did?”
“The person who built it was Malcolm.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“It should.”
“Why?”
“Because according to Helen, Malcolm wasn’t stealing money for himself.”
I gripped the counter.
“Then for who?”
Travis whispered:
“For the man everyone thinks has been dead for twelve years.”
I stopped breathing.
“Aaron Vale?”
“No.”
“Who?”
A pause.
May you like
Then three impossible words.
“Our father, Adrian.”
