Chapter 7 - THE BLUE FOLDER
We searched the house from top to bottom.
Nothing.
The office walls.
The attic.
Rachel’s closet.
Old storage boxes.
Even the children’s books.
No blue folder.
Then Lily asked.
“What about Mommy’s tree?”
I turned.
“What tree?”
“The one in the garden.”
Rachel had planted a Japanese maple when Lily was born.
After Rachel died, I almost removed it because looking at it hurt.
I never did.
Lily pointed toward the back window.
“Mommy put something there once.”
“When?”
“I was little.”
She thought.
“She told me it was treasure.”
Keller brought a warrant team and a small ground scanner.
Six inches beneath the soil, they found a waterproof container.
Inside was a blue folder.
Rachel had sealed every page in plastic.
Bank records.
Fake vendors.
Email printouts.
Copies of checks.
And one signed agreement between Michael and Vanessa.
It showed Vanessa receiving ten percent of diverted funds through an accounting company.
The final page was a handwritten statement.
If Michael discovers I copied this, I believe he will hurt me.
Below it.
Vanessa knows enough to help him.
Keller called the prosecutor.
For the first time, he used the word homicide.
Not accident.
Not suspicious death.
Homicide.
Then the lab called.
Blood found in Michael’s Range Rover matched Rachel.
I sat down.
Keller spoke gently.
“The amount is small.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means she may have been inside the vehicle.”
“Alive?”
“We can’t tell.”
My head began pounding.
Another result followed.
Fibers from Rachel’s coat were embedded in the cargo carpet.
She had not simply brushed against the SUV in a parking lot.
She had been inside.
That night, Michael called me.
Blocked number.
Keller traced while I answered.
“Daniel.”
His voice sounded exhausted.
“Turn yourself in.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“Rachel was going to destroy the company.”
“She discovered theft.”
“She discovered enough to bring down Dad too.”
I froze.
“What?”
Michael laughed bitterly.
“You still think Dad built Harbor Ridge clean?”
My stomach dropped.
“He knew about the shell companies?”
“Some.”
“Did he know about Rachel?”
Silence.
“Michael.”
“No.”
I believed that answer only because of how quickly it came.
Then I asked.
“Did you kill her?”
He breathed heavily.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
The same phrase.
I closed my eyes.
“What happened?”
“Vanessa was supposed to get the folder.”
“Rachel ran.”
“Did you hit her car?”
Silence.
Keller motioned.
Keep him talking.
“Michael.”
His voice cracked.
“She wouldn’t stop.”
“Did you hit her car?”
“Yes.”
The word barely came out.
I stopped breathing.
Then he said.
“But she was alive afterward.”
My eyes opened.
“What?”
“She was alive when I pulled her out.”
Keller stared at me.
“What did you do?”
Michael began crying.
The first time I had heard him cry since we were children.
May you like
“I called Vanessa.”
And then the line went dead.
