Chapter 2 - The Number Under the Lid
I did not answer.
Mark repeated himself.
“Mom? Did you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Well?”
I closed the trunk slowly.
“I’m at the grocery store.”
Silence.
Then a short laugh.
“You always were terrible at lying.”
My heart kicked hard.
“What do you want, Mark?”
“I want you to stop digging through Dad’s mess. He was sick. He made bad decisions. Lucas and I can handle the estate.”
“You weren’t at the funeral.”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this.”
He exhaled sharply.
“Fine. Be stubborn.”
The call ended.
I waited five full minutes before turning the lockbox over.
A strip of yellow tape was stuck beneath the lid.
CALL DANA — 312-555-0184.
I dialed.
A woman answered on the second ring.
“Dana Whitcomb.”
“My name is Eleanor Hale.”
She went silent.
Then: “Where are you?”
“In a storage unit.”
“Is anyone with you?”
“No.”
“Good. Lock the door.”
I did.
She lowered her voice.
“Robert told me to expect your call if he died before he could clean this up.”
“Clean what up?”
“The company collapse.”
“I saw the account.”
“That account is not company money.”
“What is it?”
“Your husband’s personal reserve. Built over twenty-one years.”
I leaned against the Ford.
“Why did he hide eight million dollars from me?”
“He wasn’t hiding it from you.”
“Then who?”
Dana paused.
“Your sons.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
“Why?”
“Because three years ago, Mark and Lucas tried to force Robert to sell Hale Freight to a private equity group.”
I frowned.
“They worked for the company.”
“They also secretly took loans against expected inheritance.”
My mouth went dry.
Dana continued.
“When Robert refused to sell, they started feeding financial information to a competitor.”
“No.”
“I have the emails.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
I pressed one hand to my chest.
“Robert knew?”
“For two years.”
“Then why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because you would have called the boys. And he believed they would destroy the evidence.”
I looked at the flash drive.
“What’s on this?”
“Everything.”
A banging sound exploded against the storage door.
I froze.
Three hard knocks.
May you like
Then Mark’s voice came through the metal.
“Mom. Open the door.”
