Chapter 6: The Ledger My Father Left Behind

At 1:46 a.m., I stood outside my own front door, wondering whether the man sleeping inside had ever loved me.

Margaret had insisted that I not enter the house alone. A police officer had accompanied us, and another was waiting nearby while investigators attempted to locate Caroline through her phone.

The house looked exactly as it had when I’d left for the gala.

Warm lights glowed behind the windows. The white roses Daniel had bought me earlier sat on the kitchen counter in their paper wrapping.

Everything looked peaceful.

That was what frightened me most.

I unlocked the front door.

“Daniel?”” I called.

No answer.

I walked through the living room, past the photographs from our wedding and the framed picture of my father standing outside his first hotel.

Daniel’s shoes were beside the stairs.

His car was in the driveway.

But his office door was closed.

The police officer motioned for me to remain behind him while he checked the hallway.

The door was unlocked.

Inside, the desk lamp was on.

Daniel’s laptop sat open beside a half-empty cup of coffee. Several sheets of paper lay scattered across the desk, and a small black key rested near the keyboard.

I recognized it immediately.

My father’s office key.

The one that had disappeared from my hotel office.

“Don’t touch anything,” the officer said.

I stayed in the doorway, staring at the key.

The laptop screen displayed a spreadsheet of transactions. Several rows were highlighted in yellow, and the final column contained notes about donor payments.

One entry read:

Bennett Children’s Foundation — Emergency Medical Grant — $250,000.

The status field said transferred.

The recipient account belonged to Northbridge Advisory Group.

Stephen Cole’s company.

Margaret arrived behind me.

“Is that your father’s key?”” she asked.

“Yes.””

She glanced toward the officer.

“We’ll need photographs of everything before any items are moved.””

The officer called for a forensic technician.

I remained in the doorway, forcing myself not to cross the room.

Then I noticed something else.

A small envelope sat beneath Daniel’s laptop.

My name was written on it in his handwriting.

“There’s a letter,” I said.

The officer photographed the envelope before carefully removing it from beneath the computer.

Inside was a folded sheet of paper.

The first line made my throat tighten.

Olivia, if you’re reading this, then something has gone terribly wrong.

I looked at Margaret.

“It’s from Daniel.””

She studied the handwriting.

“Possibly. Let’s not assume anything until we know when it was written.””

The letter continued.

I never intended for you to find out this way. I thought I could fix everything before the money disappeared permanently.

My fingers trembled.

The officer placed the letter on a clear evidence sleeve and continued reading it under the room’s light.

Stephen told me the transfers were temporary. He said the foundation could recover the money through an investment arrangement, and that the children’s programs wouldn’t lose a cent.

The next paragraph was worse.

When I realized the payments were not going where he promised, I tried to stop them. But by then, someone had already created documents in your name.

I swallowed hard.

I know how this looks. I know what I’ve done by keeping quiet. But if I tell you everything, Stephen will destroy the evidence and make sure the blame falls on you.

I stopped reading.

Margaret looked at me.

“Olivia, this may be an attempt to explain his involvement. It doesn’t establish that the letter is genuine or that his claims are true.””

“I know.””

But I could barely hear her.

If Daniel was telling the truth, he’d been manipulated into helping Stephen divert money.

If he was lying, the letter was a carefully prepared excuse.

Either way, he’d hidden something enormous from me.

The officer finished photographing the room.

“Ma’am, do you know where the original donor ledger is kept?””

“In the hotel’s secure archive. It contains my father’s handwritten records.””

“Is there a reason to believe it’s missing?””

I thought of the anonymous message.

Ask Daniel what happened to the original donor ledger.

“I don’t know yet,” I said.

“But I intend to find out.””

Margaret pulled me into the hallway.

“We need to be careful. If Daniel is involved, we shouldn’t give him an opportunity to coordinate stories with anyone else. If he’s being threatened, we need to understand that, too.””

I stared at the closed office door.

“Why didn’t he tell me?””

“Fear. Greed. Shame. We don’t know which.””

The answer hurt because every possibility felt plausible.

My phone rang.

The police had received an update from the team tracking Caroline’s device.

The phone had stopped transmitting.

Its last known location was still our house.

“Could she have been here?”” I asked.