Chapter 25 - THE DINNER THAT BECAME A TRAP
Richard Cole agreed to meet me the following evening.
He chose the private dining room of the Grand Meridian, a restaurant where my father had celebrated business victories for decades. The room overlooked the city, and the walls were lined with photographs of people who had helped build the Hayes family fortune.
I arrived twenty minutes early.
Detective Carter's team had installed recording equipment in accordance with the investigation's legal requirements. Officers waited nearby, ready to intervene if the meeting became dangerous.
Richard arrived precisely on time.
He wore a charcoal suit, a silver tie, and the same reassuring smile I had known since childhood.
"Daniel," he said, embracing me briefly. "I've been worried sick about you."
I didn't return the embrace.
"Have you?"
His smile faltered.
"I heard about Emily. I can only imagine what you're going through."
"Then imagine this. My wife was imprisoned in a room for three years while someone stole millions from our company."
Richard slowly removed his coat.
"You're making serious accusations."
"I'm asking questions."
"Then ask them."
I placed a photograph of the old account ledgers on the table.
"Did my father know about the transfers?"
Richard studied the photograph without touching it.
"Your father was involved in thousands of transactions. Some were legitimate. Some were mistakes. That's why companies have auditors."
"Did he know Adrian Vale?"
A slight movement crossed Richard's face.
"I've heard the name."
"Have you met him?"
"Possibly. I meet hundreds of people."
"Did you know Emily was being held at the hotel?"
Richard's expression hardened.
"Of course not."
"Did you know Vanessa was trying to obtain control of the family trust?"
"Daniel, you need to calm down."
I leaned forward.
"No. I've spent three years being calm while the people around me lied. I'm finished with that."
Richard sighed as if I were a disappointed child.
"Your father would be ashamed to see you behaving this way."
The words nearly made me lose control.
For years, Richard had used my father's memory to silence disagreement. He knew exactly how much I wanted to honor the man who had built our company.
But Emily's suffering had changed something inside me.
"My father warned me that someone was stealing from the company," I said. "I ignored him. Then he died, Emily disappeared, and you told me everything would eventually make sense."
Richard's eyes narrowed.
"Your father was under enormous stress before his death."
"What caused it?"
"Business pressures."
"Or Adrian Vale?"
For the first time, Richard's composure broke.
He reached for his glass, but his hand trembled slightly.
"You have no idea what you're dealing with."
"Then explain it."
He leaned across the table.
"Your father made decisions that could have destroyed everything he built. He borrowed money from people he couldn't repay. He made promises to investors that were impossible to fulfill. I spent years protecting his reputation."
"By stealing from his company?"
"By keeping the business alive!"
His voice echoed through the room.
Then he caught himself and lowered it.
"You think money is simple, Daniel? You think an empire can be built without compromises? Your father understood reality. You never did."
"And Emily?"
Richard looked away.
"Emily was clever. Too clever for her own good."
The admission settled between us.
"Did you order her confinement?"
"No."
"Did you know about it?"
He hesitated.
That hesitation told me more than any confession could have.
Richard rose from his chair.
"This conversation is over."
Before he could reach the door, I asked one final question.
"What happened to my father on the night he died?"
He stopped.
For several seconds, he remained perfectly still.
Then he turned toward me.
"Your father made one mistake," he said quietly. "He believed that doing the right thing at the last minute would erase everything he had done before."
"What does that mean?"
Richard's eyes hardened.
"It means you should stop digging."
He left without looking back.
Within minutes, Carter entered the room.
"We recorded the conversation," he said. "His statements about Emily and the financial accounts may be significant, but we need corroborating evidence."
"Did you hear what he said about my father?"
"Yes."
I looked through the window toward the crowded street below.
Richard had not confessed to murder. He had not admitted to ordering Emily's imprisonment. But he had revealed something more important: he knew what had happened before my father died.
My phone vibrated.
A message had arrived from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of Emily standing beside my father in the music room, taken only hours before she disappeared.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written:
Ask Emily what your father gave her that night.
I called Carter's attention to it.
May you like
Then I returned to the hospital.
Because whatever my father had entrusted to Emily, it might be the only thing capable of bringing Richard down.
