We waited in silence for another message.
Nothing came.
The house seemed unnaturally quiet. Even Wren, who had been restless earlier, had fallen asleep.
Gregory remained near the window.
My father stood beside me.
Roland sat at the table, staring at the old photograph of Daniel Voss.
Elena finally broke the silence.
“We need to stop reacting to messages and start verifying evidence.”
She was right.
Fear could make every coincidence look like proof.
“We go to the safe deposit box,” I said.
Gregory nodded.
“Together.”
Nobody objected.
We left the house in two cars.
I rode with my father and Elena.
Gregory and Roland followed behind.
During the drive, my father barely spoke.
Finally, I asked him something I had been afraid to say.
“Did Grandpa trust Gregory?”
“Yes.”
“Completely?”
My father looked at me.
“No one trusted anyone completely.”
I almost smiled.
“That sounds like something Grandpa would say.”
“He believed trust should be earned repeatedly.”
When we reached the bank, Gregory retrieved the box.
Inside was an old envelope, several photographs, and a small electronic storage device.
Elena examined the device.
“Can this still be read?”
“I don't know.”
Gregory handed it to her.
“We'll find out.”
Back at the house, Elena connected the device to an isolated computer.
The files were old.
Some were damaged.
Others were encrypted.
One folder opened.
Security Archive.
The first document showed the night my grandfather died.
There were timestamps.
11:41 p.m.
11:47 p.m.
11:52 p.m.
11:58 p.m.
12:03 a.m.
At 11:47, the temporary credential assigned to Voss appeared.
At the same second, my father's credential authorized the access.
But beneath the entry was another code.
“Manual override.”
Elena stared at it.
“Someone physically bypassed the system.”
Gregory nodded.
“That shouldn't have been possible.”
“Unless someone had administrator access.”
He looked at my father.
“Only two people had it.”
“Who?”
“Your grandfather and the outside systems administrator.”
“Name?”
“Martin Shaw.”
My father frowned.
“Where is he now?”
Gregory shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Elena searched the archive.
A personnel record appeared.
Martin Shaw.
Contracted through a company called Meridian Systems.
My father suddenly stood.
“Meridian.”
“What?”
“Your grandfather terminated them.”
“When?”
“Three months after Margaret's last meeting with Voss.”
“Why?”
“I don't remember.”
Elena opened another file.
There was a termination memo.
Reason: unauthorized access to restricted estate records.
My stomach tightened.
“That's him.”
“Maybe,” Elena said carefully.
“What else?”
She opened the attached report.
It mentioned duplicated credentials.
One credential belonged to my father.
Another belonged to the family office.
A third had been created without authorization.
“Who had the third?”
“No name.”
“Just a number?”
“Yes.”
Gregory leaned closer.
“That credential was never assigned.”
“But someone used it.”
“Apparently.”
My father looked at the screen.
“On what dates?”
Elena scrolled.
The unauthorized credential had been used three times.
Once six months before my grandfather died.
Once two weeks before his death.
And once on the night he died.
I felt a chill.
Claire had said someone copied files after hours three times.
Trust structure.
Property records.
Beneficiary documents.
Three unauthorized accesses.
Exactly.
“The third access was the night Grandpa died,” I whispered.
Elena nodded.
“That's what the log shows.”
“Can we identify the device?”
She checked.
“Yes.”
She looked at Gregory.
“What?”
“This isn't a computer.”
“What is it?”
“A physical access terminal.”
Gregory's face changed.
“Meaning?”
“Someone used a device connected directly to the security system.”
My father sat down.
“So the person was inside.”
“Yes.”
The anonymous witness had said they saw who opened the door.
Maybe they hadn't been outside.
Maybe they had been inside the building.
I looked at Gregory.
“Were you alone that night?”
“No.”
“Who else?”
“Two guards.”
“Names?”
“Peter Lawson and Henry Burke.”
“Where are they?”
“Peter retired. Henry died five years ago.”
Elena asked, “Did either of them have administrator access?”
“No.”
“Then they weren't the person.”
My phone buzzed.
Everyone froze.
A message appeared.
“You are close.”
Then:
“Peter saw me.”
I stared at the screen.
Gregory whispered, “Peter.”
My father reached for the phone.
“Don't answer.”
Another message appeared.
“Peter knows why Margaret went to the hospital.”
My heart stopped.
I called Peter.
The number was disconnected.
Gregory immediately searched his old records.
“We have an address.”
We went there.
Peter Lawson lived alone in a small house outside the city.
He opened the door only after Gregory identified himself.
When he saw my father, his expression changed.
“You came.”
My father stepped forward.
“You knew Margaret?”
Peter nodded.
“I knew your family.”
“Did you see Daniel Voss the night my father died?”
Peter looked toward the street.
Then back at us.
“Yes.”
“Who opened the door?”
He swallowed.
“Your father.”
My father stiffened.
“What?”
Peter shook his head.
“Not really.”
“What does that mean?”
“The man used your father's credential.”
My father looked confused.
“But it wasn't him.”
Peter nodded.
“I know.”
“Then who?”
Peter stared at me.
“I never saw his face.”
The answer felt like a dead end.
But then he added something else.
“He had your grandfather's key.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“Grandpa's key?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He entered the archive.”
“What happened afterward?”
“He left carrying a black folder.”
The same black folder Faye had found in Roland's old office.
The same kind of folder that had contained the private debt and references to Samuel Reed.
I asked Peter whether he knew what happened to the man.
“No.”
“Did you tell my father?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Peter looked ashamed.
“Because someone told me that if I spoke, my daughter would lose her job.”
My father stepped forward.
“Who threatened you?”
Peter shook his head.
“I never saw his face.”
“Then how did you know?”
“He left a message.”
“What message?”
Peter looked at me.
“He said, ‘The family will blame the husband.’”
My heart sank.
Roland closed his eyes.
Peter continued.
“He said that was the point.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 19: The Person Behind the False Debt Had Planned for Everyone to Blame Roland Before Wren Was Even Born
Six Days Into Motherhood, I Thought My Husband Was Giving Me Space—Until One Small Detail Made Me Question Everything About His Disappearance
Part 18 of 20
