Chapter 10 - THE THIRD VOICE IN MY FATHER'S STUDY
“THOMAS, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. IF YOU GO TO THE POLICE, ALL OF US WILL LOSE EVERYTHING.”
The voice came from the recording.
And I recognized it.
Melissa Grant.
My father's executive assistant.
The woman who had sat across from me in the Stamford diner and claimed she was listening to the confrontation over the telephone.
I stared at the audio transcript.
“She was there?”
Rebecca nodded.
“The video shows her entering the study shortly before the argument escalated.”
I felt sick.
“She lied to me again.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We don't know yet.”
The recording had been transferred to investigators, who were reviewing it with forensic specialists.
Rebecca had received permission to discuss certain findings relevant to our civil case, but the full recording remained part of the investigation.
I sat in her office, struggling to absorb the revelation.
Melissa had claimed Garrett called her after the confrontation.
But she had been physically present.
That changed everything.
“What does the video show?” I asked.
Rebecca hesitated.
“Thomas is seated behind his desk. Garrett and Vivian are standing across from him. Melissa enters carrying a folder.”
“And then?”
“There's an argument about the financial records.”
I clenched my fists.
“Did anyone hurt him?”
“The visible portion does not show anyone striking him.”
“Then what happened?”
“Thomas appears distressed. He stands, places a hand against his chest, and sits down again.”
My breath caught.
“He was having a heart attack.”
“That may be what was happening. We need medical experts to interpret the evidence.”
“Did they help him?”
Rebecca's silence frightened me.
“Rebecca?”
“Garrett approaches him. Melissa moves toward the desk. Vivian remains near the doorway.”
“And?”
“The video ends before emergency responders arrive.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“The system lost power.”
A terrible thought formed.
“Someone turned it off.”
“Possibly. We don't have proof yet.”
I looked down at my father's photograph.
He had been frightened.
He had been surrounded by people who wanted him silent.
And when he needed help, something had gone terribly wrong.
“Was an ambulance called?”
“Yes. Emergency records show a call at 9:14 p.m.”
“Who called?”
“Vivian.”
I closed my eyes.
At least someone had called.
But the timing mattered.
The medical examiner's original report described a cardiac event consistent with underlying coronary disease.
My father had been sixty-four and had a history of high blood pressure.
A heart attack was medically plausible.
But the recording raised serious questions about whether anyone had delayed seeking help.
Those questions required evidence, not assumptions.
I knew that.
Still, the uncertainty was unbearable.
Two days later, investigators interviewed Melissa again.
This time, she admitted being present.
According to the statement her attorney later authorized us to discuss, Garrett had asked her to bring certain files to my father's house.
She claimed she arrived expecting a business meeting.
When the argument escalated, she tried to leave.
Vivian told her to stay.
Then my father became ill.
Melissa said she urged Garrett to call an ambulance.
He allegedly told her to wait because Thomas was exaggerating.
Vivian eventually made the emergency call.
Melissa admitted that she had lied about her presence because she feared being blamed for the delay.
I read the summary in silence.
My father had spent his life helping people.
And when he needed help, those around him had argued over what to do.
I didn't know whether the delay had changed the outcome.
But I knew I would never again accept Garrett's version of that night without question.
That evening, I visited Rachel.
Her home was modest and warm, filled with books, family photographs, and the smell of homemade bread.
Her sons, Ethan and Lucas, were finishing homework at the kitchen table.
They greeted me awkwardly.
“Aunt Claire?”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
Ethan looked at his brother.
“Told you.”
I laughed.
“What?”
“He said you wouldn't want us calling you that yet.”
My chest tightened.
I knelt beside them.
“You can call me Aunt Claire whenever you want.”
Lucas grinned.
“Cool.”
It was such a small moment.
But it meant everything.
I had lost a marriage.
I had discovered years of deception.
Yet somehow, I was gaining a family.
After dinner, Rachel and I sat on her back porch.
The autumn air was cold.
She handed me a blanket.
“Do you ever wonder what Dad would say about all this?” she asked.
I smiled sadly.
“He'd probably tell me to stop blaming myself.”
Rachel nodded.
“And then he'd ask whether we'd eaten.”
I laughed.
“He absolutely would.”
For a while, we sat quietly.
Then Rachel asked a question I hadn't expected.
“Do you still love Garrett?”
I stared into the darkness.
The answer wasn't simple.
I had loved the man I thought he was.
I had loved our Sunday mornings, our shared jokes, the way he used to bring me coffee when I worked late.
But I was beginning to understand that memories could be genuine even when the relationship surrounding them was built on lies.
“I loved who I believed he was,” I said.
Rachel nodded.
“That makes sense.”
“But I don't want him back.”
“Good.”
I looked at her.
“Not because I hate him.”
“Then why?”
“Because I finally understand that love without respect isn't enough.”
Rachel squeezed my hand.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Rebecca appeared.
Call me immediately.
I stepped inside.
Rebecca answered before the first ring finished.
“Claire, the insurer has located an additional document.”
“What document?”
“An amendment to the key-person policy.”
I frowned.
“What kind of amendment?”
“It appears Garrett requested a change shortly before your father's death.”
“To what?”
Rebecca's voice tightened.
May you like
“He tried to increase the death benefit from two million dollars to five million.”
End of Chapter 10.
