Chapter 13 - Marcus Talks
Marcus Vale did not look like the monster I imagined.
Detective Greene later described him as ordinary.
Forty-two years old.
Business haircut.
Expensive watch.
Quiet voice.
Men like him survived by appearing reasonable.
He refused to answer questions for six hours.
Then police confronted him with the disposable phone.
The payments.
The surveillance.
The documents.
And Grandmother’s letter.
Marcus asked for an attorney.
By midnight, negotiations began.
He offered information.
The prosecutor offered nothing guaranteed.
Still, Marcus talked.
My father had hired him.
Not to harm me.
At first.
The original agreement was intimidation.
Follow Claire.
Send warnings.
Make her believe her family could reach her anywhere.
My father wanted me frightened before the legal deadline.
Marcus claimed he repeatedly told my father he would not physically injure a pregnant woman.
I almost laughed when Detective Greene repeated that.
As if he wanted moral credit.
Then Vanessa’s debt complicated everything.
Marcus realized my father could not pay what he owed.
He also learned about the trust clause.
That was when he considered his own leverage.
If something serious happened to me, my father would become vulnerable.
Marcus could then threaten to expose the arrangement unless he received more money.
It was not an inheritance plot from Marcus.
It was extortion built on top of an inheritance plot.
Ryan looked disgusted.
“So everyone was using everyone.”
“Yes.”
“Did Marcus order the kick?”
“No evidence of that.”
“Did my father?”
“No evidence of that either.”
The backyard attack appeared to be Vanessa’s impulsive escalation of my mother’s intimidation plan.
But that did not make my parents innocent.
They created the confrontation.
They created the pressure.
They brought Marcus into our lives.
They turned family resentment into something dangerous.
Then Detective Greene told us what Marcus said about the break-in.
He denied entering our house.
He claimed someone else did.
“Who?”
I asked.
“He says your father hired a second person.”
Ryan stopped moving.
“For what?”
“Marcus doesn’t know.”
That sounded impossible.
But police checked.
My father had withdrawn fifteen thousand dollars in cash three days before the break-in.
The money was missing.
Marcus said it was not his.
My mother claimed she knew nothing.
Vanessa knew nothing.
My father refused to answer.
For the first time, Marcus might have been telling the truth.
Someone else had entered our home.
Someone else had stolen Grandmother’s letter.
Someone else had later left it with Ethan.
Why?
Then Ethan remembered a detail.
He had seen the woman who left the envelope.
She was not wearing a hood that time.
His doorbell camera captured part of her face.
Police enhanced the image.
Detective Greene recognized her.
Her name was Allison Reed.
She worked for my father.
His executive assistant.
I had met her dozens of times.
She came to birthday dinners.
Christmas parties.
My parents’ anniversary.
She knew our family.
She knew me.
When police went to her apartment, Allison was gone.
But she left behind a laptop.
On it was a draft email addressed to me.
May you like
The subject line contained three words.
Your father lied.
