Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN RICHARD THOUGHT WAS DEAD
The laptop contained a video.
It was dated six days before Danielle died.
Amara refused to watch at first.
Richard didn’t pressure her.
Then, late that evening, she changed her mind.
Danielle appeared on screen sitting in their Chicago kitchen.
Same refrigerator.
Same cracked cabinet.
Same blue mug.
Her face looked tired.
“Amara, if you’re seeing this, then I’m sorry.”
Amara covered her mouth.
Richard stood near the back of the room.
Danielle continued.
“I wanted you to have a normal childhood.”
She explained that she had spent years collecting evidence against Malcolm’s network.
She had avoided Richard because she feared his loyalty to his brother.
That hurt him.
Because it was justified.
Then Danielle said something unexpected.
“Richard, Lorraine was right about you.”
Richard stepped closer.
“You were arrogant, impossible, and sometimes cruel.”
Amara almost smiled through tears.
“But she also believed you could change.”
Danielle looked directly into the camera.
“I’m taking one last chance on that.”
The video ended.
Except there were another thirteen seconds.
A woman entered the kitchen behind Danielle.
Only her shoulder appeared.
An older woman’s voice said, “You can’t send that yet.”
Richard froze.
He knew the voice.
“No.”
Elena replayed it.
Richard stepped closer.
“No.”
“What?”
“That’s Lorraine.”
Amara stared.
“My grandmother?”
“She died seventeen years ago.”
Elena isolated the audio.
Danielle responded.
“Then when?”
The woman said, “When we know who inside Hawthorne can be trusted.”
Video ended.
Amara looked at Richard.
“You said she died.”
“I attended the funeral.”
“Did you see her?”
Richard thought.
Closed casket.
Lorraine’s car had burned.
Identification reportedly came through dental records.
“No.”
Elena began searching.
Three hours later, a facial-recognition system found a possible match.
A woman named Lorna Ellis.
Sixty-eight.
Registered nurse.
Living in Providence, Rhode Island.
Richard, Amara, Elena, and two agents drove there.
The house was small.
Blue shutters.
Snow on the steps.
Amara stood behind Richard as Elena knocked.
An older Black woman opened the door.
She looked at Amara.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh, baby.”
Amara didn’t move.
The woman began crying.
Richard whispered, “Lorraine.”
She looked at him.
“Still too rich for your own good, I see.”
Richard nearly collapsed.
Lorraine Lewis was alive.
Amara stepped backward.
“You’re my grandma?”
Lorraine nodded.
“Why did Mom tell me you were dead?”
“To keep you safe.”
Amara’s face hardened.
“Everybody keeps saying that.”
Lorraine closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Amara started crying.
“My mom is dead and you were alive the whole time?”
Lorraine reached for her.
Amara moved away.
Richard intervened quietly.
“Give her space.”
Lorraine looked at him.
“You giving parenting advice is a sign the world is ending.”
Despite everything, Richard smiled.
Inside, Lorraine told the story.
In 2009 she had discovered payments connecting Malcolm to city inspectors.
Before she could testify, someone tampered with her car.
She survived because a mechanic noticed the brake line before she drove.
Federal investigators offered limited protection while they pursued the case.
Then the investigation collapsed after a key witness disappeared.
Lorraine believed Malcolm had people inside local government.
She staged her death with help from an investigator.
“Danielle knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she come with you?”
“She refused.”
Lorraine’s eyes filled.
“She had just started college. She said she wasn’t spending her life running.”
Richard asked, “Why didn’t you contact me?”
“You still defended Malcolm.”
He had no response.
Lorraine turned to Amara.
“I watched you grow from far away.”
“That’s creepy.”
Lorraine actually laughed.
“Yes, it probably is.”
“Did Mom see you?”
“Sometimes.”
“Recently?”
“Six days before she died.”
“What happened?”
Lorraine’s expression changed.
“She told me she had finally found the missing account.”
Richard leaned forward.
“What account?”
“The one connecting Malcolm personally to Harbor Point.”
“Where?”
“She didn’t tell me.”
“Why?”
“She didn’t trust phones.”
Amara suddenly remembered the photograph.
She removed it.
Danielle near the lake.
She looked at the background.
A building stood beyond the water.
Richard recognized it.
“Hawthorne boathouse.”
“Where?”
“Outside Boston.”
Lorraine stared.
“That was where Malcolm kept old corporate files.”
The lake photograph wasn’t sentimental.
It was a clue.
They drove to the Hawthorne family property the next morning.
The boathouse had not been used in years.
Dust covered everything.
Amara noticed a loose floorboard.
Children notice things adults ignore.
Underneath was a waterproof box.
Inside were accounting ledgers.
And a letter.
Not to Richard.
To Malcolm.
Written by Danielle.
I know what you did to my mother. I know what you did to the Harbor Point families. And I know what you’re planning to do to Richard.
Below it:
If I die, you lose everything.
Richard sat down.
“She knew.”
Elena opened the ledger.
Payments linked Malcolm to Elliot Graves.
New Horizons.
Building inspectors.
A pharmacy contractor.
And a physician.
May you like
Dr. Samuel Price.
The doctor who signed Danielle Lewis’s death certificate.
