Chapter 12 - The Letter Jason Wanted
Daniel reached inside his briefcase.
“Lily gave me three sealed envelopes.”
“You read one at the funeral.”
“Yes.”
“And the second?”
“For you.”
“What about the third?”
Daniel looked toward Detective Alvarez.
“It can only be opened if Jason attempts to flee or threaten a family member.”
My pulse jumped.
“He just did both.”
Daniel nodded.
The envelope was thicker than the first.
Across the front, Lily had written:
IF JASON RUNS, HE KNOWS THE TRUTH IS CLOSE.
Daniel opened it.
Inside was a handwritten statement and a small storage key.
Lily wrote that Jason kept a private rented unit under a false name.
She had found a monthly charge buried inside his credit card records.
Unit 214.
Garrison Storage.
Thirty miles outside town.
Detective Alvarez was already on the phone.
“We need units there now.”
I read the rest.
Jason thinks I don’t know about the storage unit. I followed him once. Charles was there. So was Margaret.
Then one line was underlined twice.
If he runs, he may go there before he disappears.
Police reached Garrison Storage nineteen minutes later.
Unit 214 was open.
Jason had already been there.
Security footage showed his truck arriving at 6:11 that evening.
He left twenty minutes later carrying two duffel bags.
But he missed something.
Inside the unit, agents found a locked filing cabinet.
Cash.
Fake company seals.
Blank contracts bearing copied signatures.
Three passports.
And one black notebook.
Jason’s notebook.
It contained payment records going back four years.
Next to several transfers were initials.
C.W.
M.R.
And J.R.
Charles Whitmore.
Margaret Reed.
Jason Reed.
Mom stared at Margaret’s initials.
“She got paid?”
Daniel turned a page.
“Looks like it.”
“Her own son paid her?”
“No.”
He pointed.
The transfers came from Whitmore-linked accounts.
Margaret hadn’t just protected Jason.
She had been part of the scheme.
Then Alvarez’s phone rang.
She listened.
“Where?”
Her face changed.
“We’re on our way.”
“What?” I asked.
She grabbed her coat.
“Jason’s truck was found.”
“Where?”
“Near Lake Grayson.”
“Is he there?”
“No.”
The truck was empty.
One duffel bag was missing.
The second was inside the cab with eighty thousand dollars in cash.
There was blood on the steering wheel.
Not much.
Enough to notice.
On the passenger seat was Lily’s wedding ring.
I stared through the truck window.
Jason had removed it from her body before paramedics arrived.
He told police it had fallen off during the accident.
He had lied about that too.
Then a deputy called from the tree line.
“We found something!”
We ran.
Twenty yards into the woods sat a small burned pile.
Documents.
Clothing.
A phone.
Alvarez crouched.
“He’s destroying evidence.”
A second deputy approached.
“Detective.”
He held a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a motel key card.
Room 18.
Bluebird Motor Lodge.
And written on the back in black marker was one name.
EMILY.
I stared at it.
May you like
Jason wasn’t running from me.
He was waiting for me.
