Chapter 8 - THE SON MY FATHER PROTECTED
I didn’t believe Vance.
Not at first.
Lucas was arrogant.
Cruel sometimes.
Spoiled almost beyond repair.
But murder?
Fraud?
Threats?
That was different.
Then Detective Harris called.
The reflection in the safe photograph had been enhanced.
The watch matched Lucas’s model.
Not proof.
But enough to question him.
Lucas admitted being at Dad’s house that night.
He claimed he arrived at eleven thirty.
That contradicted his original statement.
“Why lie?” I asked Harris.
“He says Elaine told him to.”
Of course she did.
“What was he doing in the study?”
“He says he was looking for insurance papers.”
“After Dad died?”
“He claims Elaine asked him.”
“And the safe?”
“He denies opening it.”
By then, I had learned one thing.
In my family, everyone denied everything until evidence appeared.
I requested a private meeting with Lucas.
Harris hated the idea.
So did Samuel.
I did it anyway.
We met at a coffee shop.
Lucas arrived wearing sunglasses indoors.
“You have ten minutes.”
I looked at him.
“Dad was changing the will.”
He said nothing.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“Vance says Dad was afraid of you.”
That got his attention.
“Vance is protecting his ass.”
“Then tell me why.”
Lucas looked toward the window.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
He laughed without humor.
“You think Dad loved me?”
“He gave you everything.”
“That’s not love.”
For the first time, he sounded human.
“Dad fixed problems,” Lucas said. “That was his version of love.”
“What problems?”
He rubbed his hands together.
“When I was twenty-two, I got drunk and crashed Dad’s Porsche.”
“I remember.”
“What you don’t know is there was someone in the car.”
I stared at him.
“A girl.”
“Was she hurt?”
Lucas swallowed.
“She died.”
My stomach turned.
“There was no death reported.”
“Because Dad handled it.”
“How?”
“He said I wasn’t driving.”
I understood.
Someone else took the blame.
“Who?”
“Our groundskeeper.”
I felt cold.
“Dad paid him?”
“Paid his family.”
“Jesus.”
Lucas’s voice shook now.
“That wasn’t the only thing.”
Shoplifting.
Cocaine.
A bar fight that left a man hospitalized.
Fraud involving a company expense account.
Dad cleaned up everything.
“Why?”
“Because I was his son.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“That’s not why.”
Lucas glared at me.
“What would you know?”
“Because I was his daughter.”
That shut him up.
Dad hadn’t protected me.
Whatever he felt toward Lucas was more complicated.
Fear.
Guilt.
Obligation.
“What happened six months ago?” I asked.
Lucas stared at his coffee.
“I borrowed money.”
“How much?”
“Six million.”
I almost laughed.
“Borrowed from who?”
“A private lender.”
“For what?”
“An investment.”
“Drugs?”
“No.”
“Gambling?”
His silence answered.
“Jesus, Lucas.”
“I thought I could recover it.”
“With Dad’s money?”
“With mine.”
“You didn’t have six million dollars.”
“I thought I would after he died.”
There it was.
The ugliest sentence yet.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You said it.”
“Dad found out.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
The same time Dad contacted Samuel.
“He told me he was cutting me off.”
“And changing his will?”
Lucas nodded.
My heart pounded.
“So you needed the old will.”
He stood.
“I’m done.”
I grabbed his wrist.
“Did you kill him?”
His face twisted.
“No.”
“Were you in his study after he died?”
“Yes.”
“Did you open the safe?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
He pulled his arm away.
Then his expression changed.
Not anger anymore.
Fear.
“My mother.”
I stared at him.
Lucas leaned close.
“She called me that night at eleven twenty-eight.”
“What did she say?”
His voice dropped.
“She said Dad had collapsed.”
“And?”
“She told me to come quickly.”
“Why?”
“Because there was something in the safe that could ruin both of us.”
He started toward the door.
“Lucas.”
He stopped.
“What was it?”
He looked back.
“I never saw it.”
“Then how do you know it matters?”
“Because when I got there, the safe was open.”
My pulse hammered.
“And your mother?”
Lucas swallowed.
May you like
“She was burning papers in the fireplace.”
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