Chapter 6 - The Dead Man Calling
"You're lying."
I wanted her to be lying.
Mom wrapped both arms around herself.
"I'm not."
Mason was already calling someone.
I grabbed Mom's wrist.
"Tell me everything."
"This isn't the place."
"My sister was just abducted."
"I know."
"Then start talking."
She looked toward the garage cameras.
Then lowered her voice.
"Richard worked with your father."
"Doing what?"
"I don't know exactly."
"Don't do that."
"I'm telling you the truth."
"You forged my signature and tried to steal millions. Your definition of truth needs work."
She flinched.
Good.
"I met Richard twenty years ago at an embassy dinner."
"What country?"
"Germany."
"Then?"
"He was charming. He understood finance. Investments. International markets."
"You invested with him?"
"At first."
"How much?"
"Twenty thousand."
"And Dad found out?"
"Not until later."
"Later when?"
"When Richard asked me to introduce him to military families."
My stomach turned.
"You recruited people?"
"I didn't know."
"Stop saying that!"
My voice cracked through the garage.
"You introduced a financial operator to families with military connections and never asked why he wanted them?"
"I thought it was networking."
Mason returned.
"Command has a vehicle alert out. Local law enforcement has the plate."
Mom looked at him.
"That won't help."
"Why?"
"The plate will be fake."
Mason stared at her.
"You know how Voss works?"
Her silence answered him.
"Jesus Christ," I whispered.
Mom suddenly looked twenty years older.
"When your father found out, he lost his mind. He forced me to cut contact."
"Forced?"
"He threatened divorce."
"Maybe because you were feeding military families to a financial intelligence network."
"I didn't know that!"
"You knew eventually."
She looked away.
"When?"
"Years later."
"How many years?"
"After you joined the Army."
I stopped.
"You knew I joined?"
Mom's face went blank.
My heart began pounding.
"You knew?"
She swallowed.
"Not your rank."
"But you knew I wasn't a civilian employee."
"Your father told me enough."
Rage flooded through me.
All those years.
The fake concern.
The comments about my "little government job."
The insults.
She had known part of the truth.
"You humiliated me tonight knowing I served?"
"I was angry."
"You told me Dad would be ashamed."
"I wanted you to listen."
"You wanted control."
She looked away.
Mason stepped closer.
"How did Voss contact you?"
"Six months ago."
"How?"
"Email first."
"What did he want?"
"Access to Andrew's trust."
"Why?"
"He said there was money in it that belonged to him."
"What money?"
"I don't know."
I laughed bitterly.
"There it is again."
"He showed me records."
"What records?"
"Transfers your father made before he died."
Mason and I exchanged a look.
"How much?"
I asked.
"Nine million dollars."
That number hit hard.
My father's secondary trust was worth eleven million.
"What did Voss promise you?"
Mom's eyes dropped.
"Half."
"You tried to steal my trust for money."
"I thought it was ours!"
"You forged my signature."
"I thought you would refuse."
"I did refuse."
"Because you're just like your father!"
"And thank God for that."
She slapped me with her stare this time.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone stopped.
I answered.
"Olivia Bennett."
A man's voice replied.
Smooth.
Older.
Calm.
"You sound exactly like Andrew."
My blood turned cold.
"Where's my sister?"
"Safe for the moment."
Mom covered her mouth.
"Voss?"
The man laughed softly.
"Hello, Linda."
Mason stepped close enough to hear.
I put the call on speaker.
"If you hurt Sienna—"
"I don't want to hurt her."
"What do you want?"
"You know what I want."
"The trust."
"Not all of it."
"Then how much?"
"Nine million, three hundred thousand."
Specific.
Too specific.
"Why?"
"Because your father stole it from me."
"My father didn't steal."
"Every daughter believes that until she learns who her father really was."
I clenched my jaw.
"Proof."
"You'll get it."
"When?"
"Very soon."
A notification appeared on my phone.
A video file.
I opened it.
Sienna sat tied to a chair in a dark room.
Terrified.
Alive.
She looked directly into the camera.
Then Voss's voice came through the recording.
"Authorize the transfer by midnight tomorrow."
The image changed.
A photograph appeared.
My father.
Younger.
Standing beside Richard Voss.
And beside them...
my mother.
All three were smiling.
The next image made my breath stop.
It was a bank transfer record from sixteen years ago.
Sender:
ANDREW BENNETT.
Recipient:
NORTHSTAR STRATEGIC HOLDINGS.
Amount:
$9,300,000.
Voss returned to the call.
"Ask yourself one question, Colonel."
I couldn't speak.
"If your father hated Northstar so much..."
May you like
His voice lowered.
"...why did he send us nine million dollars?"
