CHAPTER 6 – THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
CHAPTER 6 – THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
"Stop her!"
Detective Brooks sprinted after the fleeing nurse.
She shoved past patients.
Knocked over a wheelchair.
Burst through the emergency exit.
Brooks chased her into the parking garage.
She reached a black sedan.
Before she could climb inside—
Bang!
A gunshot echoed through the concrete structure.
The woman collapsed.
Brooks hit the ground behind a parked car.
Another officer yelled,
"Shooter!"
The sedan sped away before anyone could read the license plate.
Brooks crawled toward the fallen woman.
She was still breathing.
Barely.
Blood stained her uniform.
She grabbed his sleeve with desperate strength.
"It..."
She coughed violently.
"...wasn't..."
"What?"
She struggled for air.
"Victor..."
Brooks leaned closer.
"What about Victor?"
"He..."
Her eyes widened with terror.
"He's..."
Before she could finish—
Her hand fell limp.
She was dead.
The only witness who could expose the conspiracy had been silenced.
Brooks returned to the hospital furious.
Nathan was waiting.
"Tell me."
Brooks didn't hide the truth.
"She's dead."
Nathan closed his eyes.
"So we're losing."
Brooks shook his head.
"No."
"We're getting closer."
He placed several photographs on the table.
Security footage.
Bank records.
Phone logs.
Victor's executive assistant had transferred nearly five hundred thousand dollars into accounts connected to the fake pharmacy employee.
Then another photograph.
Grace.
Taken eleven years earlier.
Standing outside Saint Anne's Community Kitchen.
Nathan smiled sadly.
"I've never seen this."
Brooks pointed to someone in the background.
Nathan looked carefully.
His blood froze.
Victor.
Watching Grace from across the street.
The photograph had been taken one year before Grace died.
"He knew her trust existed," Brooks said quietly.
"Maybe."
"No."
Brooks slid over another document.
Private investigator invoices.
All paid by Victor.
For years.
Victor had secretly followed Grace.
Then Owen.
Then Nathan.
For a decade.
Every move.
Every doctor.
Every hospital.
Every financial decision.
Nathan's hands curled into fists.
"He was waiting."
Brooks nodded.
"He expected Owen to die naturally."
"But when Clara changed that..."
"...he accelerated the plan."
That night Nathan finally opened the last envelope in Grace's secret compartment.
There was only one sentence.
"If Victor ever discovers this box before you do..."
"Run."
Nathan stared at the page.
Grace had known.
She had known before she died that Victor couldn't be trusted.
But why hadn't she told him?
Unless...
She never had the chance.
Nathan suddenly looked toward Detective Brooks.
"Reopen my wife's death investigation."
Brooks looked stunned.
"Nathan..."
"My wife didn't simply collapse."
The room became deathly quiet.
Nathan's voice dropped to a whisper.
"I think Grace was murdered."
At that exact moment, Nathan's phone buzzed with an alert from the security team at the Whitmore estate.
BREAK-IN DETECTED.
The attic.
The hidden wall.
Grace's cedar chest.
May you like
Someone had broken into the house—
And they were searching for whatever secrets Nathan still hadn't found.
