CHAPTER 5: The Crash That Never Left
CHAPTER 5: The Crash That Never Left
Richard did not remember hanging up the phone.
One second he was standing in Ethan's bedroom doorway, watching his son sleep with one hand wrapped around the stuffed bear Emily had given him before she died.
The next, he was sitting alone in his study, staring into darkness.
Detective Alan Brooks' final sentence echoed again and again.
"Your wife's death may not have been an accident."
For ten years Richard had lived with guilt.
He believed he had pushed Emily to drive through a snowstorm because he had insisted on attending an investor dinner instead of joining her and Ethan on a weekend trip.
He had replayed that decision thousands of times.
Now someone was telling him the truth might be even worse.
The following morning Richard arrived at police headquarters before sunrise.
Detective Brooks placed a thick evidence box on the conference table.
"We're reopening the case."
Richard looked at the faded label.
Emily Blackwood — Vehicle Collision. Closed.
Closed.
One careless word.
One destroyed family.
Brooks opened the file.
"The original investigation concluded that icy roads caused your wife's SUV to lose control."
"I remember."
"There was one problem."
He slid a photograph forward.
The image showed the underside of Emily's vehicle.
A damaged brake line.
Richard frowned.
"They said that happened during the impact."
Brooks nodded.
"That's what everyone believed."
"Believed?"
"We recently used modern forensic imaging."
He handed Richard a new report.
"The brake line was cut before the collision."
The room became silent.
Not damaged.
Cut.
Deliberately.
Richard's pulse pounded.
"Who had access to the vehicle?"
Brooks answered without hesitation.
"The mechanic."
"The valet."
"The house staff."
"And anyone with access to your garage."
Richard immediately thought of Cassandra.
But Brooks raised a hand.
"We don't investigate assumptions."
"We investigate evidence."
Richard forced himself to nod.
Years of business had taught him one lesson.
Facts first.
Emotion later.
Meanwhile, Cassandra remained confident.
She sat inside her luxury condominium reviewing social media.
Sympathetic comments continued pouring in.
"Stay strong."
"You sacrificed everything."
"Some men don't appreciate loyal women."
She smiled.
Public opinion was moving exactly where she wanted.
Then her assistant entered nervously.
"There's someone here."
"I don't have appointments."
"He says he has a package."
"A courier?"
"No."
The assistant swallowed.
"An FBI financial investigator."
Cassandra's smile disappeared.
Back at Blackwood Capital, Richard ordered an internal audit.
Nothing related to acquisitions.
Nothing related to investments.
Everything related to Cassandra.
Expense reports.
Foundation accounts.
Personal assistants.
Household spending.
Within hours, the company's chief financial officer entered Richard's office carrying another folder.
"You need to see this."
Richard opened it.
Monthly grocery bills.
Average spending before Cassandra moved in:
$2,800.
Average spending after she moved in:
Nearly $9,000.
Richard frowned.
"Nine thousand?"
"Mostly luxury food."
"Caviar."
"Imported seafood."
"Private wine deliveries."
He flipped another page.
Children's food purchases.
Almost nonexistent.
The realization was sickening.
His son had been starving inside a house spending thousands of dollars each month on food.
That afternoon Richard picked Ethan up from school.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, buddy?"
"Can we go somewhere?"
"Anywhere."
"The library."
Richard smiled.
"The library?"
"I've never been."
Richard stopped walking.
"You've never..."
Ethan shook his head.
"Cassandra said books get dirty."
Richard closed his eyes for a second.
"Then today we fix that."
For two hours they wandered quietly through rows of books.
Ethan touched the shelves as if entering another world.
Dinosaurs.
Space.
Pirates.
Magic.
History.
His excitement grew with every aisle.
Finally he carried seven books to the checkout desk.
Then slowly put five back.
Richard noticed.
"Changed your mind?"
Ethan whispered,
"I don't want them to cost too much."
Richard knelt beside him.
"You can borrow all of them."
"They're free?"
"They're all free."
Ethan looked stunned.
"Forever?"
Richard laughed through tears.
"No."
"But you can always come back."
The little boy hugged the stack of books against his chest.
It was the happiest Richard had seen him.
Such a simple joy.
One Cassandra had stolen for years.
Late that evening Detective Brooks called again.
"We found the mechanic."
"And?"
"He died four years ago."
Richard's heart sank.
"But..."
Brooks continued,
"Before he died, he left recorded testimony with his attorney."
Richard froze.
"A testimony?"
"He said someone paid him fifty thousand dollars to replace security footage from your garage."
Richard's voice became dangerously quiet.
"Did he say who?"
Brooks answered.
"Yes."
May you like
Richard stopped breathing.
"The payment came from an account controlled by Cassandra Vale."
