Page 107 of Deadly Secrets

“Do you think that’s wise? What if he’s involved somehow in all this mess?” She sounded concerned.

“I need to know.”

“And what are these?” Maggie questioned as she picked up the letters and the notes.

“These are the letters Ander sent me when I moved to Switzerland. My father intercepted them. And those”—I paused—“my father received those. It’s the same handwriting from the notes I received from my stalker. Whoever kept sending me black dahlias with a note and tried to poison me at the party is behind my parents’ death. I’m convinced they tried to kill me, too, but didn’t succeed.”

Maggie ground her teeth, the muscles in her jaw tightening.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she stated.

“Me neither. By the way, I haven’t asked you if you’ve already had dinner. Are you hungry? We can order something.” I dropped on the bed next to Maggie without realizing that the wooden box was too close to the edge of the bed.

Thump.

The box hit the floor, resulting in a loose piece of wood. A sinking feeling settled in my stomach, not due to any damage I had caused. It was the sight of the USB drive that had tumbled out, glistening amid the plush carpet.

“What’s that?” Maggie asked.

I picked up the USB from the floor and inspected it.

“No idea. I guess there was a hidden compartment inside the box that I hadn’t noticed before.” I went straight to my luggage and grabbed my laptop. I plugged in the USB drive. There was only a file, a .mov video.

“Why do I have the feeling that this is not a homemade porn movie made by your parents?” Maggie joked although she clearly looked uncomfortable.

“Only one way to find out.” I took a deep breath and double-clicked the file.

It took me a few minutes to recognize the room on the screen. There was a wooden table, big windows, and a sofa in the corner of the room. I had slept on that sofa countless times while my father worked. It was his old office in New York.

My father’s face suddenly covered the screen, and Maggie and I jumped. It looked like he was placing the camera at the right angle before he sat on his chair and opened his laptop.

Why was he filming himself working?

Please, I don’t want my mom to show up wearing a Burberry trench or something like that.

I couldn’t hear a thing, so I turned up the volume.

A knock. It was subtle.

“Come in.” My father’s voice was loud and clear. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. God, how much I missed his voice. I immediately recognized the two men who entered the room—the man in the picture with the white coat and William Scott.

“Thank you for coming. Please, close the door.”

My dad stood, walked around the desk, and leaned on one of the corners of the table while facing the two men.

“You know why I called you both, right?” my dad asked.

“I have no idea, boss,” the man with the white coat replied, shrugging his shoulders. He appeared to be in his late forties to early fifties, sporting a blend of dark blond and salt-and-pepper hair and gentle creases encircling his eyes. He stood taller than William.

“Shut up, Bob,” William blurted. “Stop wasting our time, Edward. If you have something to say, fucking say it. I know why you’ve summoned us. I’m not a fucking fool.” William’s tone was cold and detached although he looked angry.

“Are you sure about that? Because only a fool would do what you’ve done and expect not to be caught.” My father took a printed document from his desk and slowly walked toward William. Once he stood in front of him, he presented the piece of paper. William forcefully snatched it from my father’s hands and stepped away before he looked at it.

“Where did you get this?” William asked with a hint of surprise and, I would guess, fear in his voice.

“Don’t try to deny it, William. I know you’ve been diverting money from Cos Pharma to an offshore account in Panama with Bob’s help. I just want you to explain why someone I have considered my brother since high school felt the need to forge my signature and put everything we’ve built in jeopardy.”

I gulped.

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