The second name on the first page belonged to Adrian Vale.
I knew the name because Penelope had said it exactly once in six years.
Adrian had been her late husband’s business partner.
Caleb’s father had died years before I married into the family, and according to Caleb, Adrian and Penelope had despised each other after a dispute over the family company.
Silas leaned toward the page.
“That man tried to ruin her once before.”
I kept reading.
According to the investigator, Jasper had received regular payments from an account connected to one of Adrian’s companies for nearly eight months.
There were photographs of Jasper meeting Adrian outside restaurants, in parking lots, once inside a hotel lobby.
Then I found copies of property documents.
Penelope had transferred partial control of a valuable parcel of family land days after the wedding.
My pulse jumped.
“She signed this?”
Silas nodded slowly.
“She told me Jasper wanted security.”
“That isn’t security.
That’s leverage.”
Beneath the deed was another sheet.
It contained only dates, short notes, and one line Penelope had written by hand:
He knows where Daniel is.
“Who is Daniel?” I asked.
Silas closed his eyes.
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then he whispered, “Penelope’s younger brother.”
I stared at him.
Caleb had never mentioned an uncle named Daniel.
Silas looked older suddenly.
“Daniel left Oakhaven twenty-four years ago after a terrible fight with Penelope’s husband.
He was young.
Angry.
He disappeared.
We heard from him occasionally at first, then nothing for years.”
“And Jasper found him?”
“Or claims he did.”
The words from the bedroom returned to me.
Please, don’t send him.
Not send Jasper.
Send Daniel.
Send him where?
Before I could ask, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
I shoved everything back into the envelope.
Caleb entered.
“What are you doing in here?”
I looked at my husband and realized that telling him half the truth would only drive him straight to his mother.
And his mother, terrified as she was, would deny everything.
So I said, “Looking for Grandpa’s medicine schedule.”
Caleb frowned but accepted it.
That night, I barely slept.
At two in the morning, Penelope came into the kitchen.
She was wearing the same shawl.
I was already sitting at the table.
“I saw the folder,” I said.
She stopped.
There was no point pretending.
“Then you should understand why I told you to stay out of it.”
“No.
