Chapter 8 - The Father Who Lied Once Had One More Secret
Finley didn't yell.
That was worse.
He simply stared at Richard.
Tessa held the baby tighter.
I watched Richard age another ten years in ten seconds.
Finally Finley said, “Tell me she's wrong.”
Richard's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
“Dad.”
“I paid him.”
Tessa inhaled sharply.
Finley looked down at his son.
“Take Finn.”
She did.
Then Finley gripped the arms of his wheelchair.
“You paid the man who kidnapped me?”
“No.”
“You just said—”
“I paid him after he contacted me.”
“For silence.”
“For information.”
Mara stepped forward.
“What information?”
“Where Marcus had taken Finley.”
Everyone went still.
Richard looked at Mara.
“He called me from the shipyard. Said Marcus was panicking because Finley refused to tell him where the documents were.”
“And you paid him?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you call police?”
Richard laughed bitterly.
“Because apparently I learn nothing.”
Finley turned away.
“That part I believe.”
Richard flinched.
He continued.
“I paid him to move Finley.”
“Move me where?”
“The quarry.”
Finley looked back.
Understanding came slowly.
“You arranged my escape.”
“I arranged an opportunity.”
“You could've told police.”
“Yes.”
“You could've ended this.”
“Yes.”
“You chose another secret.”
Richard's eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Finley leaned back.
“Get out.”
“Finley—”
“Get out.”
Richard left.
No one stopped him.
Later, Mara confirmed parts of his story.
Money had moved from Richard's private account to one of the kidnappers.
Phone records placed Richard near the quarry before police arrived.
Investigators now had a mess instead of a clean villain.
Marcus had allegedly ordered the kidnapping.
Richard had allegedly interfered after the fact.
Both men had concealed Finley's identity for years.
And in the middle sat a newborn.
Tessa was released from immediate custody that afternoon.
Prosecutors had not decided what to do about the beach abandonment, but investigators accepted that she had acted under threat and deliberately ensured I was close.
Child services still didn't return Finn immediately.
That nearly broke her.
“He needs me.”
“I know.”
“He's four days old.”
“I know.”
“They're making me ask permission to touch my own child.”
Finley took her hand.
“We'll get him back.”
She looked at him.
“You disappeared.”
“I know.”
“You don't get to say ‘we'll be okay’ like that's a promise anymore.”
He lowered his eyes.
“You're right.”
I liked him for not defending himself.
That evening, he and I sat alone in the hospital cafeteria.
For seventeen years, Elena had mourned him publicly and loved him privately.
Now I had a thousand questions and no idea which one deserved to go first.
Finley solved that.
“She talked about you constantly.”
I looked at him.
“In letters?”
“Calls too.”
“She called you?”
“Burners. Once every few months.”
“Why didn't she tell me?”
“She wanted to.”
“That doesn't help.”
“No.”
He stirred bad coffee.
“She thought Marcus would come after anyone who knew.”
“Did she know about the trust?”
“Yes.”
“So she knew your child could inherit.”
“Yes.”
“And she still didn't tell me.”
Finley met my eyes.
“She was raised by Richard.”
That answer was unfair.
And accurate.
“What happened the night you disappeared?”
Finley took a long breath.
“I found transfer records. Marcus had created vendors that didn't exist. Money left employee accounts and went through offshore entities.”
“You were seventeen.”
“I was good with computers and bored.”
“So you confronted him?”
“Worst decision of my life.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing at first. He laughed.”
Finley's mouth tightened.
“Then my father found out.”
“Richard.”
“He told me Marcus was dangerous. Told me if I went to police, Elena could be dragged into it. Said our mother could lose everything.”
“And you believed him.”
“I was seventeen.”
He looked toward the nursery floor above us.
“Dad arranged a boat accident. Said I'd disappear for six months while he ‘fixed it.’”
“But you stayed gone.”
“Because after six months, he told me Marcus had threatened Elena.”
“Was that true?”
“I don't know.”
“And Ruth?”
“My mother found me six years later.”
“How?”
“She hired someone.”
I almost smiled.
“That sounds like Ruth.”
“She got me new documents. Helped me start over. Made me promise not to contact Elena until she could prepare her.”
“But you did.”
“Of course.”
He smiled.
“She punched me.”
“Elena?”
“Hard.”
I laughed.
“She cried after.”
“I figured.”
We sat quietly.
Then I asked, “Why name your son Finn?”
Finley stared at his coffee.
“I didn't.”
“Tessa told me Elena suggested it.”
“She did.”
He smiled faintly.
“In her last letter, she wrote, ‘If you get another chance at that name, make it mean something happier.’”
My eyes burned.
Finley continued.
“Tessa loved it.”
“So did you?”
“No.”
I looked at him.
He grinned.
“I wanted Jack.”
I laughed so loudly people looked over.
For five seconds, we were family.
Then Mara called.
She had found something in the financial records.
Not just theft.
Marcus had diverted money from a medical benefits fund.
Hundreds of employees had lost coverage.
Some had delayed treatment.
One name stopped me cold.
Elena Rowan.
I stared at Mara.
“What?”
“She was listed under the Holloway executive family plan,” Mara said. “Her coverage was partially administered through the same trust accounts.”
My skin went cold.
“Are you saying Marcus stole money from Elena's medical coverage?”
“No. I'm saying her insurer denied several experimental treatments because a supplemental fund had been depleted.”
I stopped breathing.
“Would those treatments have saved her?”
“We can't know that.”
Finley stood despite the pain.
“Don't.”
Mara shook her head.
“There is no evidence Marcus caused Elena's death.”
But facts don't need to prove murder to destroy you.
Marcus had stolen from a fund that might have helped her.
He had turned people's illness into money.
Finley looked at me.
His grief mirrored mine.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
You think Elena was the victim? Ask who signed the fund transfers.
Attached was a scanned document.
At the bottom:
Richard Holloway.
Finley read it over my shoulder.
His face emptied.
May you like
“My father signed them.”
The villain in our story had just become harder to name.
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