Chapter 12 - The Ghost of the Past
I spent the entire night reading through the dossier my father had left behind in the hidden wall safe. The documents painted a chilling portrait of a man I thought I knew.
Five years before Ryan met me, he had been married to a woman named Clara Vance—no relation to Victor Vance, but sharing the same tragic fate. Clara had inherited a lucrative waterfront property from her grandfather. Eighteen months into their marriage, Clara suffered a 'fatal drowning accident' while boating on Lake Michigan. Ryan inherited the entire estate, sold the property within a month, and used the capital to launch his architectural firm.
My father, who had always been suspicious of Ryan’s smooth charm, had hired a private investigator back when Ryan and I first started dating. The investigator had uncovered Clara’s death certificate, autopsy reports pointing to blunt-force trauma prior to drowning, and a suppressed police report.
Why hadn't my father gone to the police back then? Because Clara’s family had accepted a quiet settlement from Ryan’s insurance policy, and without direct cooperation from next-of-kin, the prosecutor's office declined to reopen the file.
'He’s a serial predator,' I whispered into the quiet darkness of the study, the paper trembling in my bandaged hand. 'He didn't just try to burn me for a house. He planned to make it look like a domestic accident so he could inherit everything—just like he did with Clara.'
I picked up my phone and dialed Detective Miller’s direct extension. It was 3:00 AM, but I knew he’d answer.
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'Miller,' a gruff voice grunted on the other end.
'Detective,' I said, my voice steady and cold. 'I have proof that Ryan didn't just try to kill me. He murdered his first wife five years ago.'
