Chapter 8 - THE CONFESSION
Robert Walker finally talked.
Not to the police.
To me.
Through a recorded attorney-approved interview.
He sat behind glass.
Older than I'd remembered.
Thinner.
His hair almost completely gray.
But his eyes were the same.
I had seen those eyes at family gatherings.
At Christmas.
At my father's funeral.
Eyes that never looked directly at me.
Now they did.
“I didn't kill your father,” he said.
I said nothing.
He continued.
“But I knew he was going to die.”
My chest tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“He was planning to expose everything.”
“What everything?”
“The companies.”
“The land?”
“Yes.”
“Your brother was involved?”
Robert nodded.
“Daniel was already stealing money.”
I closed my eyes.
“How long?”
“Years.”
“Why did you help him?”
Robert looked ashamed.
“Greed.”
At least he was honest.
“My father trusted you.”
“I know.”
“He loved you.”
“I know.”
“You betrayed him.”
Robert looked down.
“Yes.”
I wanted to hate him.
But what I felt was worse.
Disgust.
“What happened the night my father died?”
Robert swallowed.
“Your father confronted Daniel.”
“About what?”
“The trust.”
I stared.
“He knew?”
“He knew Daniel had forged documents.”
“What happened?”
“They argued.”
“And?”
“Your father had a heart condition.”
I held my breath.
“Daniel threatened him.”
Robert closed his eyes.
“He didn't touch him.”
“Then what happened?”
“He told your father he would destroy everything you owned.”
My hands shook.
“My father had a heart attack.”
“Yes.”
“Was it natural?”
Robert hesitated.
“No.”
I felt my stomach twist.
“What did Daniel do?”
“He withheld your father's medication.”
Silence.
“He knew your father needed it.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“He let him die.”
Robert nodded.
“I didn't stop him.”
I couldn't speak.
For years, I'd believed my father had died peacefully.
He hadn't.
He had died afraid.
Knowing the people closest to him were betraying his daughter.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Daniel threatened me.”
“You were afraid?”
“Yes.”
I stood.
“You let me live with him.”
Robert lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
“You watched him destroy me.”
“I know.”
“You watched him hurt me.”
“I know.”
My voice broke.
“And you did nothing.”
He began crying.
“I was a coward.”
I turned away.
Then he said:
“There is something you don't know.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“Daniel didn't just want your father's land.”
I looked back.
“What else?”
“He wanted the trust.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Robert shook his head.
“He wanted something inside it.”
“What?”
“A clause.”
“What clause?”
He leaned toward the glass.
“Your father discovered a hidden account.”
My heart stopped.
“How much?”
“More than twenty million dollars.”
I stared.
“Where?”
“Inside the trust.”
“Why?”
“Your father had been saving it for you.”
I could barely breathe.
“Why didn't anyone know?”
“Because it was protected.”
“Protected from whom?”
Robert looked at me.
“Everyone.”
The room went silent.
Then he said:
“Your father knew one day they would come for you.”
I whispered:
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“What was the account for?”
Robert smiled sadly.
“Your future.”
I closed my eyes.
My father had spent his final years protecting a future he feared he would never see.
And my husband had spent those same years trying to steal it.
Robert's voice softened.
“There's one more thing.”
“What?”
“Daniel knows about the account.”
I froze.
“How?”
“Because I told him.”
The door behind me opened.
Detective Harris stepped inside.
“We have a problem.”
I turned.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“Your husband just surfaced.”
“Where?”
“Your mother's old property.”
I stared at him.
“My mother doesn't own property anymore.”
Harris shook his head.
“She did.”
He handed me a photograph.
The house was abandoned.
Windows boarded.
Grass waist-high.
But someone had turned on the lights.
“Why would he go there?”
May you like
Harris answered:
“Because we think that's where your father hid the account.”
