Chapter 3 - The First Woman
By sunrise, Robert had arranged for us to meet a woman named Evelyn Harper.
She was forty-six.
She had once been Damian's restaurant manager.
Now she owned a small bakery forty miles outside Atlanta.
When we walked inside, she looked at Chloe and immediately understood.
“You're his wife.”
Chloe nodded.
Evelyn locked the bakery door.
“Then you finally got out.”
The words made Chloe cry.
Evelyn didn't hug her.
Instead, she walked behind the counter and poured three cups of coffee.
“Sit.”
We did.
For almost an hour, she told us everything.
Damian had hired her five years earlier.
At first, he was charming.
Generous.
He paid well.
He praised her constantly.
Then he convinced her to sign a new contract.
The contract gave his company control over recipes, supplier relationships, customer lists, and branding.
“I thought I was becoming a partner,” Evelyn said.
“But you weren't?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“He changed the terms after I signed.”
Robert leaned forward.
“How?”
“Different version. Same signature.”
My stomach turned.
“You forged her signature?”
“Not exactly.”
Evelyn looked at Robert.
“He used the original signature and placed it on another document.”
Robert's expression hardened.
“Digital manipulation?”
“Yes.”
“And you reported it?”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
She laughed bitterly.
“He had already prepared.”
She pulled a folder from underneath the counter.
Inside were photographs.
Emails.
Bank records.
And copies of contracts.
Robert examined them carefully.
Then Evelyn looked at Chloe.
“Did he make you work without pay?”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you the work was temporary?”
“Yes.”
“Did he make you believe you owed him?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Then you're exactly where I was.”
She opened another folder.
“This is why I left.”
Inside was a photograph of a woman.
A younger woman.
“Who is she?” I asked.
“My sister.”
“What happened?”
“Damian threatened her.”
Chloe looked horrified.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to leave.”
Evelyn's voice became quiet.
“He told me he could ruin my sister's life with one phone call.”
Robert looked at the photograph.
“Where is she now?”
“Texas.”
“Does she know?”
“Yes.”
“Would she testify?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“I don't know.”
Robert closed the folder.
“Would you?”
Evelyn looked at Chloe.
“Yes.”
My daughter lowered her eyes.
“Why?”
“Because someone should have done it for me.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Someone should have done it for me.
We spent the next three hours documenting everything.
Names.
Dates.
Contracts.
Payments.
Threats.
By afternoon, Robert had enough evidence to contact investigators.
But then his phone rang.
He answered.
“Hello?”
His expression changed.
“Who?”
Silence.
“I'm listening.”
He looked at Chloe.
Then at me.
“Where?”
He stood.
“I'll be there.”
He hung up.
“What happened?” I asked.
“One of the women from the list contacted us.”
“Who?”
“Her name is Sarah Collins.”
“What does she know?”
Robert's jaw tightened.
“She says Damian didn't just exploit women at The Hearth.”
“What else?”
“She says he used the restaurant to move money.”
My stomach dropped.
“Money?”
“Large amounts.”
Chloe stared at him.
“How large?”
Robert looked at her.
“Large enough that we're no longer talking about employment violations.”
That evening, we met Sarah in a parking lot.
She was nervous.
She kept looking over her shoulder.
“I shouldn't be here.”
Robert said nothing.
Sarah handed him an envelope.
“Don't open it here.”
“What is it?”
“Copies.”
“Copies of what?”
“Payments.”
She looked at Chloe.
“He wasn't just paying employees.”
“What do you mean?”
“People came to the restaurant with cash.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Did Damian know them?”
“Yes.”
“Did they eat?”
Sarah shook her head.
“They went downstairs.”
I felt a chill.
“Downstairs where?”
“The old storage area.”
Robert looked at me.
“Does The Hearth have a basement?”
Chloe nodded slowly.
“There's a locked section.”
Sarah whispered:
“That's where the real business happened.”
Before we could ask more, a black SUV entered the parking lot.
Sarah panicked.
“He found me.”
Robert grabbed the envelope.
“Get in the car.”
We moved quickly.
The SUV slowed.
Then stopped.
A man stepped out.
He wasn't Damian.
He was older.
Bald.
Wearing a dark suit.
He looked directly at Sarah.
Then at Chloe.
Then he smiled.
Robert locked the doors.
The man raised one hand.
He wasn't holding a weapon.
He was holding a photograph.
He pressed it against the windshield.
It was a photograph of Chloe and me leaving the hotel.
Then he turned it around.
On the back were four words.
HE KNOWS WHERE YOU ARE.
The SUV drove away.
Nobody spoke.
Finally Chloe whispered:
“I want to go home.”
I looked at her.
“Which home?”
She started crying.
“I don't know anymore.”
I reached for her hand.
“Then we'll build you a new one.”
Robert started the engine.
But as we drove away, he received another message.
One sentence.
Tell Margaret the truth about her husband.
Robert stared at the screen.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“My husband?”
He looked at me.
“Margaret…”
I shook my head.
“My husband has been dead for twenty-six years.”
Robert didn't answer.
Then Sarah spoke from the back seat.
“Maybe that's not the husband he's talking about.”
I turned.
“What does that mean?”
Sarah looked terrified.
“Damian told me your daughter wasn't his first connection to your family.”
I stared at her.
“What family connection?”
Sarah swallowed.
“He said your husband once owed him father a lot of money.”
The car suddenly felt too small.
My husband had died when I was thirty-two.
Damian had been twelve.
There was no way.
At least, that's what I thought.
May you like
Until Robert quietly said:
“We need to find out who Damian Prescott's father was.”
