Chapter 3 - The House of Lies
We reached my parents' house twenty-three minutes later.
Two police vehicles were behind us.
Robert sat in the front passenger seat.
Paige drove.
Julian and I sat in the back without speaking.
I hadn't been home in almost two years.
The white colonial looked exactly the same.
Perfect lawn.
Black shutters.
Stone walkway.
American flag beside the porch.
A house built to reassure strangers.
Inside that house, I had learned to apologize before I knew whether I'd done anything wrong.
Paige stopped at the curb.
The front door was open.
“That's not normal,” Julian said.
We got out.
Officer Daniels moved ahead of us.
“Stay behind me.”
We entered the foyer.
A broken vase lay across the hardwood.
One of Mom's favorite porcelain pieces.
Robert looked toward the staircase.
“Arthur!”
No answer.
We moved through the living room.
Empty.
Dining room.
Empty.
Then I smelled smoke.
“Kitchen?”
Julian shook his head.
“Study.”
We ran.
My father's study door stood open.
Smoke poured from a metal trash can.
Documents were burning.
Arthur was nowhere in sight.
Officer Daniels grabbed a fire extinguisher and blasted the flames.
Paper scraps flew.
Robert rushed toward the far wall.
The framed painting of my grandfather had been pulled down.
Behind it was the steel safe.
Open.
Empty.
Robert cursed.
“What was in there?” Daniels asked.
“Corporate ledgers. Personal journals. Trust records.”
I stared at the safe.
“Originals?”
“Yes.”
A noise came from upstairs.
A door slammed.
Daniels drew his weapon.
“Stay here.”
He climbed the stairs with the second officer.
Julian walked toward the burning documents.
“Dad did this?”
I looked at him.
“Who else?”
He sank into a chair.
Everything about Julian had changed in less than an hour.
The arrogance was gone.
The smug little smile.
The superiority.
He looked twenty-one for the first time.
Maybe younger.
“I really didn't know,” he said.
I didn't answer.
He looked at me.
“The car.”
I crossed my arms.
“I didn't know it was your money.”
“That doesn't make the way you treated me okay.”
“I know.”
I almost laughed.
Julian had never said that sentence to me.
He rubbed his face.
“They told me you hated me.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Dad said you were jealous from the day I was born.”
“He told me you were the reason they couldn't afford my tuition.”
Julian closed his eyes.
“He told me Grandpa thought you were reckless.”
I looked toward Robert.
Robert shook his head.
“Henry adored Audrey.”
Julian's eyes filled.
I didn't expect that.
“You knew Grandpa longer than I did,” I said.
“He always took you places.”
“He took you too.”
“Not after I turned twelve.”
Julian stared at the floor.
“Dad stopped letting me go.”
The officers returned.
Daniels lowered his weapon.
“Upstairs is clear.”
“Where are my parents?”
“We don't know.”
Robert moved to the window.
“They took the records.”
Officer Daniels asked, “Any vehicles missing?”
Julian nodded.
“Dad's SUV.”
“My mother's car?” I asked.
“In the garage.”
So they were together.
My phone vibrated.
Another unknown message.
CHECK THE BASEMENT.
I showed Daniels.
He immediately turned toward the hall.
“Where?”
Julian pointed.
We walked down the basement steps.
The air grew colder.
I hadn't been down there since I was sixteen.
My father kept wine, old furniture, company records.
At the bottom was another door.
Locked.
Julian stared at it.
“That used to be storage.”
Daniels tried the handle.
“Key?”
I shook my head.
Robert stepped forward.
“Arthur kept one above the breaker box.”
We all looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“This used to be Henry's house.”
I had forgotten.
My grandfather had transferred it to Arthur after remarrying and moving south.
Robert found the key.
The lock opened.
Inside were shelves.
Boxes.
Files.
My stomach tightened.
One wall was covered with photographs.
Mine.
I stopped breathing.
Graduation announcements.
College newspaper clippings.
Pictures of me leaving the diner.
Pictures outside my apartment.
Photos taken through my car windshield.
Paige whispered, “Audrey…”
Julian stepped closer.
“What the hell?”
On a desk sat folders labeled with dates.
Freshman Year.
Sophomore Year.
Junior Year.
Senior Year.
My hands started shaking.
They had been watching me.
I opened one.
Inside were printed bank statements.
My bank statements.
Work schedules.
Copies of school records.
Photographs of Paige.
Even notes.
AUDREY LEFT LIBRARY 11:48 PM.
DINER SHIFT 5:30–11:00 AM.
MET WITH ROBERT HALE'S ASSOCIATE? VERIFY.
I looked at Robert.
“They knew I was trying to find you.”
He nodded grimly.
Paige picked up a photograph of herself.
“This was taken outside my apartment.”
Officer Daniels immediately called for additional units.
Julian backed toward the door.
“This is insane.”
I turned to him.
“You lived here.”
“I never knew.”
“Did you ever come downstairs?”
“Dad told me the room had asbestos.”
Of course he did.
There was always a lie.
Robert opened a locked drawer using a letter opener.
Inside were photocopies.
One caught my eye.
Life insurance.
Policyholder: Audrey Claire Vance.
Beneficiary: Arthur Vance.
I stared at it.
“Why does my father have a life insurance policy on me?”
Robert took the document.
His face hardened.
“How much?”
I looked.
“Two million dollars.”
Paige whispered my name.
I suddenly felt cold everywhere.
Julian moved beside me.
“When was it opened?”
I checked.
Three years earlier.
Two months after my parents told everyone I had a substance abuse problem.
My mind began racing.
A reckless daughter.
Drugs.
Gambling.
Mental instability.
If something happened to me, who would question it?
I turned to Officer Daniels.
“I want to file a formal report.”
“You're going to.”
“No. I mean everything.”
He nodded.
“We'll document the room.”
Robert opened another folder.
Then froze.
“What?”
He handed me a page.
A court petition.
Not filed.
Prepared.
PETITION FOR EMERGENCY CONSERVATORSHIP.
My father was listed as petitioner.
I was listed as incapacitated adult.
Attached was the false medical affidavit.
At the bottom was a proposed hearing date.
Monday.
Five days away.
“They were going to declare me incompetent,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Before my birthday.”
“Yes.”
“And take control of the shares.”
“Yes.”
I sat down.
For the first time that day, my legs stopped holding me.
Paige crouched beside me.
Julian stood several feet away.
Then he saw something behind a box.
A small digital recorder.
He picked it up.
“What's this?”
Robert examined it.
“Old.”
There was a label.
ELEANOR — SEPTEMBER 1999.
Everyone went silent.
My grandmother died in October 1999.
Robert stared at the recorder.
“I've never seen this.”
Officer Daniels put on gloves.
“We should treat it as evidence.”
Before he could take it, the machine suddenly activated.
Julian must have hit a button accidentally.
Static filled the basement.
Then a woman's voice.
Soft.
Nervous.
“I don't know if Henry will ever hear this.”
Robert's face changed.
“That's Eleanor.”
My father's mother.
My grandmother.
We listened.
“If anything happens to me, Arthur must not be allowed access to the company accounts.”
A chill moved through me.
The recording crackled.
“He stole again. This time it's more than jewelry.”
Robert whispered, “Jesus.”
“He forged Henry's signature.”
Julian looked at me.
“And when I confronted him, he said something I can't forget.”
The audio paused.
Then Eleanor's voice returned.
“He said accidents happen to people who don't know when to stop talking.”
Paige covered her mouth.
Suddenly, tires screeched outside.
Daniels turned.
We heard an engine accelerate.
A vehicle raced from the driveway.
We ran upstairs.
Through the front window, I saw my father's black SUV tearing down the road.
“He was here,” Julian whispered.
Arthur had been inside.
Maybe in the garage.
Maybe behind the house.
Watching us discover everything.
Officer Daniels radioed the plate.
Then my phone rang.
This time it wasn't unknown.
MOM.
I stared at the screen.
Daniels nodded.
“Answer. Speakerphone.”
I did.
“Mom?”
For several seconds, I heard only breathing.
Then Catherine whispered.
“Audrey, listen to me carefully.”
“Where are you?”
“Your father doesn't know I'm calling.”
I looked at Julian.
Mom's voice trembled.
“Do not trust Robert Hale.”
Robert stiffened.
I stared at him.
“What?”
“He hasn't told you everything.”
Robert stepped closer.
“Catherine—”
She heard him.
“Oh God. He's with you.”
“Mom, what are you talking about?”
She started crying.
“Your grandfather didn't create that trust to protect you from Arthur.”
I looked at Robert.
His jaw tightened.
“Then why?”
Mom whispered the next words so softly I almost missed them.
“Because your father isn't Henry Vance's biological son.”
Julian inhaled sharply.
May you like
Robert closed his eyes.
And suddenly, another piece of my family disappeared beneath my feet.
