Chapter 4: The Man They Tried to Blame
For several seconds, I couldn't understand what Rachel had just said.
"My father is dead," I whispered.
"I know.""
"Then how could Tyler possibly blame him for anything?""
Rachel exhaled shakily.
"Because your father owned a construction company. Tyler told me there were old financial records connected to it. He said your father had made some questionable investments before he died, and that the money Tyler was moving came from an account connected to those investments.""
I gripped the edge of the changing table.
"That's a lie.""
"I believe you.""
"No. You don't understand. My father was the most honest man I've ever known.
He paid his employees before he paid himself. He once drove forty minutes to return twenty dollars a cashier had accidentally given him.""
Rachel was quiet.
Then she said something that made my stomach turn.
"Tyler showed me a document with your father's signature.""
I looked down at the blue folder.
"Where?""
"In his office aboard the ship. He said your father had authorized him to manage certain investments before he died.""
I shook my head.
"My father never authorized Tyler to manage anything.""
"That's what I thought.""
I sank into the nursery chair.
Poppy stirred in her carrier.
I reached over and gently touched her little hand.
"Rachel, why are you telling me this now?""
"Because I found something in Tyler's apartment.""
My heart stopped.
"Apartment?""
"He told me he was staying in company accommodation when he wasn't working. But he rented a private apartment in Fort Lauderdale. I went there yesterday to collect some of our son's things.""
I closed my eyes.
Another apartment.
Another life.
Another place where Tyler had apparently been playing a role I knew nothing about.
"What did you find?""
"A box of documents. Your father's name was on almost every envelope.""
"Why didn't you take them to the police?""
"Because Tyler called me before I could leave.""
Her voice trembled.
"He told me if I took those documents anywhere, he'd make sure I lost custody of our son.""
I felt a wave of anger rise through me.
"He threatened you?""
"He said he had evidence that I was unstable. He said he could prove I had been using drugs.""
"Were you?""
"No.""
She answered so quickly that I believed her.
"Emily, I know you have no reason to trust me. But I have a baby who needs his father to stop treating us like disposable people.""
I looked at the twins.
Three months old.
Still too small to hold their own heads properly.
And somewhere in Fort Lauderdale, Tyler had a son who would never understand why his father had built a life around lies.
"What's the baby's name?"" I asked.
A pause.
"Noah.""
I closed my eyes.
Noah.
"How old is he?""
"Five months.""
I did the calculation.
Tyler had been with Rachel before leaving for the cruise.
Before I had given birth.
Possibly before he'd even kissed my stomach goodbye.
"Rachel, I need to see those documents.""
"I was hoping you'd say that.""
"Where are they?""
"Hidden somewhere Tyler won't look.""
"Where?""
She hesitated.
"Your father's old construction office.""
I sat upright.
"My father's office was sold.""
"Not the building. The business was sold. The property is still owned by the estate.""
I stared at the wall.
My father had left me the building, but I'd rented it out after his death. A small accounting firm occupied the front offices.
There was still a storage room in the back.
I had forgotten about it.
"Can you meet me there?""
"Tomorrow morning.""
"Why not today?""
"Because Tyler's lawyer called me an hour ago.""
I froze.
"His lawyer?""
"Yes. He said Tyler wanted to discuss a private settlement.""
"What kind of settlement?""
Rachel's voice dropped.
"He offered me money to sign a statement saying I had created the company and stolen the funds.""
I felt sick.
"He wants you to take the blame.""
"Yes.""
"And what did you tell him?""
"I told him I needed time.""
I looked at the folder in my lap.
Tyler had been building an escape route for months.
He had a wife.
A mistress.
A newborn son.
A business account.
And apparently, a carefully constructed story involving my dead father.
"Rachel, don't sign anything.""
"I won't.""
"Don't meet Tyler alone.""
"I know.""
"And please, don't go back to that apartment.""
She let out a shaky breath.
"Emily?""
"Yes?""
"I think he knows I contacted you.""
Before I could ask why, she hung up.
I stared at my phone.
Then another notification appeared.
This time, it was from my bank.
<text color="danger" weight="semibold" inline>URGENT ACCOUNT ALERT</text>
A withdrawal request had been submitted against my inheritance account.
Amount: $95,000.
Status: Pending verification.
I nearly dropped the phone.
That amount was more than the balance Rebecca had told me was missing.
Someone was trying to take the rest.
I immediately called the bank.
After fifteen minutes of security questions and transfers, a representative named Daniel came on the line.
"Mrs. Carter, I can confirm the transaction is pending.""
"Who submitted it?""
"An authorized account representative.""
"I am the only authorized representative.""
There was a pause.
"According to our system, a secondary authorization was added three weeks ago.""
My stomach tightened.
"Who?""
"Tyler Carter.""
I closed my eyes.
"How?""
"The request was approved using a notarized authorization document.""
"That's impossible. I never signed anything.""
Daniel's tone became more serious.
"Mrs. Carter, the document includes your signature.""
I looked at the twins.
Then at the letter from Tyler.
"Please freeze the account.""
"We can place an immediate security hold, but we'll need you to submit a fraud affidavit.""
"Do it.""
"There's one more thing.""
I gripped the phone.
"What?""
"The withdrawal is scheduled to be released tomorrow morning.""
Tomorrow.
The same morning Rachel wanted to meet me.
I thanked Daniel and ended the call.
Then I sat completely still.
Tyler knew the money was being investigated.
He knew his access to company systems had been suspended.
And he was still trying to take everything he could.
My phone rang again.
This time, it was Michael.
"Emily, where are you?""
"At home.""
"Good. Please stay there.""
"Why?""
"We've discovered something concerning.""
I glanced at the blue folder.
"About Tyler?""
"Yes. His company account received another transfer this morning.""
"From where?""
Michael hesitated.
"An account connected to your father's estate.""
My heart began pounding.
"That isn't possible.""
"That's what we thought.""
"Michael, my father died two years ago.""
"I know.""
"His business was sold.""
"I know that too.""
I stood up.
"Then how can there be money moving through his estate?""
Michael lowered his voice.
"Because someone has been using an account that should have been closed.""
I felt my knees weaken.
"How much?""
"Two hundred and forty thousand dollars.""
I stared at the wall.
My father had left behind a modest business, a building, and enough money to make sure I would never have to struggle.
He hadn't left millions.
Where could that kind of money have come from?
Michael continued.
"Emily, there's something else. The transaction was approved using an old authorization bearing your father's signature.""
I looked down at the photocopied letter.
"Michael, I need you to listen to me.""
"I'm listening.""
"My father never authorized Tyler to manage his money.""
"Are you certain?""
"Absolutely.""
"Then we need the original documents.""
I looked at the blue folder.
"I have some.""
"Don't touch anything else. Keep everything exactly as you found it.""
I swallowed.
"Michael, I think Tyler is trying to frame my father.""
There was a long silence.
Then Michael said:
"Emily, I think he's trying to frame someone much closer to him.""
I frowned.
"Who?""
"You.""
Before I could answer, a car horn sounded outside.
I looked through the nursery window.
A black SUV was parked across the street.
The driver's door opened.
Tyler stepped out.
He was holding a bouquet of white roses.
And he was walking toward my front door.
My phone was still against my ear when he rang the doorbell.
"Emily," Michael said urgently, "do not let him inside.""
I watched Tyler straighten his shirt.
He glanced toward the nursery window.
Then he smiled.
Like a husband coming home from an ordinary business trip.
Like a man who hadn't destroyed three families.
Like a man who believed he still owned the life he'd left behind.
And then he lifted his phone and called me.
I answered without speaking.
"Hey, sweetheart," he said softly.
I looked at the roses.
May you like
Then at my daughters.
"Open the door. We need to talk about your father.""
Related Stories
