Chapter 7: The Man in the Garage
I read Daniel's message again.
Someone wearing Marcus's jacket.
I looked at my husband.
He was standing beside the conference table, one hand pressed against his forehead.
"Marcus?""
He didn't turn.
"Not now, Vanessa.""
"Daniel found the original garage footage.""
That got his attention.
"What?""
"He says the man who damaged Elizabeth's brakes wasn't Peter.""
Marcus slowly faced me.
"Who was it?""
I swallowed.
"Someone wearing your jacket.""
His expression became unreadable.
Then he reached for his phone.
"Call Daniel.""
I did.
Daniel answered after the second ring.
"Vanessa?""
"Marcus is here. Tell us what you found.""
A pause.
Then Daniel spoke.
"I have the footage.""
"Who was in it?""
"I don't know.""
"Daniel!""
"Listen to me. The person was wearing Marcus's old black leather jacket. The one with the silver zipper.""
Marcus frowned.
"I haven't worn that jacket in years.""
Daniel continued.
"I know. But the person in the footage was wearing it the night Elizabeth died.""
Marcus looked at me.
"Where is the recording?""
"At the old garage.""
"Send it.""
"I can't. The file is too large.""
Marcus grabbed his keys.
"We're coming.""
The garage was located in an industrial district on the edge of town.
Daniel had inherited it from our father.
It smelled of motor oil, dust, and damp concrete.
When we arrived, he was waiting beside the entrance.
He looked nervous.
"You're sure you want to see this?"" he asked.
Marcus nodded.
"Play it.""
Daniel led us into a small office.
He opened an old computer and connected a portable hard drive.
The footage appeared.
A grainy security camera showed the garage entrance.
The timestamp read 7:51 PM, April 17.
A black sedan entered.
Elizabeth's car.
A few minutes later, a man walked into the frame.
He wore a dark jacket.
His face was hidden beneath a baseball cap.
He moved directly toward the driver's side.
Daniel paused the video.
"Look at his left hand.""
Marcus leaned closer.
The man wore a large silver ring.
A ring shaped like an eagle.
Marcus stared at it.
Then he slowly removed his own ring.
The same design.
"Where did you get that?"" I asked.
Marcus looked at me.
"It was a gift.""
"From whom?""
He didn't answer.
Daniel resumed the footage.
The man opened the hood.
He moved around the car.
Then he crouched beside the front wheel.
He remained there for almost four minutes.
When he stood, he looked directly toward the security camera.
Even through the poor resolution, I could see the shape of his face.
Marcus whispered a name.
"Peter.""
I felt a wave of relief.
"There. You see? It was Peter.""
Daniel shook his head.
"No.""
He paused the footage.
"Look at the man's shoes.""
The camera zoomed in.
Black leather shoes.
A small silver buckle.
Marcus went pale.
I recognized them.
They were the same shoes Marcus had worn to our wedding.
He looked at the screen.
Then he sat down.
"That's impossible.""
Daniel leaned forward.
"Marcus, the man in that footage has your build, your clothes, and your ring.""
Marcus shook his head.
"I wasn't there.""
"Then who was?""
Marcus stared at the screen.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
He looked at the caller ID.
Peter.
He answered and put it on speaker.
"Where are you?"" Marcus asked.
Peter's voice came through.
"At the office.""
"Did you send someone to Daniel's garage?""
Silence.
Then Peter laughed.
"Why would I do that?""
"Answer the question.""
"Marcus, you need to stop chasing old ghosts.""
Marcus tightened his grip on the phone.
"Did you wear my jacket on the night Elizabeth died?""
The line went silent.
Then Peter said:
"You really don't remember?""
Marcus's face drained of color.
"What?""
Peter continued.
"You should ask your wife about the dinner that evening.""
The call ended.
Marcus slowly turned toward me.
"What dinner?""
I couldn't speak.
Because I remembered.
Not the entire evening.
Just the restaurant.
The red coat.
The envelope.
And Marcus's hand gripping my wrist beneath the table.
Six years earlier, Elizabeth had invited me to meet her at a restaurant.
She wanted to return the money I had offered her.
She wanted me to confess everything to Marcus.
I had refused.
Then Marcus arrived.
I hadn't expected him.
He sat beside Elizabeth and asked her to explain what was happening.
She placed the financial records on the table.
Marcus looked at them.
Then he looked at me.
I remembered his expression.
Not anger.
Disappointment.
He asked me to step outside.
And I followed him.
In the parking lot, he told me that he would handle everything.
He said I should go home.
He said he would speak to Elizabeth.
I had believed him.
I had gone home.
But now I was beginning to remember something else.
Marcus had returned to the restaurant.
And when he came home that night, his jacket was missing.
"Marcus," I whispered.
He stared at me.
"What?""
"That night... you told me to go home.""
He nodded slowly.
"Yes.""
"You said you were going to speak with Elizabeth.""
"I did.""
"Then why didn't you tell the police?""
He looked away.
"Because I didn't know what happened afterward.""
I stepped closer.
"Did you go to the garage?""
"No.""
"Did you wear that jacket?""
"No.""
"Then why does the recording show someone wearing your clothes?""
Marcus looked at Daniel.
"Can you enhance the footage?""
Daniel nodded.
He opened another file.
It showed the same person entering the garage.
This time, the camera captured the man's face for a fraction of a second.
Daniel zoomed in.
The image became clearer.
And I recognized him.
Not Peter.
Not Marcus.
Someone else.
A man who had been dead for three years.
My father.
I stepped backward.
"That's impossible.""
Daniel stared at the screen.
"Vanessa?""
I couldn't breathe.
My father had died in a nursing home after suffering a stroke.
He had never been involved in the foundation.
At least, that was what I had believed.
Marcus looked at me.
"Who is that?""
I swallowed.
"My father.""
Daniel nodded slowly.
"He used to work at this garage.""
"Not six years ago.""
"Vanessa, he came here all the time.""
I shook my head.
"No. He was retired.""
Daniel opened another folder.
Inside were photographs of my father standing beside Elizabeth's car.
One showed him holding a toolbox.
Another showed him talking to Peter.
Then Daniel opened a bank transfer.
The recipient was my father's account.
The payment amount was $100,000.
The date was April 16.
One day before Elizabeth's death.
I stared at the document.
"Who paid him?""
Daniel pointed to the sender.
The account belonged to Marcus.
I looked at my husband.
He was already staring at the screen.
"Marcus?""
He didn't answer.
I moved toward him.
"Why did you pay my father?""
He finally looked at me.
His voice was barely audible.
"Because Elizabeth asked me to.""
I frowned.
"What?""
"She knew Peter was dangerous. She wanted someone to watch him.""
"Why my father?""
"Because she trusted him.""
I shook my head.
"Then why was he working on the car?""
Marcus closed his eyes.
"Because he was trying to find out what Peter had done.""
I stared at him.
The pieces were falling into place.
My father hadn't damaged Elizabeth's brakes.
He had been investigating them.
But someone had used his presence at the garage to make him look responsible.
And that person had known exactly where to find the security footage.
Daniel opened another file.
It contained an audio recording.
My father's voice filled the office.
"Marcus, I found the problem. Peter has been moving money through Vanessa's accounts. He's using her as a shield.""
Marcus's recorded voice answered.
"What do you mean?""
"She's involved, but I don't think she understands how much he's stolen.""
A pause.
Then my father's voice became urgent.
"There's something else. Peter has been asking questions about Elizabeth's car.""
The recording ended.
Marcus looked at me.
"Your father was trying to protect you.""
I felt tears sting my eyes.
I had spent years believing my father had died without knowing what I had done.
Now I discovered he had known everything.
And he had tried to save me.
Daniel leaned closer to the computer.
"There's another file.""
He opened it.
The timestamp read 9:14 PM.
Four minutes before Elizabeth's accident.
The camera showed the garage entrance.
A second car arrived.
A woman stepped out.
She wore a long beige coat.
She walked toward Elizabeth's vehicle.
Then she looked directly at the camera.
My stomach dropped.
Because I recognized the woman immediately.
It was me.
But the footage was dated April 17.
And I had told the detectives I went home at 8:30 PM.
Marcus stared at the screen.
"Vanessa.""
I couldn't answer.
The recording continued.
On the screen, I opened Elizabeth's car door.
I reached inside.
Then I removed something from the glove compartment.
A small white envelope.
I held it for several seconds.
Then I placed it inside my coat.
Marcus looked at me.
"What was in that envelope?""
I shook my head.
"I don't remember.""
Daniel paused the video.
"Vanessa, look at the timestamp.""
I did.
9:14 PM.
Four minutes before the accident.
I had been at the garage.
I had lied to everyone.
And I suddenly remembered what I had taken.
The original insurance policy.
The document that proved Elizabeth had changed her beneficiary three days before her death.
The beneficiary wasn't Marcus.
It wasn't me.
It was Ethan.
And if that document still existed, it would prove that the money I had received after Elizabeth's death had never belonged to me.
Marcus stared at me.
"Where is the envelope?""
I whispered the only answer I could give.
"I destroyed it.""
Daniel shook his head.
"No, you didn't.""
He opened another folder.
Inside was a photograph of a storage locker.
A familiar blue metal box sat on the shelf.
May you like
My father's handwriting appeared on a label.
*For Ethan. Only if the truth comes out.*
