The chapel stood behind Grandpa's old farmhouse.
It had been closed for nearly fifteen years.
We arrived just after sunrise.
Rebecca came with me.
So did Thomas.
Victor met us at the gate.
“I heard about Pam,” he said.
“She said Dale has the key.”
Victor nodded.
“He always did.”
The chapel door was unlocked.
Inside, dust covered the wooden benches.
A faded cross hung above the altar.
The hymn board was still on the wall.
Numbers remained beside the old hymns.
Rebecca lifted the board.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a loose screw.
She removed it.
A narrow compartment opened behind the wood.
Inside was a stack of envelopes.
Most were addressed to Grandpa.
One was addressed to me.
Another had Alan's name.
Thomas picked up the one addressed to Alan.
“We shouldn't open that.”
I agreed.
We took everything to Rebecca's office.
Pam called before we reached the highway.
“Did you find them?”
“Yes.”
“Does Dale know?”
“I don't think so.”
She exhaled.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“My father didn't act alone.”
I looked at Rebecca.
“Alan?”
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped.
“Your uncle?”
“No. Alan.”
“My brother?”
“Yes.”
She began crying.
“He helped Dale get the company records.”
“When?”
“For years.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought Grandpa would leave everything to you.”
I said nothing.
“He hated that.”
“He knew?”
“He knew Grandpa had created the trust.”
“And the forged documents?”
Pam hesitated.
“Alan signed some.”
The world seemed suddenly smaller.
My brother.
The person who had stood in Grandpa's kitchen and told me not to make things ugly.
The person who had called me after I found the bonds.
The person who had told me to stop.
He had been involved.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I was afraid.”
“You've said that before.”
“I know.”
“Were you afraid of Dale or Alan?”
“Both.”
We arrived at Rebecca's office.
I put Pam on speaker.
“Tell me everything.”
She took a long breath.
“After Grandpa became ill, Alan began handling the business accounts.”
“Why?”
“Dale pressured him.”
“That doesn't sound like Alan.”
“Alan wanted control.”
I closed my eyes.
“That sounds like him.”
“Dale told him that if you inherited the company, Alan would get nothing.”
“So they forged my signature.”
“Yes.”
“And the trust?”
“They dissolved it.”
“Using my name.”
“Yes.”
“What about the bonds?”
“Grandpa moved them before they could find everything.”
“Why seventeen?”
“Because those were the ones he could transfer without attracting attention.”
Thomas interrupted.
“Who helped him?”
Pam answered.
“Robert.”
My father's name changed the room.
“Where is Robert now?” I asked.
“I don't know.”
“Dale knows.”
“Yes.”
“Alan knows?”
“I think so.”
“What does that mean?”
“I saw them arguing about him last year.”
“What did they say?”
Pam's voice lowered.
“They said Robert had copies of everything.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“Everything?”
“Company records. Bank transfers. The original trust. The names of the people who helped move the money.”
I looked at the envelopes.
“Is that what's in Grandpa's papers?”
“Some of it.”
“What's in the envelope with Alan's name?”
Pam hesitated.
“A confession.”
My heart stopped.
“Whose?”
“Alan's.”
We opened it.
The letter was six pages long.
Alan had written it to Grandpa.
He admitted helping Dale transfer company assets.
He admitted signing my name on documents.
He admitted using my driver's license copy.
He admitted entering Box 214.
And he admitted one more thing.
He knew Robert was alive.
The letter explained why.
Robert had threatened to expose the theft unless Alan helped return the missing assets.
Alan refused.
Dale then threatened to expose Alan's involvement.
Alan stayed silent.
At the bottom was a sentence that made my hands shake.
If Nancy ever discovers this, I will tell her I did it because I believed she would lose everything anyway.
I put the letter down.
“That isn't an excuse.”
“No,” Rebecca said.
“It isn't even a reason.”
“No.”
I looked at the final page.
There was an address.
Montana.
The same clinic Thomas had found.
Robert.
Alive.
My father had been closer than I realized.
Rebecca called the clinic.
They would not confirm a patient.
So we contacted a private investigator.
By noon, we had a name.
Robert Harper had been living under another surname in a small Montana town.
He had been receiving treatment for an old injury.
He had also maintained contact with Victor.
The investigator gave us an address.
I wanted to leave immediately.
Rebecca stopped me.
“We have to protect the evidence first.”
She was right.
We copied everything.
We stored one set with the attorney.
One with Thomas.
One in a secure digital archive.
Then we called the probate court.
Dale had requested an emergency hearing regarding the house.
Rebecca filed an objection.
The hearing was scheduled for two days later.
That evening, Alan came to my house.
I almost didn't open the door.
He stood on the porch without his usual confidence.
“You read it.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“I don't know.”
“That isn't good enough.”
“I know.”
“You signed my name.”
“I know.”
“You used my driver's license.”
“I know.”
“You helped them enter Grandpa's box.”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
I opened the door wider.
“Why?”
He stepped inside.
“Because I was afraid.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Dale threatened me.”
“So you sacrificed me.”
“I thought Grandpa had changed his will.”
“He hadn't.”
“I didn't know.”
“You knew enough to forge my name.”
Alan sat at the kitchen table.
“I never wanted you hurt.”
I laughed quietly.
“You didn't need to want it.”
He looked up.
“What?”
“You only needed to keep choosing yourself.”
He lowered his head.
After a long silence, he said, “Dale has the original ledger.”
“No.”
“He does.”
“The ledger was split.”
“I mean the final section.”
I stared at him.
“Where?”
“His office.”
“What does it contain?”
“The account numbers.”
“Which accounts?”
“Everything.”
I leaned against the counter.
“Why tell me now?”
Alan's eyes filled.
“Because Dale knows I'm going to testify.”
That changed everything.
“Against him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he told me he was going to kill Robert.”
My stomach turned.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
I reached for my phone.
“Call the police.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because Dale is already watching the house.”
I looked toward the window.
A dark SUV was parked across the street.
My heart began pounding.
Alan whispered, “That's him.”
The SUV started moving.
It passed our house slowly.
Then stopped at the corner.
Rebecca arrived twenty minutes later.
We showed her the letter.
She called law enforcement.
By midnight, officers had checked the property.
The SUV was gone.
But there was something else.
A message had been left on my front porch.
One sentence.
Stop looking for Robert.
Rebecca read it.
Then she looked at me.
“We're going to Montana.”
I nodded.
Alan stood.
“I'll come.”
“No.”
He looked hurt.
“You don't trust me.”
“Not yet.”
He accepted that.
Before we left, I called Pam.
No answer.
I tried again.
Nothing.
Then her phone sent an automatic message.
I'm sorry.
My stomach dropped.
Rebecca called the police.
By morning, Pam's car was found near the chapel.
The driver's door was open.
Her purse was inside.
And beneath the passenger seat was a bloodstained envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Robert.
Alive.
And standing beside him was another man.
Dale.
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Photograph Proved Dale Had Found Robert Before Me, and the Meeting in Montana Exposed the One Secret Grandpa Had Never Put on Paper
The Three Hundred Dollars Was Supposed to Buy My Silence, but the First Envelope Beneath Grandpa’s Furnace Made That Plan Impossible
Part 7 of 12
