Chapter 10: What Burned in 2019
I had never been able to explain the Richmond warehouse fire.
The official report said electrical fault.
The insurance paid out.
I had rebuilt and moved on because in my world, some losses are accepted and filed away.
But the warehouse had contained more than inventory.
It had contained the original paper records of every transaction my father had made in the final three years of his life — records I had been planning to review after his estate was settled, records that had burned before I ever got to them.
I had always assumed it was coincidence.
I sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at the message again.
"Who sent this?" Maya said.
"I don't know the number."
"Someone who knows about 2019.
Someone who wants you to ask Victoria."
"Or someone who wants me to go to Victoria and walk into something."
Maya was quiet for a moment.
"Or someone who was there and wants out."
I looked at her.
"Sims wasn't the only person Victoria used," she said.
"There were others.
People who came to the house.
Delivered things.
Watched the property.
Not all of them seemed comfortable with what they were doing." She paused.
"There was one man.
He came twice.
He never spoke to me directly, but the second time he came, he left a glass of water outside my bedroom door.
Just left it there.
No one told him to."
"Did you ever see his face?"
"Once.
Briefly.
He was younger than the others.
Maybe thirty."
I looked at the message again.
The timestamp was twelve minutes ago.
I typed back: *Who are you?*
The reply came in under a minute.
*Someone who drove a truck for Garrett Sims in 2019.
I know what was in that warehouse before it burned.
I know who gave the order.
I kept a copy of everything because I knew this day would come.
I want immunity before I talk to anyone official.
Can you make that happen?*
I forwarded the exchange to Raymond Chu with a single line: *New witness.
Possible evidence on the 2019 fire.
He wants immunity.
What can we do?*
Raymond called back in eight minutes.
"If what he says is true," Raymond said, "and he has documentation, the U.S.
Attorney will be very interested in offering cooperation terms.
I can make an introduction.
But I need to speak to him first."
"I'll arrange it."
I texted the number back: *My attorney will contact you within the hour.
His name is Raymond Chu.
He will explain the process.
Don't speak to anyone else before you speak to him.*
A pause.
Then: *Understood.
Tell him my name is Leo.*
I set the phone down.
Maya was watching me.
"The warehouse fire," I said.
"If Victoria ordered it to destroy my father's records—"
"Then she's been planning this for longer than eleven years," Maya said.
I stood up and walked to the window.
The estate grounds were quiet in the late afternoon light.
The gate was closed.
Marcus was visible near the south corner of the property, moving slowly along the perimeter.
"She told me last night that she was building a future for this family," I said.
"She said my father was a frightened old man."
"What do you think?"
I thought about the letter in my jacket pocket.
The careful handwriting.
The eleven years that letter had waited in a locked room.
The three notarized witnesses my father had assembled because he knew, even then, that a single signature wouldn't be enough to stop her.
"I think my father understood exactly who she was," I said.
"And I think he was afraid of her too."
Maya came to stand beside me at the window.
"Daniel," she said.
"Whatever she did before — the fire, the records, all of it — that's between her and the law now.
You've done everything you can do.
Raymond has the statements.
Patricia has my statement.
Leo is going to talk to Raymond." She paused.
"Let it go to the people whose job it is."
"And Sims?"
"He'll surface.
Men like that always do." She looked at me.
"But right now, in this house, tonight — I need you here.
Not out there chasing something that the FBI is going to find faster than you will."
I looked at her.
She was right.
She had been right about most things, I was beginning to understand, in a way I hadn't fully appreciated before six months of absence had stripped away everything except what actually mattered.
"Okay," I said.
She put her hand in mine.
"Okay," I said again, quieter this time.
My phone rang.
Raymond Chu.
"Leo spoke to me," Raymond said.
"He has photographs, a chain-of-custody log, and a recorded phone call from the night of the fire.
Victoria's voice is on the recording." A pause.
"Daniel.
The U.S.
Attorney is going to want all of it.
This is no longer about the estate documents."
"What is it about?"
May you like
"It's about what your mother has been doing to this family for twenty years," Raymond said.
"And it's about to become very public."
