Chapter 6 - Theodore Follows the Money
No one spoke.
The photograph remained on the laptop screen, its cold glow illuminating four stunned faces gathered around the dining table.
Nathan looked nothing like the confident man Margaret remembered.
His expensive suits were gone.
His carefully styled hair had grown longer and uneven.
A dark bruise spread beneath one eye, while dried blood marked the corner of his lip. His shoulders were tense, his expression hollow, as if he had not slept in days.
But it was the cardboard sign in his hands that froze the room.
BRING THE ORIGINAL FILES OR YOUR FAMILY PAYS NEXT.
Margaret instinctively reached for Ethan.
Without realizing it, Ethan had stepped closer to the screen.
His lips trembled.
"That's... that's Dad."
No one corrected him.
Theodore enlarged the photograph.
"Don't look at Nathan," he said quietly.
"Look at everything else."
Margaret forced herself to obey.
The concrete wall behind Nathan was painted white with a thick yellow stripe running across it.
A security camera hung above a steel support column.
Part of a parking-space number was visible.
B-17.
Near Nathan's left shoulder stood a black luxury sedan.
Its license plate had been deliberately blurred.
Professional.
Intentional.
Theodore leaned closer.
"They wanted us to see him."
Elise folded her arms tightly.
"They wanted to scare us."
"Yes."
"But they also wanted something."
"The original files," Ethan said.
Theodore nodded.
"And that tells us something important."
Margaret looked at him.
"What?"
"If they still need the files..."
"...then they don't already have them."
The room became quiet again.
Elise looked toward the blue folder lying on the table.
"So these papers matter."
"Very much."
Theodore unplugged the laptop from the internet.
"No more incoming messages."
"You think they're watching?" Margaret asked.
"I don't know."
"You keep saying that."
"Because guessing gets people hurt."
He removed the flash drive containing copies of every document.
Then he powered the laptop completely off.
"We assume every electronic device Nathan owned may be compromised."
Ethan swallowed.
"So what do we do?"
Theodore looked directly at him.
"We stop reacting."
"We start investigating."
Margaret had seen this side of her husband only twice before.
Once during an accounting fraud investigation many years earlier.
Once after a neighbor had been scammed out of his retirement savings.
When Theodore believed the truth could still be found, he became almost frighteningly patient.
He never rushed.
He never panicked.
He simply kept asking better questions.
The first question came immediately.
"What exactly are the original files?"
Elise answered first.
"I thought everything was in that folder."
Theodore shook his head.
"No."
"If Victor wanted these papers, Nathan wouldn't have needed to send Ethan looking for the blue folder months later."
Margaret frowned.
"Then what's missing?"
Theodore opened his notebook.
"Something Nathan removed."
"Something valuable enough to threaten his family."
Ethan suddenly remembered something.
"There was another folder."
Everyone turned toward him.
"What folder?" Elise asked.
"When we moved."
"I saw Dad carrying a black accordion file."
"I thought it was work stuff."
"Did he take it with him?" Theodore asked.
"I don't know."
"I never saw it again."
Margaret looked toward Elise.
"Did you?"
Elise slowly shook her head.
"No."
Theodore wrote another note.
BLACK ACCORDION FILE
Then another.
ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS STILL MISSING
Margaret walked to the apartment window.
Outside, dusk had begun settling across the parking lot.
Streetlights flickered on one by one.
A little girl rode a scooter between parked cars while her father watched nearby.
The ordinary scene felt painfully distant from the fear inside Apartment 2B.
She quietly asked,
"Should we leave?"
Elise looked confused.
"What do you mean?"
"If someone threatened this family..."
"...maybe staying here isn't safe."
Before anyone answered, Theodore spoke.
"No."
Margaret turned.
"No?"
"If they're watching this apartment..."
"...they already know we're here."
"So?"
"If we suddenly disappear..."
"...they'll panic."
"And frightened people make dangerous decisions."
Elise's face grew pale.
"You think Victor might actually hurt us?"
Theodore didn't answer immediately.
"I think someone who sends photographs like that wants us to believe he will."
Another silence.
This one heavier than the others.
Margaret suddenly remembered something Nathan had once told her years ago.
He had been twenty-six.
Freshly promoted.
Proud.
They had been sitting on the porch after Thanksgiving dinner.
Nathan laughed and said,
"Mom, someday I'll make enough money that none of us will ever worry again."
At the time she thought it was ambition.
Now...
She wondered whether that dream had slowly become desperation.
Theodore interrupted her thoughts.
"I need internet."
"You just disconnected everything," Ethan said.
"I disconnected Nathan's devices."
He opened his own laptop from one of the suitcases.
Unlike Nathan's computer, Theodore's machine contained almost nothing except spreadsheets, tax software, and bookmarked financial databases.
He searched one company.
Blackridge Consulting.
No active corporate website.
No meaningful business history.
Recently dissolved.
He searched another.
Hollow Creek Holdings.
Registered only eighteen months earlier.
Minimal public information.
Different mailing address.
Same registered agent.
Theodore stopped typing.
Margaret recognized that look.
"What?"
"The companies are connected."
"How?"
"They use the same legal representative."
Elise leaned forward.
"So they're fake?"
"Not fake."
"Worse."
"What does that mean?"
"They exist."
"Only not for the reasons they claim."
Theodore searched the registered agent's name.
Nothing unusual.
Then he searched previous companies associated with him.
Dozens appeared.
Most had existed less than three years before disappearing.
Margaret frowned.
"Why create so many businesses?"
Theodore answered quietly.
"To move money."
Ethan looked confused.
"You mean laundering?"
Theodore looked surprised.
"You know that word?"
"I watch crime documentaries."
Theodore almost smiled.
"Then yes."
"Something very similar."
Elise covered her face.
"Nathan got involved in money laundering?"
"We don't know."
"But we know money flowed."
"We know identities were stolen."
"And we know shell companies exist."
He looked around the table.
"Those facts are enough."
Margaret's phone rang.
Everyone jumped.
The caller ID displayed only one word.
Nathan
Her heart nearly stopped.
She looked toward Theodore.
He nodded once.
"Speaker."
Margaret answered.
"...Nathan?"
Several seconds passed.
Only breathing.
Then his voice.
Soft.
Tired.
"Mom."
Margaret felt tears filling her eyes.
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"We found Elise."
"I know."
"You know?"
"I saw Grandpa's car."
Everyone looked toward the window.
Nathan had been nearby.
Maybe still was.
Margaret hurried toward the curtains but Theodore stopped her.
"Don't."
Nathan continued.
"I'm sorry."
Margaret closed her eyes.
"Sorry isn't enough."
"I know."
"The children—"
"I know."
"Nine months, Nathan."
Silence.
Then...
"I never wanted this."
Margaret's voice broke.
"Then come home."
"I can't."
"You absolutely can."
"No."
"You don't understand."
"Help me understand."
"I can't."
Theodore quietly wrote every word.
Margaret continued.
"Who's Victor?"
Silence.
Then the line crackled.
"Mom..."
"...burn everything."
Everyone froze.
"What?"
"The papers."
"The laptop."
"Everything."
"Nathan—"
"If they can't get the files..."
"...they lose."
Theodore suddenly spoke loudly enough for Nathan to hear.
"If we destroy evidence..."
"...you'll never clear your name."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
Finally Nathan whispered,
"I don't deserve to."
The line went dead.
Nobody moved.
Margaret slowly lowered the phone.
"He sounded..."
She couldn't finish.
Ethan did.
"Scared."
Theodore immediately checked the call log.
Private number.
No location.
No trace.
Elise sat back down.
"He could have talked to us."
"He wanted to," Margaret whispered.
"He just..."
"...couldn't."
Theodore wasn't convinced.
"He chose not to."
Margaret looked at him.
"You think he's lying?"
"I think frightened people tell partial truths."
"Not always complete ones."
Twenty minutes later there was another surprise.
Not a phone call.
Not a message.
A knock.
Three quick taps.
Everyone became still again.
Ethan slowly looked through the peephole.
"It's Mr. Vance."
The landlord entered carrying a small cardboard package.
"This was left downstairs."
"For you."
"No return address."
Margaret frowned.
"We weren't expecting anything."
Mr. Vance shrugged.
"The delivery guy said it was urgent."
After he left, nobody touched the box.
Theodore carefully examined it.
No ticking.
No strange smell.
Just brown tape.
He slowly opened it.
Inside lay only three things.
A small silver key.
A printed bus station locker receipt.
And a handwritten note.
Locker 214 was only the beginning.
If you want your son alive...
Go to Locker 731 before noon tomorrow.
Beneath the message was a second line written in different handwriting.
One Margaret recognized instantly.
May you like
Nathan's.
Dad... come alone.
