Chapter 14 - DIANE KNEW
Emily did not remember walking out of Peter’s house.
One second she was in the kitchen.
The next she was standing beside Matthew’s car with cold wind hitting her face.
“Emily.”
She looked at him.
“Peter poisoned my father by accident.”
Matthew did not answer.
“Diane knew.”
He nodded once.
“She let him drive.”
Her voice cracked.
“She let him get in the car.”
Matthew stepped closer.
Emily backed away.
He stopped.
“I’m not going to touch you.”
“I know.”
She covered her face with both hands.
For eleven months, she had replayed the crash.
Rain.
A guardrail.
A state trooper at the door.
Diane collapsing into the hallway.
Emily holding her stepmother while Diane screamed Arthur’s name.
Now the memory changed shape.
Diane had known.
Maybe she had expected the medication to make Arthur sick.
Maybe she had hoped it would.
Emily did not know.
That uncertainty was worse than a clean accusation.
Rachel arrived with two state investigators.
Emily gave them the call recording from Mrs. Lang’s kitchen camera.
She gave them the toxicology report.
She gave them Diane’s statement outside the burning building.
Then she sat on the curb and stared at her squeaky shoes.
One of the investigators asked, “Do you want to take a break?”
“No.”
“We can continue later.”
“No.”
He sat beside her.
“Okay.”
That was all.
She appreciated him for it.
By noon, police had issued an alert for Peter Lang and Graham Ambrose.
By 12:20, Ambrose’s attorneys released a statement calling the allegations “a reckless fabrication by a distressed young woman under the influence of corporate raiders.”
Emily read it twice.
Matthew took the phone from her.
“Stop reading comments.”
“Give it back.”
“No.”
Her head snapped up.
He immediately handed it back.
“Sorry.”
She stared at him.
“That was fast.”
“I’m learning.”
“Slowly.”
“Yes.”
Online, half the comments believed her.
Half did not.
Some said she was brave.
Some said she was a spoiled heiress inventing abuse to steal a company.
One person wrote that the bruise on her cheek looked fake.
Emily touched it without thinking.
Then she closed the app.
Diane’s attorney called Rachel at 1:03.
Diane wanted to make a statement.
In person.
To Emily.
Rachel said no.
Emily said yes.
They met in a conference room at the state police building with two cameras recording.
Diane entered without makeup.
Emily had never seen her do that in public.
She looked smaller.
Not harmless.
Just smaller.
The protective order required them to remain twelve feet apart.
Diane sat at one end of the table.
Emily sat at the other.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Emily said, “You knew Dad had taken the wrong medication.”
Diane looked at the camera.
Then at her attorney.
Her attorney whispered something.
Diane shook her head.
“I’m going to answer.”
She looked at Emily.
“Yes.”
Emily’s fingers curled under the table.
“When did you know?”
“About twenty minutes before he left.”
“Why didn’t you stop him?”
Diane closed her eyes.
“When Peter called me, Arthur and I were fighting.”
“About the money you stole.”
Diane flinched.
“Yes.”
Emily had expected denial.
The admission landed strangely.
“How much?”
“Seven million over four years.”
Rachel’s pen stopped moving.
Emily stared.
“Why?”
“I was covering losses.”
“Your losses?”
“At first.”
“At first?”
Diane looked toward the window.
“Graham introduced me to an investment fund.”
Emily laughed bitterly.
“Of course he did.”
“I lost two million.”
“So you stole more.”
“I thought I could win it back.”
“That is what every stupid thief says.”
Diane’s face tightened.
Emily did not apologize.
She continued.
“Peter called and told you Dad had accidentally taken his medication.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He said Arthur shouldn’t drive.”
Emily leaned forward.
“You heard that.”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing.”
Diane’s voice dropped.
“I was angry.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“No.”
“Did you want him dead?”
Diane’s mouth opened.
Closed.
Her eyes filled.
“I wanted him gone.”
Emily stopped breathing.
Diane looked down.
“For maybe ten seconds, I wanted him to walk out of my life and never come back.”
“You knew he could die.”
“I knew he could get sick.”
“You let him drive.”
“Yes.”
Emily stood so suddenly her chair tipped backward.
The officer near the wall moved.
Rachel held up a hand.
Emily did not cross the room.
She just stood there shaking.
Diane whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Emily laughed.
The sound scared everyone, including her.
“You don’t get that word yet.”
Diane nodded.
A tear fell onto the table.
Emily sat again.
“Why did Peter hide the report?”
“Because I told him I would make sure his daughters knew he killed Arthur.”
Emily stared.
“You blackmailed him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To keep the company from collapsing.”
“No.”
Emily shook her head.
“You keep putting the company at the end of every sentence like it makes the first part better.”
Diane looked away.
Emily asked, “Where is Graham?”
“I don’t know.”
“Lie.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what does he want from Peter?”
Diane’s face went pale.
“He wants Peter’s copy of the ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The Ambrose fund transactions.”
Rachel leaned forward.
“Where is it?”
Diane shook her head.
“Peter kept one copy outside the office.”
Emily thought of the black backpack.
The blue folders.
The fire.
“What happens if Graham gets it?”
Diane looked directly at Emily.
“He can erase the only paper trail connecting him to the judges, the sheriff, and the money stolen from Hale Systems.”
Emily’s phone buzzed on the table.
Unknown number.
A video file.
She opened it.
Peter Lang appeared tied to a chair in a dark room.
His face was bruised.
Graham Ambrose stood behind him.
He looked into the camera.
“Emily, bring me the bank flash drive by six o’clock.”
Emily glanced at Rachel.
The flash drive had been inside the seized steel box.
Ambrose smiled.
“If you involve the police, Peter dies.”
Then he leaned closer to the camera.
“And before you assume I’m bluffing, ask Matthew what happened to Danielle Price after his father bought her silence.”
The video ended.
Emily slowly looked toward the observation window.
May you like
Matthew was standing behind it.
And for the first time since she met him, he looked afraid of her question.
