Chapter 45 Chapter 45
FORTY-FIVE~
I showed the text to Agent Torres immediately.
"Another untraceable burner phone," she said after analyzing it. "Whoever this is, they know how to hide their tracks."
"What secrets?" I asked. "What could possibly be left that we don't know about?"
"I don't know," Agent Torres admitted. "But someone out there thinks there's something worth threatening you over."
Over the next few days, I tried to figure out who could be behind the new threats. Everyone connected to James's crimes had been caught. Everyone who'd threatened us before was either dead or in prison.
So who was left?
Agent Torres had the same question. She assigned a team to investigate, but they came up empty.
"It's like chasing ghosts," one of the agents complained. "There's no digital trail, no physical evidence, nothing."
Meanwhile, the texts kept coming. One every few days, each more cryptic than the last.
The truth about your family goes deeper than you know.
James's confession wasn't complete. He left out the worst parts.
When you discover what he really did, you'll wish you'd never asked questions.
"They're trying to scare us," Declan said. "Make us paranoid."
"It's working," I admitted.
I started having nightmares again. Waking up in cold sweats, convinced someone was in the house. Dr. Chen increased our therapy sessions.
"You're experiencing PTSD symptoms," she diagnosed. "Years of threats have trained your brain to expect danger constantly."
"How do I make it stop?" I asked.
"By addressing the root cause," Dr. Chen said. "Which means finding whoever is sending these messages and eliminating the threat."
Easier said than done.
Two weeks after the first message, something happened that changed everything.
I got a package in the mail. No return address, no sender information.
Inside was a flash drive and a note.
If you want to know the truth about James Harris, watch this. But be warned—some truths are better left buried.
Agent Torres's tech team analyzed the flash drive for viruses before letting us view the contents.
It was a video. James Harris, looking much younger than in his confession videos, talking to the camera.
"My name is James Harris," he said. "And if you're watching this, it means I'm dead and someone has decided the world needs to know my darkest secret."
He paused, looking directly into the camera.
"I killed someone. Not Diana Lawson, though I'm responsible for her death too. I'm talking about someone else. Someone whose death I've carried for forty years."
My breath caught.
"His name was Thomas Reed," James continued. "He was my business partner in the early days of Norex. We started the company together, fifty-fifty partners. But Thomas wanted to take the company in a different direction than I did. We fought constantly. And one night, during a particularly heated argument, I lost control."
James's voice cracked.
"I pushed him. He fell, hit his head on the corner of a desk. He died instantly. I panicked. I was young, stupid, terrified of going to prison. So I covered it up. Made it look like Thomas had died in a car accident on his way home from the office."
"Oh my God," I whispered.
James continued. "I paid off the police, falsified records, even gave Thomas's widow money to keep her quiet. And it worked. Everyone believed Thomas died in an accident. I inherited his shares of Norex. The company grew. And I built everything on that lie."
The video ended.
"James killed his business partner," Agent Torres said quietly. "That's what the messages have been about. Someone knows about this murder."
"But who?" I asked. "Thomas Reed's widow would be in her eighties now, if she's even alive."
"We need to find her," Agent Torres said. "She's the only one who would know about the cover-up."
The FBI tracked down Margaret Reed, Thomas's widow. She was eighty-three and living in a nursing home.
Agent Torres and I went to interview her together.
"Mrs. Reed," Agent Torres began gently. "We need to talk to you about your husband's death."
Margaret's eyes sharpened. "Thomas was murdered. James Harris killed him."
"You knew?" I asked, shocked.
"Of course I knew," Margaret said. "James paid me off to stay quiet. Two million dollars in exchange for my silence. I took it because I had three young children to raise and no other income."
"Why didn't you ever come forward?" Agent Torres asked.
"Because I was terrified," Margaret said simply. "James made it clear that if I ever told anyone, my children would suffer. I believed him. So I kept quiet for forty years."
"But you're telling us now," I pointed out.
"Because James is dead," Margaret said. "He can't hurt my children anymore. They're all adults now, with families of their own. I'm not protecting James anymore. I'm setting the record straight."
"Did James really make a video confession about killing Thomas?" I asked.
"I don't know," Margaret said. "But it sounds like something he might do at the end. Try to ease his conscience."
"Mrs. Reed, do you know who might be threatening my family with this information?" I asked.
Margaret looked confused. "Threatening you? Why would anyone threaten you about this?"
"Someone sent us the video," I explained. "Along with messages saying there are secrets that will destroy our family."
"It wasn't me," Margaret said. "I wouldn't threaten anyone. I just want people to know the truth about what James did."
We believed her. But that left us back at square one.
If Margaret wasn't sending the threats, who was?
"Thomas Reed had three children," Agent Torres said as we left the nursing home. "We need to talk to them."
We tracked down Thomas Reed's oldest son, Michael. He was fifty-eight and running a successful law firm.
"My father was murdered by James Harris," he said bluntly when we met with him. "My mother told us the truth before she moved into the nursing home. Said she'd kept the secret long enough."
"Are you the one sending threatening messages to my family?" I asked directly.
"No," Michael said. "I'm angry about what happened to my father, yes. But I'm not interested in revenge. I'm interested in justice."
"Justice how?" Agent Torres asked.
"I want James Harris's reputation destroyed," Michael said. "I want everyone to know he was a murderer, not a successful businessman. I want Norex investigated for being built on blood money."
"Norex is a legitimate company now," I said. "My husband has nothing to do with James's crimes."
"Your husband benefited from those crimes," Michael said coldly. "He inherited a company built on my father's murder. That makes him complicit."
"That's not fair," I protested.
"Fair?" Michael asked. "My father's death wasn't fair. My childhood without a father wasn't fair. My mother living in fear for forty years wasn't fair. Don't talk to me about fair."
He had a point. But that didn't make his accusations against Declan right.
"If you're not sending the threats, who is?" I asked.
"I don't know," Michael said. "But I have my suspicions."
"Who?" Agent Torres pressed.
"My sister, Olivia," Michael said. "She's... not well. Mentally. She became obsessed with our father's death years ago. Blamed the Harris family for everything wrong in her life. I tried to help her, but she pushed me away."
"Where is Olivia now?" Agent Torres asked.
"I don't know," Michael admitted. "She cut contact with the family five years ago. Last I heard, she was living somewhere in the city, but she moves around a lot."
Agent Torres immediately put out an alert for Olivia Reed. But finding her proved difficult.
"She's been off the grid for years," Agent Torres reported. "No credit cards, no bank accounts, no address. She's living completely under the radar."
"So she could be anywhere," I said.
"Yes," Agent Torres agreed. "But we're looking."
That night, I got another text.
Did you meet Michael? Did he tell you about me? I'm the one James Harris destroyed. And now I'm going to destroy everything he built, starting with his precious family.
"Olivia," I said, showing Declan the message. "It has to be Olivia Reed."
"Thomas Reed's daughter," Declan said. "The one who's been obsessed with her father's death."
"She blames us," I said. "All of us. For benefiting from James's crimes."
"But we didn't know," Declan protested.
"It doesn't matter," I said. "In her mind, we're guilty by association."
The next morning, I got a call from Liam's school.
"Mrs. Harris, there's been an incident," the principal said, and my heart sank.
"What kind of incident?" I demanded.
"Someone tried to pick up Liam," the principal said. "A woman claiming to be his aunt. But Liam said he didn't recognize her, and when we asked for ID, she ran."
"Was it Olivia Reed?" I asked.
"We don't know," the principal said. "But we called the police. They're reviewing security footage now."
I was at the school in ten minutes. The police showed me the security footage.
The woman was wearing a wig and glasses, trying to disguise her appearance. But I could see something familiar in her eyes. Something desperate and dangerous.
"That's her," I told Agent Torres. "That's Olivia Reed."
"She's escalating," Agent Torres said grimly. "First threats, now attempted kidnapping. We need to find her before she does something worse."
But Olivia was good at hiding. Days passed with no sign of her.
And then, a week after the attempted kidnapping, something terrible happened.
I was at work when I got a call from Declan.
"Anita, someone broke into the house," he said, his voice shaking.
"Are you okay? Are the kids okay?" I asked frantically.
"We're fine," Declan said. "We weren't home. But Anita, they left something. You need to see this."
I drove home immediately. The house looked normal from the outside, but inside was a different story.
Every wall was covered with photos. Photos of James Harris, of Thomas Reed, of our family. All connected with red string, like some kind of conspiracy board.
And in the center, written in red paint on the living room wall, were the words:
JUSTICE FOR THOMAS REED. DEATH TO THE HARRIS FAMILY.
"She's planning to kill us," I said quietly.
"All of us," Declan agreed.
Agent Torres arrived shortly after and surveyed the damage.
"This is a threat assessment nightmare," she said. "Olivia Reed is clearly unstable and fixated on your family. We need to get you somewhere safe."
"We're not running again," I said. "We're done running."
"Then what do you propose?" Agent Torres asked.
"We find her," I said. "We draw her out and we end this."
"How?" Agent Torres asked.
I thought for a moment. Then I had an idea.
"We give her what she wants," I said. "We publicly acknowledge what James did to Thomas Reed. We offer restitution to the Reed family. We show Olivia that we're taking responsibility."
"You think that will satisfy her?" Agent Torres asked skeptically.
"No," I admitted. "But it might make her careless. Make her think she's won. And when she lets her guard down, we grab her."
It was risky. But we didn't have better options.
The next day, I called a press conference.
"I'm here to make an announcement about my father-in-law, James Harris," I said to the assembled reporters. "Recently, evidence has come to light that James was responsible for the death of his business partner, Thomas Reed, over forty years ago."
The reporters erupted with questions. I continued over them.
"The Harris family acknowledges this terrible crime. We're working with authorities to provide any information that might help bring justice for Thomas Reed and his family. We're also establishing a foundation in Thomas's name to support the Reed family and other victims of James's crimes."
After the press conference, we waited.
Two days later, Olivia made her move.
She showed up at the foundation office where we were supposedly meeting with the Reed family.
But instead of the Reeds, she found FBI agents waiting.
"Olivia Reed, you're under arrest," Agent Torres said.
Olivia didn't run. She didn't fight.
She just smiled.
"It doesn't matter," she said. "The truth is out. James Harris's reputation is destroyed. That's all I wanted."
She was arrested and charged with stalking, attempted kidnapping, breaking and entering, and making terroristic threats.
But as they led her away, Olivia looked at me one last time.
"This isn't over," she said. "There are more secrets. More lies. And eventually, they'll all come out."
Then she was gone.
"Is she right?" I asked Agent Torres later. "Are there more secrets?"
"I don't know," Agent Torres admitted. "But Anita, at some point, you have to stop waiting for the next threat. You have to just live your life."
She was right.
I was so tired of living in fear.
So tired of waiting for the next attack.
It was time to just... live.