Chapter 48 - The Road Where Andrew Died
The road outside Boston was quiet.
Too quiet.
A narrow strip of asphalt curved through a wooded hillside before descending toward a small bridge.
There were no dramatic cliffs.
No obvious hazards.
Just a place where an ordinary drive had ended in tragedy.
Natalie stood beside the roadside memorial, holding a small bouquet of white flowers.
Grayson and Alexandra remained a few steps behind her.
I watched them in silence.
We hadn't come to conduct our own investigation.
The authorities were already reviewing the new witness information and the historical crash evidence.
We had come because Andrew deserved to be remembered as a person, not merely discussed as evidence.
Natalie knelt beside the flowers.
"Oliver asked me if his daddy was scared," she whispered.
My heart tightened.
"What did you tell him?"
"That I didn't know."
She wiped her cheeks.
"I hate not knowing."
Alexandra crouched beside her.
"Andrew loved you both."
Natalie nodded.
"I know."
Grayson approached slowly.
He placed a small stone beside the memorial.
On it, Grace had painted a blue dinosaur.
I smiled through my tears.
"She insisted Andrew needed something from his family."
Natalie covered her mouth.
For a moment, all four of us stood together.
No headlines.
No billion-dollar offers.
No threats.
Just the terrible weight of a man missing from the lives of people who loved him.
Later, we met with an investigator who explained the status of the renewed inquiry.
The witness's account was being evaluated alongside available traffic records, vehicle information, and earlier reports.
Nothing had yet established that Andrew's death was deliberately caused.
But the possibility of another vehicle's involvement was receiving serious scrutiny.
I appreciated the careful language.
We had already experienced the damage caused when people treated allegations as facts.
"Will you be able to tell us what happened?" Natalie asked.
"We'll follow the available evidence," the investigator replied. "I won't promise an outcome we haven't established."
Natalie nodded.
It wasn't the certainty she wanted.
But it was an honest answer.
That evening, Grayson received a call from Sebastian Vale.
For months, Sebastian had communicated through lawyers.
The sudden direct contact surprised us.
Grayson put the call on speaker with Evelyn participating.
"Grayson," Sebastian began pleasantly. "I hear you've been making quite a spectacle of your father's old affairs."
Grayson's expression hardened.
"We're reviewing legitimate questions."
"Your father wouldn't appreciate this."
"My father's opinion is no longer the measure of what I do."
A pause followed.
Then Sebastian laughed softly.
"You've changed."
"Yes."
"Claire's influence, I assume."
I folded my arms.
Grayson looked at me.
"Claire has helped me understand that keeping secrets isn't the same as protecting people."
Sebastian's voice cooled.
"Careful. Some truths carry consequences."
Evelyn intervened.
"Mr. Vale, any communication concerning the pending transaction or disputed records should proceed through counsel."
Sebastian ignored her.
"Grayson, you could walk away from this with your company intact."
"And what would you get?"
"An orderly resolution."
Grayson smiled without humor.
"That's not an answer."
Sebastian sighed.
"Then I suppose we'll see what the shareholders decide."
He ended the call.
Grayson stared at the phone.
I touched his shoulder.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded.
"He's not used to hearing no."
I looked out at the darkening sky.
"Then he should practice."
The following morning, Samuel called with an unexpected discovery.
The fifth account had not been inactive for eleven years.
Someone had continued filing administrative documents connected to it.
The records included changes to trustee information.
And one amendment, filed shortly after Andrew's death, named a new proposed successor administrator.
Malcolm Pierce.
I stared at the document.
"Does that mean he controlled it?"
"Not necessarily," Samuel answered. "The amendment's validity and legal effect need review."
Grayson leaned forward.
"Who authorized it?"
Samuel hesitated.
"That's the problem."
"Why?"
"The signature appears to belong to Thomas Keene."
I looked up.
"But Thomas says he was hiding."
May you like
Samuel nodded.
"And he says he never signed it."
