Chapter 4 - Forty-Seven Minutes Before the Crash
Police already knew Lucas had stopped before the accident.
They did not know he met Martin Cross.
The official crash report was simple.
Wet pavement.
Late-night driving.
Lucas’s SUV crossed the center line and struck a concrete barrier.
No second vehicle identified.
No mechanical defect noted.
Case closed.
Until the photograph.
Samantha forwarded it to Detective Elena Ruiz.
Within hours, the vehicle was reexamined.
I spent those hours in a hospital bed trying not to go into full labor.
The contractions slowed.
My daughter stabilized.
For the first time all day, I breathed.
Then Charles arrived with a police escort.
I didn’t want him there.
But he had requested to speak to investigators and asked to see me.
I allowed five minutes.
He looked older.
“What did Martin do?”
I showed him the photograph.
Dad sat heavily.
“I didn’t know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“I swear.”
“You brought him into our lives.”
“He was my lawyer.”
“You trusted him with my signature.”
“No.”
“Then how did he get it?”
Dad looked away.
“Years ago, I gave Martin power of attorney for some company transactions.”
There it was.
Martin had access to signatures.
Corporate records.
Estate information.
Everything.
“Did Lucas suspect him?”
“I think so.”
The night before Lucas died, he called Charles.
Told him to stop approving payments to three vendors.
Charles became furious.
Accused Lucas of trying to seize the company.
They argued.
Then Lucas said:
“Tomorrow I’ll show you who’s actually robbing you.”
He never got tomorrow.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because after Lucas died, Martin showed me documents saying Lucas had secretly leveraged the company and your house.”
“And you believed him.”
Dad closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“So you came to take my home.”
“I thought I was preventing foreclosure.”
“You dragged me out by my hair.”
His face broke.
There was no explanation for that.
Good.
Some actions shouldn’t have explanations.
Then Detective Ruiz entered.
She looked directly at Charles.
“Mr. Baldwin, we need you downstairs.”
“Why?”
“Martin Cross is missing.”
My stomach tightened.
His office had been emptied overnight.
Computer drives removed.
Passport gone.
But investigators found one thing.
A shred bin.
Recovered pieces revealed a document referencing a life-insurance policy.
Lucas Gallagher.
$25 million.
Beneficiary:
Baldwin-Gallagher Logistics.
Authorized company representative:
Charles Baldwin.
Dad stared.
“I didn’t know that existed.”
Ruiz asked:
“Who would receive the money if the company collected?”
Charles looked sick.
“The company.”
“Who controlled the company before yesterday?”
He whispered:
“I did.”
Motive.
Twenty-five million dollars.
And Martin had paperwork making my father look like the obvious suspect.
Then Samantha received another call.
The insurance company had already received a claim.
Filed eleven days after Lucas died.
Electronic authorization:
Charles Baldwin.
Dad nearly collapsed.
“I never filed that.”
Someone was building a murder case around him.
And whoever it was had almost succeeded.
Then Ruiz’s phone rang.
She listened.
Her eyes moved toward me.
“What?”
She ended the call.
“Martin Cross’s car was just found at Syracuse Hancock International Airport.”
“Did he fly?”
“No.”
“Then where is he?”
May you like
Ruiz hesitated.
“There’s blood in the trunk.”
