I became a private driver for a wealthy widow because I needed money after she accused me of stealing, I found a hidden note from her in the car and was left stunned.

My name was written across it.

I opened it.

The letter began:

“Stan, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

I couldn’t continue.

My hands shook violently.

Then I saw the final paragraph.

“I didn’t leave your mother and you. I was forced to disappear because I discovered who was stealing from the company. I spent years collecting proof. Mrs. Whitmore promised me she

would protect you if anything happened to me.”

A tear fell onto the paper.

Then I read the final sentence.

“The person responsible is someone you trust.”

I looked up.

At that exact moment, a black SUV stopped outside the garage.

Two men stepped out.

One of them pointed toward the Mercedes.

I grabbed the box.

My phone rang.

Mrs. Whitmore.

I answered.

Her voice was barely audible.

“Stan… leave the garage immediately.”

“Who are they?”