Ryan never imagined that a funeral would turn into the strangest day of his life. It all started with Bella, his loyal dog. As he stepped out of his car in front of the church, he already felt the heavy weight of grief hanging over him. “I’m not ready for this,” Ryan thought, his mind heavy with thoughts of his father, Arnold, and the funeral that seemed all too quick, too final.
Ryan’s attention snapped to Bella when her sharp bark echoed across the parking lot. He turned, and saw her more frantic than usual, pacing around in the car. “Bella!” he called, signaling her to lie down. She obeyed, but her eyes remained wide with worry. Ryan gave her a quick pat on the head. “Stay, Bella,” he ordered, but Bella’s whining was relentless.
Ignoring the dog’s anxiety, Ryan entered the church. His father’s casket sat at the front, solemn and still, covered with flowers. Arnold had passed away from an infectious disease, so the funeral director had taken extra precautions.
Ryan’s mother sat beside him, tears threatening to spill. His father’s body was to be cremated, but even so, the weight of the moment was almost too much.
The service continued as mourners stood to sing the final hymn, but then—bark! Bella’s frantic bark pierced through the church. She leapt onto the casket, knocking over the flower arrangement in the process, and began barking furiously. Everyone turned to stare.
Ryan’s heart raced. Something wasn’t right. Bella’s posture was stiff, alert, and fixed on the casket. Without thinking, Ryan shot out of his seat and shouted, “Open the casket!”
The gasps from the crowd were drowned out by his own panic. He rushed over to the casket and pried it open. His blood ran cold—his father’s body was gone. The casket was empty.
“Wh-Where’s my brother?” Ryan’s uncle gasped, his eyes wide with confusion, glancing at the funeral director.
Ryan didn’t even hear him. He was too stunned to speak. His mother’s body went limp, and her eyes rolled back. In a rush of panic, Ryan caught her before she hit the ground, his heart pounding in his chest. He rushed her to the hospital, praying she would be okay.
At the hospital, Ryan made the difficult call to the police. Detective Bradshaw answered, his voice calm despite the chaos. “We’re still piecing together the details. The coroner confirmed the cause of death, and the body was released to the funeral home. Was your father involved in any shady business?” she asked.
Ryan thought for a moment. He hadn’t been involved in his father’s business for years, ever since he started his own dog training center. But his father had always been honest. “No, Detective. I don’t believe he was,” Ryan replied.
Bradshaw promised to keep him updated, but Ryan wasn’t about to wait. With his mother in the hospital and Bella waiting for him at home, Ryan went straight to the morgue to get some answers. What he found, though, was more bizarre than he could have imagined.
The coroner had resigned, and there was no replacement yet. When Ryan tried to look up his father’s file, the nurse at the desk turned him down.
Ryan wasn’t the type to give up easily. He slipped the nurse a wad of cash and snuck into the coroner’s office. His search was in vain, though. Arnold’s file was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, he pulled out his phone, just in time to see a message from his father’s lawyer, Mr. Stevens.
“Ryan, we need to talk. I’m now the CEO of your father’s company. Get here as soon as you can,” Mr. Stevens wrote.
Ryan wasted no time. He went straight to his father’s office, hoping to find some clue as to what had happened. As soon as he opened the door, he noticed something was off. Arnold’s email inbox was empty. It looked like someone had wiped it clean.
“Who’s been using this computer?” Ryan demanded.
“No one,” Mr. Stevens answered, his face unreadable.
Ryan’s eyes scanned the room, landing on a pair of missing figurines from Arnold’s collection. “Where are the dancers?” he asked, his suspicion growing.
“They were taken home by Arnold. You know how much he loved those figurines. He was always after the third one, but the owner wouldn’t sell it for less than half a million,” Mr. Stevens said, shrugging.
Ryan wasn’t convinced. He’d searched his parents’ house thoroughly and hadn’t found the figurines. But there was no time to dwell on that. Mr. Stevens dropped a bombshell: Arnold’s company was in deep debt. He had been missing meetings for months, and investors were getting nervous.
“It all started when Arnold hired his new secretary,” Mr. Stevens added, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I believe he was having an affair with her.”
Ryan felt his blood boil. He wanted to confront this secretary, Miss Pearson, right away, but Mr. Stevens stopped him. “Think of your mother. This will only hurt her.”
Ryan spent the rest of the day managing the company’s finances, trying to put out the fire Arnold had left behind. But that night, he followed Miss Pearson.
He parked outside her house, determined to find out what she was hiding. Hours passed, and Ryan’s patience was wearing thin when Miss Pearson finally drove off. Ryan followed her at a distance, but his gut told him she was leading him somewhere important.
He followed her car into a suburban neighborhood and watched as she parked in a modest garage. Ryan’s heart raced. He snuck into the garage just as the door was closing and found a hidden door leading into her house.
He crept through her home, searching for anything that could explain his father’s disappearance. Then, in her bedroom, Ryan froze. On the nightstand, there was a framed photo of Arnold and Miss Pearson—kissing. Anger surged through him, but he kept his focus. He needed answers, not a fight.
In a drawer, he found a Manila envelope. Inside was Arnold’s life insurance policy, worth $7 million. The beneficiary? Miss Pearson.
Ryan wasted no time. He drove straight to the police station and handed the policy over to Detective Bradshaw. “This could be a game-changer,” she said, eyeing the document closely.
Just then, a team of officers burst in with urgent news. Miss Pearson had booked a flight to Morocco, leaving in less than an hour. Ryan, desperate to catch her before she escaped, followed them to the airport. As they raced through security, they spotted her. “Police!” Detective Bradshaw shouted.
But when they reached her, Ryan’s heart sank. It wasn’t Miss Pearson. She was gone. The chase had led nowhere.
Feeling defeated, Ryan returned to his car. But deep down, he knew his father was still alive. The figurines were a clue, he was sure of it. He tracked down the collector who owned the third figurine and made a bold offer.
“$750,000,” Ryan said, barely able to keep his voice steady.
The collector, Mr. Frederick, was reluctant but agreed to the price after some haggling. Ryan left the auction house, feeling a mix of triumph and dread. The figurine was his, but would it lead him to his father?
At home, his mother was waiting for him. “Where have you been, Ryan?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you all day, and Bella’s been pacing around here, missing you.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Ryan muttered, guilt flooding through him. “Just trust me… it’s all for a reason. It will be over soon.”
That night, Ryan stood at the back of the auction house, heart pounding as the figurine was brought to the front for bidding. The price climbed higher and higher, but Ryan didn’t care about the money anymore. He needed to get his father’s attention.
“$600,000 going once…” the auctioneer called.
Ryan’s pulse quickened. Was his father going to show up?
“…going twice…” the auctioneer continued.
Then, the voice he’d been waiting for. “$1 million!” Ryan whipped around, and there, near the back of the room, stood Arnold, wearing a wide-brimmed hat. His father. Alive.
Ryan’s shock was replaced with anger. He rushed forward, blocking his father’s escape. “You tricked me! You faked your death for this?”
Arnold hung his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I just wanted a new life,” he muttered, his voice breaking.
Detective Bradshaw stepped forward and slapped cuffs on Arnold. As they led him away, Arnold shot one last look at Ryan. “You did this to me,” he said bitterly.
“No, Dad,” Ryan retorted, his voice filled with emotion. “You did this to yourself.”
As the police car pulled away, Ryan turned to Detective Bradshaw. “What happens now?”
“Now,” she said, “Miss Pearson will be caught. And you’ll get the answers you’ve been looking for.”
And with that, Ryan finally knew the truth. His father had betrayed them all. But in the end, it was Ryan who had exposed him.
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