Ryan stepped out of his car and stood before the church, his heart heavy. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to his father. “We couldn’t even give Dad a proper funeral,” he thought sadly.
Suddenly, sharp barking cut through his thoughts. It was Bella, his loyal dog, sounding more agitated than usual from inside the car. “Bella!” Ryan called, signaling her to lie down. She obeyed, but he reached through the open window to stroke her head. “Stay here, girl.”
Ignoring her continued whining, Ryan headed into the church. His father Arnold’s casket was positioned at the front, sealed tightly. Because Arnold had died from a contagious illness, the funeral director had cordoned off the area around it. Ryan took his seat beside his grieving mother. Due to the circumstances, Arnold would be cremated rather than buried. The service drew to a close, and the mourners rose to sing the final hymn.
That’s when Bella’s barking erupted inside the church. The dog had somehow gotten in and leaped onto the casket, knocking over the floral arrangements in a crash. She barked wildly, refusing to stop.
Ryan stared at her. Something felt terribly wrong. “Open the casket!” he shouted.
Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd. Ignoring them, Ryan marched forward and lifted the lid himself. The coffin was empty.
“Where is my brother?” his uncle demanded, staring accusingly at the funeral director.
The revelation was too much for Ryan’s mother. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. Ryan caught her just before her head hit the hard marble floor and rushed her to the hospital.
Later, from his mother’s house, Ryan called the police.
“The coroner confirmed the cause of death and sent the body to the funeral home. That’s all we know so far,” Detective Bradshaw explained. “Did your father have any shady dealings or enemies?”
Ryan had distanced himself from his father’s business to run his own dog training and rehabilitation center. Still, he couldn’t believe Arnold would do anything to tarnish his reputation or the company.
Detective Bradshaw left without solid leads but promised updates. Ryan wasn’t willing to wait. With his mother staying overnight at the hospital, he left Bella at home and drove to the morgue for answers.
“The coroner quit? What about the replacement?” Ryan asked, confused, when the nurse informed him no new coroner had been hired yet.
He asked to see his father’s records, but she refused, citing policy. Knowing he needed to act fast, Ryan placed $1,000 on the desk. The nurse looked away as he slipped into the coroner’s office.
He searched the shelves frantically for Arnold’s file, but it was gone. Frustrated, Ryan’s phone rang. It was his father’s attorney, Mr. Stevens, who said he was now the new CEO and needed to meet Ryan immediately.
At his father’s office, Ryan logged into Arnold’s computer and checked the email. The inbox was completely wiped clean.
“Ryan! Good to see you,” Mr. Stevens said, entering and closing the door behind him.
“Who’s been using this computer?” Ryan demanded.
“No one,” Mr. Stevens replied. Then he noticed something. “Wait, where are the dancers?”
Ryan saw that two small statues were missing from the office.
“He took them home,” Mr. Stevens explained. “Poor Arnold never got the third one in the collection. The owner wouldn’t sell for less than half a million dollars.”
Ryan knew that wasn’t true. He’d thoroughly searched his parents’ house after arriving for the funeral and hadn’t seen those statues anywhere.
“We have bigger problems to deal with,” Mr. Stevens continued. The company faced severe financial troubles. Several key investors were threatening to pull out because Arnold had missed multiple meetings with them in the months leading up to his death.
“This all started when his new assistant came on board. Between you and me, I suspect Arnold was having an affair with her,” Mr. Stevens revealed.
Ryan’s blood boiled as he imagined the pain it would cause his mother. He nearly stormed off to confront the assistant, but Mr. Stevens stopped him, warning it would ruin Arnold’s reputation.
Ryan spent the day stabilizing the company’s finances, sending thoughtful gift packages to the most important investors. Once done, he tracked down his father’s assistant, Miss Pearson, and followed her to a modest suburban home, watching her pull into the garage.
She was his only lead, so he parked outside and waited. Hours later, the garage door opening startled him awake. He saw her driving off toward the city. Instead of tailing her immediately, he had a better idea.
As soon as her car cleared the garage, Ryan jumped out and slipped inside before the door closed. He found a door leading into the house. In the kitchen, he rummaged through drawers until he found a flashlight.
Moving carefully without turning on any lights in case she returned, Ryan made his way to the bedroom. His heart sank when he spotted a framed photo on the nightstand: Miss Pearson and Arnold kissing passionately.
Pushing aside his anger, Ryan reminded himself he was there for clues about what really happened to his father. He searched the entire house but found nothing else of value. Just as he was about to leave, he noticed a drawer in the coffee table slightly ajar.
Inside was a manila folder containing Arnold’s life insurance policy worth $7 million—with Miss Pearson listed as the sole beneficiary. Ryan snatched the document and headed straight to the police station.
“This looks pretty damning,” Detective Bradshaw said as she reviewed the papers. “We’ll look deeper into this Pearson woman.”
As Ryan waited near the front desk, the detective returned with officers. They had discovered Miss Pearson had booked a flight to Morocco leaving in just thirty minutes.
“The US doesn’t have an extradition treaty with Morocco, so we need to question her before she boards!” Detective Bradshaw explained urgently.
Ryan wanted to join them, but the detective refused since he was a civilian. He ignored her and followed anyway.
“Police! Let us through!” Detective Bradshaw shouted as they reached the boarding gate.
Ryan blended in with the group to bypass security and reached the gate area. Officers fanned out, checking passengers.
“You there—the woman with dark hair in the white shirt! Step out of line and put your hands up!” the detective commanded.
Ryan felt a wave of relief, but it vanished when the woman turned around. It wasn’t Miss Pearson.
The police searched the airport for hours, but Miss Pearson had slipped away. Ryan was back to square one. Yet deep inside, he was more convinced than ever that his father was still alive.
He remembered the statues. They weren’t at his mother’s house, so his father must have taken them wherever he’d gone. Ryan researched the collector who owned the third statue and went to visit him.
“How much for it?” Ryan asked, pointing to the statue.
“$750,000,” the collector, Mr. Frederick, replied firmly.
“That’s well above market value for this artist’s work.”
“Take it or leave it, young man. The price is non-negotiable.”
Ryan needed that statue. He asked for time to arrange payment, returned to his car, and called Mr. Stevens. He wanted to sell $750,000 worth of his shares in the company.
“You’ll lose majority control!” Mr. Stevens warned.
“I know, but this is crucial,” Ryan insisted. “I need the cash now. If my theory is right, I’ll get those shares back within a week.”
Mr. Stevens paused thoughtfully. “As the company’s legal counsel and major shareholder, it might be best if I don’t ask too many questions about why you need this money so urgently.”
Then, as a longtime family friend, he added, “But I do need to know if this has anything to do with the Miss Pearson situation I mentioned.”
“Somewhat, yes,” Ryan admitted.
Mr. Stevens sighed deeply. “She’s disappeared too, you know. Didn’t show up for work today, and her phone number is no longer in service. I’ll get you the money… and it’s probably better you don’t ask how I do it.”
This viral mystery has everyone talking—what really happened to Arnold, and will Ryan’s risky move with the priceless statue finally reveal the truth? Stay tuned for the next twist in this gripping story of the day!
