Chapter 3 - THE DRIVER WHO REMEMBERED
The driver agreed to meet at a small café near the river. Alejandro went with Daniel and two security officers, arriving through the rear entrance to avoid reporters.
His leg was still weak. He used a cane for longer distances, though he hated the attention it attracted. He had chosen not to bring the wheelchair. He wanted the driver to see that he could stand, but he did not want to make the meeting about his recovery.
The man was waiting at a corner table. He was in his late fifties, with thinning hair and a pale scar beneath his chin.
“Mr. Alejandro,” he said.
Alejandro sat opposite him.
“Tell me what happened the night of the accident.”
The driver looked at Daniel, then at the security officers.
“I was hired to take you from the private airstrip to the city. They said your regular driver was unavailable.”
“Who hired you?”
“A woman from Mr. Salas's office.”
“Renata?”
“I didn't meet her. I spoke to a man who said he represented her.”
The driver rubbed his palms together.
“The car was already waiting. I was told the route had been cleared. But halfway down the mountain road, the brakes stopped responding.”
Alejandro's jaw tightened.
“Did you check the vehicle before leaving?”
“I did. The brake fluid was low, but the mechanic said it was safe to drive a short distance. I didn't know the line had been damaged.”
“Did you report that?”
“Yes. I called the contractor. They told me to keep driving and that someone would meet us.”
“Who?”
The driver lowered his voice.
“A black SUV. It followed us for several miles. When the car began to slide, I saw it stop on the shoulder.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Did you see who was inside?”
“Not clearly. But I saw a woman in the passenger seat. She had a red scarf.”
Alejandro remembered Renata's red scarf. She had worn it at the hospital the morning after the accident, telling reporters she had been waiting for him all night.
“Did you see her face?”
“No. But I heard her voice through the window after the crash. She said, ‘Is he alive?’”
The café seemed to grow smaller.
Alejandro looked at the driver.
“Why didn't you tell the police?”
“I did. But the report said the vehicle had suffered a mechanical failure. A week later, I was paid to leave the country. I was frightened. I had a daughter in college.”
“Who paid you?”
The driver gave Daniel a bank reference.
“Victor Salas's consulting company.”
Alejandro did not speak for several seconds.
He had spent two years believing that the accident was a terrible coincidence. The investigation had been closed after the vehicle was declared unfit for further examination. He had never imagined that the person who managed his company's money might have arranged the journey.
“Did you know Renata?” he asked.
“No. But I saw her once at the clinic. She came to visit you after the accident. She spoke to the doctor in the hallway. I heard her say that the recovery would take longer if you were transferred.”
Alejandro's hands tightened around the edge of the table.
“Why would she say that?”
The driver shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Daniel asked for a written statement. The driver agreed, provided that his identity and his daughter's safety were protected.
When the meeting ended, Alejandro remained seated.
The rain had begun outside. Cars passed along the river road, their headlights shining through the wet glass.
“Sir,” Daniel said, “we need to tell the authorities everything.”
“Yes.”
“And we need to consider that Renata may have known about the accident before it happened.”
Alejandro looked at him.
“Don't assume more than the evidence supports.”
“I won't.”
On the way back to the mansion, Alejandro called the hospital where he had been treated. He asked for the original records from the night of the accident and the names of every person who had requested access to his medical file.
The hospital's compliance officer said the request would take time.
Alejandro agreed to wait.
At home, he found a small envelope on his desk. It had been delivered by hand. Inside was a photograph of him in the wheelchair, taken from the garden three months earlier.
On the back, someone had written:
You should have stayed where you were.
Alejandro read it twice.
Daniel immediately called security.
The photograph had been taken from inside the estate.
Someone in the mansion had been watching him.
And whoever it was knew that his recovery was no longer a secret.
The driver, whose name was Luis Herrera, gave his formal statement at the police station two days after the café meeting. Daniel attended with Alejandro's lawyer, while Alejandro waited in a separate room so Luis would not feel pressured by the presence of the man whose life had been changed by the crash.
Luis described the route in detail. He remembered a service road where the pavement narrowed, a warning light that appeared on the dashboard, and the moment the steering wheel began to shake. He said he had tried to slow the car, but the brake pedal went almost to the floor.
The investigators asked whether he had deliberately driven the vehicle into danger.
“No,” Luis said. “I had a daughter. I wanted to get home.”
He admitted that he had accepted the job without checking the transport company's license because the payment was unusually high and he had been told the vehicle was insured. He regretted that decision.
The police also asked about the black SUV. Luis said it had followed at a distance and stopped after the crash. He could not identify the occupants with certainty, but he was willing to review photographs.
A week later, investigators showed him a series of images. He did not identify Renata. He did, however, recognize Victor Salas's former assistant in one photograph.
That was important, but it was not proof that she had arranged the crash. The investigators continued tracing the vehicle, the payments, and the communications.
Alejandro learned not to ask for conclusions before the work was complete.
At home, he found himself thinking about the moment he had first opened his eyes in the hospital. Renata had been standing beside the bed, crying. She had told him that she had been terrified of losing him. He had believed her because he wanted to believe her.
The memory now felt uncertain, but he did not want suspicion to rewrite every moment of his past. Some memories might have been sincere. Others might have been carefully staged. He would let the evidence distinguish them.
That evening, Daniel brought him a list of the people who had received money from Victor's consulting company. One name appeared twice: Dr. Esteban Rivas.
The first payment had been made before Alejandro's accident. The second came six weeks later, after the doctor amended the prognosis.
“Could the first payment have been for a legitimate consultation?” Alejandro asked.
“It could,” Daniel replied. “We need the invoice and the service record.”
Alejandro nodded.
“Get them.”
Daniel hesitated. “You sound calmer than you did at the beginning of this investigation.”
“I am trying not to turn every suspicion into a verdict.”
He looked toward the dark window.
May you like
“I know what it feels like to have people decide what you can and cannot do based on one report. I don't want to do that to someone else.”
The investigation was moving forward, but Alejandro understood that the truth would take time. For once, he was willing to wait for it.
