Chapter 11 - THE PERSON BEHIND THE AIRPORT PHOTOGRAPHS
The private investigations company that hired Daniel Price was called Northstar Investigations.
I'd never heard of it.
But Rebecca had.
She'd seen the name in Whitman Group's old litigation files.
When we reviewed the corporate records, the ownership trail led through two holding companies.
Then a third.
Then a trust.
And finally to a name that made Noah stop speaking.
Eleanor Whitman.
His mother.
I stared.
"Your mother hired the man at the airport?"
Noah's face was pale.
"Apparently."
I looked toward Rebecca.
"Are you sure?"
"The company is controlled by a trust where Eleanor is the primary authorized decision-maker."
I felt cold.
I'd never met Noah's mother.
I knew only that she was a respected philanthropist who appeared in society magazines and donated millions to museums.
Why would she have anything to do with me?
Noah stood.
"I need to talk to her."
Rebecca nodded.
"Not alone. We should document the conversation appropriately."
He looked toward me.
"I'm sorry."
I shook my head.
"You didn't know."
He gave a humorless laugh.
"That seems to be becoming a theme."
For the first time, I saw how much the investigation was costing him.
His company.
His reputation.
His oldest business relationships.
And now his family.
I looked at Lily.
She was asleep in her stroller.
I wondered whether Noah regretted speaking to us on the plane.
The next afternoon, Eleanor Whitman agreed to meet with investigators and legal counsel.
She arrived wearing a cream-colored coat and a pearl necklace.
Her posture was perfect.
Her expression unreadable.
When she saw me, something flickered across her face.
Recognition.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
"Emily Collins," she said.
I stared.
"You know me?"
She looked toward Noah.
"Of course."
Noah frowned.
"Mother?"
Eleanor sat down.
Then folded her hands.
"I've known about Emily for years."
My heart stopped.
"How?"
She looked at me.
"Because I knew your mother."
The room went silent.
My mother had died when I was eighteen.
She'd been a school librarian.
A quiet woman who loved mystery novels and insisted that handwritten thank-you notes were still important.
I couldn't imagine her knowing a billionaire's mother.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
Eleanor's expression softened.
"Your mother's name was Margaret Parker."
I swallowed.
"Yes."
"She worked for my family's foundation before you were born."
I stared.
"No."
Eleanor nodded.
"She was one of our accountants."
My pulse raced.
"Why didn't she tell me?"
"Because something happened."
Noah leaned forward.
"What happened?"
Eleanor looked toward Rebecca.
Then back at me.
"Margaret discovered financial misconduct connected to Richard Hale."
My hands went cold.
The same man now connected to Ryan and Vanessa.
Eleanor continued.
"Your mother tried to expose it."
I couldn't breathe.
"And?"
Eleanor's eyes filled with tears.
"She disappeared from our lives after receiving threats."
I stared.
Then Noah asked the question I was too frightened to say aloud.
"Mother, why did you hire an investigator to find Emily?"
May you like
Eleanor's voice trembled.
"Because I thought Richard Hale was going to kill her."
