Chapter 3 - THE MAN MY MOTHER TRIED TO EXPOSE
Nathan Calder had been twenty-eight when Vincent's younger brother died.
He'd been the hospital's largest private donor.
A respected businessman.
The trusted cousin who helped stabilize the Calder organization after Daniel's death.
And according to my mother's hidden report, he'd entered a restricted medication room minutes before Daniel suffered a fatal reaction.
I stared at the signature.
"Why wasn't this investigated?"
Vincent's jaw tightened.
"Because the report disappeared from the official hospital file."
"Then how do you have it?"
"An attorney sent me a copy six months ago."
"Who?"
"He died before I could meet him."
A chill moved through me.
"How?"
"Police classified it as an accidental fall."
I looked at Vincent.
"You don't believe that."
"No."
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I remembered the cuff link.
"There's something under Nathan's chair."
Vincent straightened.
"What?"
"A gold cuff link with a black falcon."
His expression darkened.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He reached for his phone.
"Security. Secure the dining room. Photograph everything beneath Nathan's chair before touching it."
A pause.
Then Vincent listened.
His expression changed.
"What do you mean it's gone?"
My stomach dropped.
He ended the call.
"The dining room has already been cleared."
"Nathan?"
"He left."
I stared.
"How?"
"Through the east service entrance."
Vincent stood.
"Stay here."
I stepped forward.
"No."
He turned.
I swallowed.
"Someone photographed me at my mother's grave. Someone poisoned your food. And now the man connected to both has disappeared."
Vincent studied me.
"I'm not going to pretend you're safe simply because you're inside my house."
"Then tell me what's happening."
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Eleven years ago, Daniel was preparing to expose a financial operation within our family companies."
I frowned.
"What kind of operation?"
"Money stolen from medical charities and transferred through shell corporations."
My stomach tightened.
"St. Catherine's?"
"One of several hospitals."
I thought of my mother's ruined life.
"Daniel discovered it?"
"Yes."
"And Nathan?"
"Daniel suspected him."
I looked down at the report.
"Then my mother didn't kill your brother."
Vincent's voice softened.
"I don't believe she did."
For the first time in years, hope felt more frightening than grief.
Because if my mother was innocent, someone had destroyed her life deliberately.
Vincent opened another drawer.
He removed a small silver key.
"Your mother mailed this to Daniel three days before he died."
I stared.
"How do you know?"
"Her initials were engraved on the envelope."
"What does it open?"
"We never found out."
I reached for the key.
Then stopped.
A tiny number was stamped along its edge.
317.
My breath caught.
I knew that number.
It was the room number of the apartment where my mother had hidden something shortly before her death.
An apartment she'd made me promise never to visit.
May you like
And the last thing she'd said before slipping into unconsciousness was:
"If the black falcon ever comes back, find room 317."
