Chapter 7 - THE LAST WARNING
Victor stepped into the study.
Julian closed the door behind him.
I backed away.
“You shouldn't have come here,” Victor said.
Darcy stepped between us.
“Leave.”
Victor smiled.
“You still think this is a legal problem.”
“It is.”
“No.”
His smile disappeared.
“It's a family problem.”
He placed the photograph on the desk.
I stared at it.
My mother was standing outside a hotel.
Beside her was my grandmother.
And beside them was a much younger Eleanor.
All three women were looking at the same man.
Victor.
“What happened that night?” I asked.
Victor didn't answer.
Julian did.
“Your mother found the accounts.”
I turned toward him.
“She discovered the fraud.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
“I knew pieces.”
“You knew my mother?”
“I met her once.”
Victor laughed.
“More than once.”
Julian looked at him.
“Stop.”
Victor ignored him.
“Your husband was working for me.”
My heart sank.
“What?”
Julian closed his eyes.
“It was supposed to be temporary.”
“You were working for him?”
“I was twenty-three.”
“And you knew about my family?”
“Yes.”
The betrayal felt almost physical.
“Then why marry me?”
Julian looked at me.
“I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you.”
I shook my head.
“Don't.”
“I mean it.”
“Don't make this romantic.”
His eyes filled with regret.
“I made a terrible choice.”
“You made thousands of choices.”
Victor interrupted.
“Enough.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small flash drive.
“This contains the original account records.”
Darcy's eyes narrowed.
“Why give it to us?”
Victor looked at me.
“Because Eleanor betrayed me.”
I stared.
“What did she do?”
“She kept something for herself.”
“What?”
Victor smiled bitterly.
“Your mother's final recording.”
The room went silent.
“My mother recorded what happened?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
Victor looked toward Julian.
Julian whispered:
“Eleanor has it.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“She has evidence that my mother was killed?”
Victor nodded.
“She's had it for seventeen years.”
“And now?”
“She wants something.”
“What?”
Victor's expression hardened.
“Your trust.”
My blood ran cold.
“Why?”
“Because your grandmother structured it so that only you can legally expose the people who stole from her.”
I looked at Darcy.
“Can I use the trust to prosecute them?”
“Yes.”
Victor smiled.
“Exactly.”
He leaned closer.
“And that's why they need you to look like the criminal.”
Suddenly, my phone buzzed.
A message from Eleanor.
Come to the old Whitmore estate at midnight.
Bring the trust documents.
Come alone.
May you like
A second message arrived.
If you want to know how your mother died, you'll come.
