Chapter 11 - THE NIGHT THOMAS BELL DIED
Sabrina denied everything.
“I never met Thomas Bell.”
They were in a protected conference room beneath the military courthouse. Cross had arranged temporary security after the bank attack.
Amelia placed Arthur’s statement on the table.
“He says you were present the night Bell died.”
“I was twenty. I was in college.”
“Where?”
Sabrina’s face changed.
“I don’t remember.”
“It was eleven years ago, not fifty.”
“I was at school.”
“Mother withdrew you for two weeks after Dad’s funeral.”
Sabrina looked toward Vanessa.
Vanessa sat at the far end of the table beside her attorney.
“Tell her,” Amelia said.
Vanessa remained silent.
Sabrina’s breathing became shallow.
“Tell me what?”
Vanessa finally looked at her oldest daughter.
“You were drugged.”
The room went still.
Sabrina stared at her.
“What?”
“The night Thomas died, Gabriel Shaw invited us to a private memorial gathering. You drank something. You became disoriented.”
“I don’t remember.”
“That was the intention.”
Amelia asked, “Why bring Sabrina?”
“To control me.”
Vanessa’s voice broke slightly.
“Shaw took her into a room where Thomas Bell was already dead. They photographed her beside the body and placed blood on her clothing.”
Sabrina backed away from the table.
“No.”
“I found you unconscious in a car.”
“No.”
“I took you home.”
“You told me I had the flu.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You lied to me for eleven years.”
Vanessa stood.
“I was told that if I spoke, the photographs would be released and you would be charged.”
Sabrina turned toward Amelia.
“Do you believe her?”
Amelia answered honestly.
“I believe part of it.”
Vanessa flinched.
Cross slid a document across the table.
“We recovered Bell’s original autopsy report this morning.”
Vanessa looked at it.
“Original?”
“The public report listed drowning. This version shows a gunshot wound behind the left ear.”
Sabrina covered her mouth.
Cross continued.
“The medical examiner who signed it disappeared three days later.”
Amelia looked at Vanessa.
“Who shot Bell?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was Marcus there?”
“No.”
“Arthur?”
“No.”
“Shaw?”
“Yes.”
“And Kane?”
Vanessa nodded.
Amelia paced across the room.
“Dad found the ledger. Bell prepared the legal evidence. Kane killed Bell and poisoned Dad. Then he used Sabrina to control you.”
Vanessa looked at her.
“That is what I believe.”
“And you kept paying him with my trust.”
“To prevent him from destroying Sabrina.”
“You could have gone to federal investigators.”
“Kane was the federal investigator.”
Cross’s face hardened.
“What about me?”
Vanessa glanced at her.
“Robert trusted you. I did not.”
“Why?”
“Because the last message Robert received before he collapsed came from your secure account.”
Cross became still.
“I never contacted him that day.”
“Someone did.”
Amelia remembered the photograph.
Evelyn Cross had been one of the six.
“Was your account compromised?”
“Possibly.”
“Or you were involved.”
Cross looked directly at Amelia.
“If I were involved, I would not have come here.”
“That is not proof.”
“No,” Cross said. “It isn’t.”
The door opened.
A military investigator entered carrying a laptop.
“We restored part of the cassette from Box 419.”
Cross nodded.
“Play it.”
The screen displayed grainy footage of Robert Hart seated at his study desk. The recording date was six days before his death.
Robert looked sick.
But his voice was steady.
“If you are seeing this, Kane has likely moved against me.”
Amelia leaned closer.
“I have divided the evidence. Vanessa knows where part of it is. Arthur knows the accounts. Evelyn knows the legal chain. Thomas knows the identities.”
Robert looked down.
“But none of them knows the whole truth.”
He lifted a photograph.
The camera could not focus on it.
“Operation Glass Harbor was compromised before Adrian Kane joined it. Someone within my family gave him access.”
Vanessa whispered, “No.”
Robert continued.
“I believed Vanessa betrayed us. I was wrong.”
Amelia looked at her mother.
Tears had appeared in Vanessa’s eyes.
“The betrayal began with someone who had access to my home, my files, and my daughters.”
The recording flickered.
A sound came from behind Robert.
He turned.
The image froze.
Then a woman’s voice spoke off camera.
“You should not have recorded this.”
Sabrina gripped Amelia’s hand.
The voice was familiar.
Not Vanessa’s.
Not Cross’s.
The recording cut to black.
The investigator said, “That is all we recovered.”
Amelia replayed the final sentence in her mind.
She had heard that voice during her childhood.
In the kitchen.
In the hallway.
May you like
Beside her bed when she was sick.
Margaret Doyle.
