Chapter 3 - THE QUESTION VANESSA COULD NOT ANSWER
Dinner was served in the small dining room rather than the formal hall.
Margaret had prepared roast chicken, potatoes, and the green beans Daniel had loved as a child. Vanessa ate almost nothing.
She spent most of the meal asking questions.
Had Margaret contacted the police?
Were copies of the missing records stored elsewhere?
Did Robert keep documents at the family law office?
Could the stolen folder affect the property title?
Each question sounded casual when considered alone.
Together, they sounded like an interrogation.
Daniel eventually put down his fork.
“Vanessa, let Mom eat.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“You’ve asked her the same question three times.”
Vanessa laughed.
“I’m nervous. Someone entered the house where your mother lives alone.”
“I’m not alone,” Margaret said. “Owen is on the property.”
Vanessa’s expression cooled.
“The caretaker in the cottage?”
“Yes.”
“I thought Daniel planned to replace him after the wedding.”
Daniel turned sharply.
“I never said that.”
“You said the property needed modernization.”
“That doesn’t mean firing Owen.”
Vanessa reached for her wine.
Margaret saw her fingers trembling.
After dinner, Daniel went to inspect the study window with Owen. Vanessa remained in the kitchen while Margaret cleared the plates.
“You don’t have to do that,” Vanessa said.
“I’ve been washing dishes for more than fifty years. I think I’ll survive.”
Vanessa leaned against the counter.
“You don’t like me.”
Margaret placed a dish in the sink.
“I don’t know you well enough.”
“We’ve known each other for two years.”
“Time is not the same as knowledge.”
Vanessa looked toward the back door.
“Daniel loves me.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you keep testing me?”
Margaret dried her hands.
“I wasn’t aware I was.”
“You offer advice he didn’t ask for. You question our financial decisions. You refuse to accept that he has a new family.”
“Marriage does not erase an old family.”
“To some mothers, it should.”
Margaret studied her.
The words had not sounded rehearsed. They sounded personal.
“Did your husband’s mother treat you badly?”
Vanessa’s face went still.
“I’ve never been married.”
“I was asking about your mother.”
Vanessa looked away.
“My father’s family hated her.”
“Why?”
“Because she wasn’t rich enough for them.”
Margaret remembered Celeste’s designer clothes, private club membership, and habit of discussing money as though poverty were contagious.
“That must have been difficult.”
“It taught us not to wait for approval.”
Margaret stepped closer.
“Is that why you entered Robert’s study?”
Vanessa’s hand tightened around her wineglass.
“I didn’t.”
“The soil on your shoe came from beneath the window.”
“There’s soil everywhere outside.”
“Not that color.”
Vanessa put down the glass.
“You’re accusing me because you want Daniel to choose between us.”
“No. I’m asking a question you could answer by telling the truth.”
Vanessa’s voice dropped.
“You should be careful with accusations.”
“Is that a warning?”
“It’s advice.”
Daniel entered the kitchen before Margaret could respond.
“The window is secure,” he said. “Owen thinks whoever entered used a key.”
Vanessa looked surprised.
Too surprised.
Daniel continued.
“Mom, do you know who has copies?”
“Only Owen and me.”
“And Dad’s old key?”
Margaret looked toward the hallway.
Robert’s keys had been stored in a carved wooden box in the bedroom closet.
She had not opened it in years.
They went upstairs together.
The box was still on the top shelf.
Inside were six keys attached to faded labels.
Garage.
Boat shed.
North gate.
Study.
The study key was missing.
Daniel looked at Margaret.
“Who knew this box existed?”
“Your father. Owen. You.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I haven’t opened it since I was a teenager.”
Vanessa stood in the bedroom doorway.
Margaret looked at her.
“Did Daniel show you this box?”
“No.”
“Did Celeste know Robert?”
Vanessa’s eyes flickered.
It lasted less than a second.
Margaret saw it.
Daniel did too.
“What does your mother have to do with my father?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“You reacted when Mom said her name.”
“I reacted because this is ridiculous.”
Daniel stepped toward her.
“Did your mother know him?”
Vanessa grabbed her purse from the chair.
“We’re leaving.”
“Answer me.”
“She met him once.”
Margaret felt the room tilt beneath her.
“When?”
Vanessa looked at Daniel, not Margaret.
“Years ago.”
“How many years?”
“I don’t know.”
Margaret’s voice became quiet.
“Was it before Robert died?”
Vanessa walked into the hallway.
Daniel followed.
“Vanessa.”
She reached the stairs, stopped, and turned around.
“My mother worked for Northstar Holdings,” she said. “That is all I know.”
Then she descended the stairs and left the house.
May you like
Daniel remained beside Margaret.
Neither of them spoke until they heard the white car speeding down the driveway.
