Chapter 8 - The Voice in the Recording)
Security searched the estate.
Nobody was found.
No footprints.
No broken gates.
No missing staff.
Grace's old phone contained no fingerprints except Noah's after he touched it.
Margaret arrived before sunrise.
"This is impossible."
"No," Noah said. "It's staged."
Eleanor looked at him.
"Why?"
"Someone wants us to think Mom is alive."
Nobody spoke.
Noah hated saying it.
He wanted Grace alive more than anything.
That was exactly why he refused to believe too quickly.
"Who knew those initials?"
Eleanor answered.
"Family. Staff. Friends."
"Marcus?"
"Yes."
"Adrian?"
"Yes."
"Vanessa's father?"
"Yes."
Margaret studied the desk.
"Then the message proves nothing."
Noah looked at the phone.
"Maybe not."
He opened the audio files.
One recording existed.
Duration: eleven seconds.
He pressed play.
Static.
Then a woman's voice.
"Noah, if you hear this, don't trust the one who brings you home."
The recording ended.
Noah stopped breathing.
It was Grace's voice.
He knew it immediately.
Eleanor sat down.
Margaret whispered, "My God."
Noah replayed it.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The one who brings you home.
Who had brought him to the mansion?
Eleanor's driver.
Margaret?
Claire?
Eleanor herself?
Or did "home" mean something else?
Noah turned to his grandmother.
"Do you still think Mom died?"
Eleanor looked at the phone.
"I never said I did."
That morning, Detective Torres returned.
Richard Carlisle was still missing.
But there was new evidence.
The blood in his car was his.
The quantity was not necessarily fatal.
His phone was found beneath the driver's seat.
On it was an unsent draft message addressed to Vanessa.
It read:
I should have told you the truth about Grace.
Vanessa read the message twice.
"What truth?"
Torres asked the same question.
Vanessa had none.
For the first time since the ballroom incident, her arrogance vanished completely.
She went to the Vale mansion.
Eleanor initially refused to see her.
Noah intervened.
"Let her in."
Vanessa entered wearing dark glasses.
No makeup.
No red dress.
She looked younger.
Less dangerous.
Noah's bandaged hand rested on the table.
Vanessa noticed.
"I'm sorry."
He stared.
"Are you?"
She swallowed.
"I behaved terribly."
"You tortured a kid because you thought he was poor."
"I know."
"No. You knew then too."
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
Noah felt no satisfaction.
"Why are you here?"
"My father knew your mother."
"So I've heard."
"He left a message saying he should have told me the truth about Grace."
"And you want us to tell you what he meant."
"Yes."
Eleanor watched Vanessa.
"Did Richard ever mention Lake Ashcroft?"
Vanessa's face changed.
Noah saw it.
"Yes."
"When?"
"When I was twelve."
"What did he say?"
Vanessa sat.
"He used to have nightmares."
"About the lake?"
"About a woman."
Noah leaned forward.
"What woman?"
"He never said her name."
"Describe her."
"Dark hair. Young."
Noah's chest tightened.
"My mother."
Vanessa shook her head quickly.
"I don't know."
"What did he say in the nightmares?"
She closed her eyes, remembering.
"He would say, 'I didn't know she was inside.'"
Silence.
Noah felt cold.
"Inside what?"
"I never knew."
Eleanor stood.
"Lake Ashcroft had an old boathouse."
Vanessa looked at her.
"My father also hated fire."
Eleanor froze.
"What?"
"He couldn't light a fireplace. Couldn't go near bonfires."
Noah looked between them.
"Was there a fire at Lake Ashcroft?"
Eleanor's face turned pale.
"Not in the official report."
Noah's phone buzzed.
Another unknown number.
This time there was a photograph.
The old boathouse at Lake Ashcroft.
Taken recently.
Snow covered the ground.
The building looked abandoned.
May you like
A second message appeared.
IF YOU WANT YOUR MOTHER'S ANSWERS, COME BEFORE THEY BURN THEM AGAIN.
