Chapter 5 - the woman at Martha's door
Vanessa smiled when Martha reached the top of the stairs.
"I was looking for you."
Martha stopped ten feet away.
"For what?"
"The seating plan."
"It is in the office."
"I thought you might have a copy."
"No."
Vanessa glanced at Martha's bedroom door.
"Do you always lock your room?"
"Yes."
"Interesting."
"Why?"
Vanessa's eyes returned to Martha.
"No reason."
Martha walked toward her.
Vanessa did not move until Martha was within arm's reach.
Then she stepped aside.
"You seem tense."
"I have a party to organize."
"And yet you spent forty minutes on the phone in your bedroom."
Martha's pulse changed.
Vanessa smiled.
"The walls are old."
"Who I speak with privately is not your concern."
"It will be my house soon."
"That does not make my private conversations your concern."
Vanessa's smile sharpened.
"You have been with this family a long time."
"Twenty-three years."
"Long enough to confuse loyalty with ownership."
Martha unlocked her door.
Before she entered, Vanessa said, "Grace trusted you."
Martha turned.
It was the first time Vanessa had used Grace's name without being prompted.
"Yes."
"Did she tell you everything?"
"No one tells anyone everything."
Vanessa nodded as if pleased by the answer.
"Good."
"Why?"
"Because secrets make people imagine things."
Martha looked at her.
"Sometimes secrets explain things."
The smile vanished.
For a moment Vanessa's face became cold.
Then footsteps sounded below.
Vincent.
Vanessa transformed instantly.
She leaned over the railing.
"There you are."
Vincent looked up.
"Lily asleep?"
"I think so."
Vanessa walked down to meet him.
Martha watched them embrace.
Then she entered her room and locked the door.
Her notebook was where she had left it.
So was the receipt.
But something was wrong.
The drawer beneath her dresser had been opened.
Only an inch.
Martha always closed it completely.
Inside were old photographs.
Birthday cards.
A silver watch.
Nothing important.
Except now there was something new.
A small white envelope.
Martha stared at it for several seconds before touching it.
No name.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
LEAVE THE DEAD ALONE.
Martha's fear became certainty.
Someone knew she was looking.
She photographed the note.
Then she carried the original to Vincent.
This time she would not hesitate.
She found him in the library.
Vanessa was not there.
Martha closed the door.
"Sir, I need you to listen to me without interrupting."
Vincent looked up from his phone.
Her tone made him stand.
"What happened?"
She handed him the note.
He read it.
His expression hardened.
"Where did you get this?"
"My room."
"When?"
"Ten minutes ago."
"Who was inside?"
"I don't know."
"Vanessa?"
"I saw her outside my door."
Vincent's jaw tightened.
"Martha."
"I also spoke to Evelyn Shaw."
That surprised him.
"Grace's Evelyn?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Martha told him.
Not everything.
Not yet.
But enough.
Vanessa's connection to the foundation.
Julian Cole.
The missing money.
Grace's fear.
The call from Vanessa after Grace died.
Vincent listened without moving.
When Martha finished, he looked down at the note.
"This is impossible."
"I hope so."
"Vanessa didn't know Grace."
"Apparently she did."
"Indirectly."
"Yes."
"Julian worked with dozens of foundation vendors."
"Yes."
"And Grace never told me any of this."
"She intended to."
"How do you know?"
"Evelyn said so."
Vincent walked away.
He stopped by the fireplace.
For several seconds Martha saw anger.
Then grief.
Then something worse.
Doubt.
Not about Vanessa.
About himself.
"If Grace thought she was in danger, why wouldn't she tell me?"
Martha answered carefully.
"Perhaps she was trying to protect you."
"From what?"
"I don't know."
He turned.
"Did she think I couldn't handle it?"
"That is not what I said."
"I was her husband."
"I know."
"She called me the night she died."
Martha's eyes softened.
"I know."
"I didn't answer."
"That was not your fault."
Vincent looked away.
Martha let the silence remain.
Finally he said, "Where is Lily?"
"Sleeping."
"Where is Vanessa?"
"Downstairs."
Vincent picked up his phone.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling security."
Martha stepped forward.
"Wait."
He stared at her.
"If Vanessa is involved in something larger, frightening her now may cause her to destroy evidence."
"You want me to leave her in this house with my daughter?"
"No."
Martha's answer was immediate.
"I want Lily protected."
Vincent's face became colder.
"She will be."
He called the head of security.
No accusations.
No explanation.
He ordered two additional guards near Lily's rooms and told them she was never to be left alone with anyone except him or Martha.
Then he called his attorney, Edward Hale.
Edward had represented the Moretti family for twenty-seven years.
Vincent told him to quietly review every legal document prepared since his engagement to Vanessa.
Every trust.
Every insurance policy.
Every guardianship clause.
Every authorization.
"And Edward?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell anyone."
"Anyone?"
"Anyone."
After the call, Vincent looked at Martha.
"You said there was something about a blue box."
Martha nodded.
"Lily mentioned one."
"What box?"
"I don't know."
"Grace?"
"I believe so."
Vincent rubbed his face.
"I remember a blue jewelry case."
"Was it metal?"
"No. Velvet."
"Did Grace have another?"
"I don't remember."
Martha almost showed him the auto repair receipt.
Then Lily screamed upstairs.
Vincent ran before Martha could move.
They reached Lily's bedroom.
The child was standing on the mattress, crying.
Vanessa stood near the doorway.
"What happened?" Vincent demanded.
Vanessa looked shocked.
"I heard her scream. I came in."
Vincent lifted Lily into his arms.
She buried her face against him.
"What is it?"
Lily pointed toward the wall beside her bed.
There, scratched into the pale paint, were four words.
WHERE IS THE BLUE BOX?
Vincent's face changed.
Vanessa stared at the message.
Martha watched her.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
"Oh my God."
Vincent looked at her.
"You were the first person in here?"
Vanessa lowered her hand.
"Yes."
"How long?"
"What?"
"How long were you in this room before we arrived?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"Vincent."
"Answer me."
"Maybe thirty seconds."
Lily whispered against his shoulder.
"No."
The room went silent.
Vincent looked at his daughter.
May you like
Lily was staring at Vanessa.
"She was already here when I woke up."
