Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW THE DEAD
Amelia brought the photograph to Nathaniel.
He recognized the symbol immediately.
“Where did you get this?”
“Cassandra.”
Nathaniel examined the writing on the back.
“Project Orpheus was a covert supply program.”
“Blackwood weapons moved through Hart Meridian ships?”
“That is what the intelligence reports alleged.”
“Alleged?”
“The investigation was buried.”
“By your family?”
“Possibly.”
Amelia watched him.
“Your answers keep becoming less certain.”
“My family has spent decades hiding its crimes from itself.”
“That is convenient.”
Nathaniel set down the photograph.
“You have every right to question me.”
“I do not want the right. I want the truth.”
“So do I.”
“Your uncle witnessed my father’s trust. Your company’s weapons were in my mother’s investigation. My father looked at you as though you were part of the attack.”
Nathaniel’s jaw tightened.
“And you think I knew.”
“I think you may know more than you have told me.”
He walked toward the window.
For several seconds, his back remained toward her.
Then he said, “My father ordered me to watch you.”
Amelia went still.
“When?”
“During our first deployment.”
The words cut deeper than any accusation.
“Why?”
“He believed you might possess information from your mother.”
“I was a lieutenant carrying a rifle through a desert.”
“You were Helen Hart’s daughter.”
“And you followed his orders.”
“At first.”
“How long?”
“Three weeks.”
Amelia laughed once, without humor.
“Our first conversations were surveillance.”
“Yes.”
“The convoy route?”
“Real.”
“The hospital?”
“Real.”
“The proposal?”
“Real.”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“You cannot. Not immediately.”
She looked at the marriage ring beneath her collar.
Nathaniel turned back toward her.
“My father gave me your file. He wanted reports on your communications and contacts. I stopped sending them after the ambush.”
“Why?”
“Because I learned there was nothing calculated about you.”
“How noble.”
“No. It was late.”
Amelia’s face hardened.
“Did you tell your father about the burned envelope?”
“No.”
“My letters?”
“No.”
“My suspicion of Cassandra?”
“No.”
“Did he know we married?”
“Yes.”
“Before Theodore?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes briefly.
Another secret.
Another person deciding what she should know.
“Leave,” she said.
Nathaniel did not move.
“Amelia.”
“Leave before I say something I cannot take back.”
He picked up his coat.
At the door, he stopped.
“My father died believing Project Orpheus had ended. Victor knew it had not.”
Amelia said nothing.
“If Cassandra is working with Victor, she is not avenging her father. She is helping the man most likely responsible for his death.”
Nathaniel left.
Amelia spent the night alone.
In the morning, she received a message from an unknown number.
Your mother left something for you.
Come alone.
The message included an address.
It led to a small house near the coast.
Amelia arrived shortly before noon.
An elderly woman opened the door.
Her name was Margaret Quinn.
Amelia recognized her as one of the nurses who had attended her mother during the final year of her life.
“You have Helen’s eyes,” Margaret said.
“You contacted me?”
“I should have done it years ago.”
The house contained stacks of newspapers, medical books, and boxes marked with dates. Margaret led Amelia to a sitting room overlooking the sea.
“Your mother knew someone was following her,” Margaret said. “She asked me to protect a package.”
“Where is it?”
“I gave it to your father after the crash.”
Amelia’s hope collapsed.
“Then why contact me?”
“Because Theodore did not receive everything.”
Margaret opened a drawer and removed a small cassette tape.
“I kept this.”
Amelia stared at it.
“What is on it?”
“Your mother’s last recorded message.”
They used an old cassette player.
Static filled the room.
Then Helen Hart’s voice emerged.
Amelia had not heard it in eighteen years.
Her hands began to tremble.
Helen spoke calmly.
If you are listening to this, Theodore may already believe Victor Blackwood caused the accidents.
He is wrong.
Victor is dangerous, but he is not the architect.
Project Orpheus was created by someone inside Hart Meridian.
Someone Theodore trusted more than anyone.
Amelia leaned closer.
Helen continued.
Adrian Vale discovered the shipments. He tried to warn us. Before he died, he gave me a list of names.
The tape crackled.
I hid the list where only Amelia would think to look.
She paused.
My little soldier always buried treasure beneath the angel who had no wings.
Amelia’s breath caught.
When she was a child, she had played in the old family cemetery behind Hart Manor. One weathered statue showed an angel missing both stone wings.
She used to hide coins beneath it.
Helen’s voice continued.
Do not trust the person who says blood makes a family.
Family is the person who refuses to use your love as a weapon.
The recording ended.
Margaret wiped her eyes.
Amelia stood.
“Did anyone else know about this tape?”
“One person.”
“Who?”
Margaret looked toward the window.
“Theodore’s younger brother.”
Amelia stared at her.
“My father did not have a brother.”
Margaret’s expression filled with pity.
“Yes,” she said. “He did.”
A shot shattered the window.
Margaret fell backward.
Amelia dropped to the floor as a second bullet struck the wall.
She crawled toward the injured woman.
Blood spread across Margaret’s blouse.
Outside, an engine roared.
Amelia reached the window in time to see a motorcycle disappear along the coastal road.
Margaret gripped her hand.
“The angel,” she whispered. “Go before they move it.”
Then her fingers loosened.
On the floor beside her lay a small photograph that had fallen from her pocket.
It showed Theodore as a young man beside another man with the same eyes.
May you like
On the back, one name had been written.
Sebastian Hart.
