Chapter 3 - The Phone That Should Not Exist
Maren let the black phone slide from her palm.
It fell between the cushion and the right side of her wheelchair.
Reed crossed the room in three strides.
“What was that?”
“My lipstick.”
“That was not lipstick.”
He reached toward the chair.
Maren caught his wrist.
For an instant, neither of them moved.
Reed looked down at her fingers wrapped around him.
She had gripped him harder than he expected.
“You’re hurting me,” he said.
“So are you.”
His eyes narrowed.
Behind him, Lila stood near the wardrobe, barely breathing.
Reed pulled his wrist free and crouched beside the wheelchair. He pushed his hand into the gap between the cushion and metal frame.
The phone was gone.
Maren kept her expression neutral.
Before he entered, she had activated the spring panel beneath the seat. The device had dropped into a narrow compartment her father’s engineers had designed for valuables.
Reed searched again.
“Where is it?”
“Where is what?”
He lifted the cushion.
Nothing.
Maren smiled faintly.
“Perhaps grief is affecting your vision.”
His jaw tightened.
Then he looked toward Lila.
“Leave us.”
Lila did not move.
“Now.”
She hurried to the door.
Reed caught her arm as she passed.
“Did Mrs. Halston make any calls?”
“No, sir.”
“Did she show you a phone?”
“No.”
He studied her face.
Lila’s fear made the lie convincing.
Reed released her.
“Go.”
After she left, he locked the door.
Maren watched him.
“Is that necessary?”
“I’m tired of games.”
“You should stop playing them.”
Reed walked toward the window and drew the curtains closed again.
The bedroom dimmed.
“When your father died,” he said, “I made him a promise.”
Maren laughed softly.
“You hated my father.”
“I respected him.”
“You called him a controlling tyrant.”
“He was.”
“And yet you promised him something?”
Reed turned.
“To take care of you.”
“Is that what you call forging medical documents?”
His expression did not change.
“Be careful.”
“Or what?”
“People already believe you’re unstable.”
“People you paid.”
“People who have watched you deteriorate.”
Maren leaned back in the chair.
“Tell me about Evelyn.”
The name landed between them.
Reed’s eyes flickered.
Only once.
But she saw it.
“Who?”
“Evelyn.”
“I don’t know anyone named Evelyn.”
“You answer too quickly when you lie.”
“And you create mysteries when you’re afraid.”
“What hospital was she in?”
Reed approached.
“Stop.”
“What fire did she supposedly die in?”
His hand struck the armrest beside hers.
The sound echoed through the room.
Maren did not flinch.
Reed bent until his face was inches from hers.
“You found something in this house,” he said. “You are going to tell me what it was.”
“Did my father leave you instructions for this part too?”
Reed straightened.
“Your father left instructions for everything.”
“Including my death?”
Silence.
Outside the bedroom, a grandfather clock chimed ten times.
Reed looked at her for a long moment.
Then the softness returned to his face with terrifying ease.
“No one wants you dead.”
“Then why are you waiting seven minutes before calling an ambulance?”
The mask cracked.
Not completely.
But enough.
He stepped backward.
Maren knew she had gone too far.
He knew she had heard the recording.
Reed moved toward the door.
“Where is it?”
She said nothing.
“The recorder. The file. Whatever you found.”
“Maybe Celeste has it.”
He laughed once.
“My mother would burn this house before allowing evidence to remain inside it.”
“Then perhaps you should smell the smoke.”
Reed unlocked the door.
He looked back at her.
“You think you understand what is happening.”
“I understand you replaced my injector.”
His hand paused on the knob.
Maren continued.
“I understand Dr. Kline has been giving me medication that suppresses nerve function. I understand you filed for guardianship using evaluations I never consented to. And I understand that if I die before Monday, you inherit voting control of Vale Meridian.”
Reed opened the door.
“But?”
“But you still haven’t told me why my death has anything to do with a baby who supposedly died thirty-two years ago.”
For the first time, Reed looked frightened.
Not angry.
Frightened.
He stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind him.
Maren immediately opened the hidden compartment.
The black phone displayed six missed calls from the unknown number.
Before she could return them, the screen lit up.
INCOMING CALL.
She answered.
“You told him too much,” the woman said.
“You told him the plan.”
“I told him the version he needed to believe.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Reed was never the architect.”
“Celeste?”
“No.”
“Dr. Kline?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
The woman’s breathing changed.
“Look at the fourth photograph on the staircase.”
Maren turned toward the door, as if she could see through it.
“What am I looking for?”
“The man standing behind your father.”
“I’ve seen that photograph a thousand times.”
“No. You’ve seen the version Celeste allowed you to see.”
“What version?”
“The original was altered.”
Maren closed her eyes.
“Tell me your name.”
“Not yet.”
“You called me your daughter.”
The line became silent.
Maren heard faint background noise.
Rain.
A vehicle engine.
Several voices.
“You said Reed followed a plan you taught him,” Maren continued. “You knew about the seven minutes. You knew about the injector. Either you are saving me or you are using me.”
“Both can be true.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only honest answer I can give.”
Maren’s grip tightened.
“Are you my mother?”
The woman inhaled sharply.
Then a man spoke somewhere near her.
“We have movement at the south gate.”
The woman returned to the call.
“Maren, listen carefully. At dinner, Reed will offer you wine. Refuse it. Celeste will become angry. Let her. The allergen will not be in the food.”
“Then where?”
“On the rim of the emergency injector.”
Maren’s blood chilled.
“If I use it…”
“You will make the reaction worse.”
“So how am I supposed to survive?”
“There is a second injector inside the underside of the table.”
“Beside the button?”
“Yes.”
“You placed it there?”
“Your father did.”
“How long ago?”
“Before Reed bought the mansion.”
Maren looked around the room.
The Halstons believed the estate belonged to them.
But her father had built secrets into its walls years before Reed entered her life.
“Who is the man in the photograph?” she asked.
The woman did not answer directly.
“He is the reason Celeste needed you alive for thirty-two years.”
“I thought she wanted me dead.”
“She does now.”
“What changed?”
“You remembered the staircase.”
Maren frowned.
“I don’t remember anything.”
“You will.”
The call ended.
Maren sat motionless.
Then she heard Celeste speaking in the hallway.
“Find the maid.”
A security guard answered, “We’ve checked the kitchen and staff quarters.”
“The west wing?”
“Locked.”
“Break it open.”
Maren looked at the clock.
May you like
Lila was inside the west wing with the evidence bag.
And Reed had just ordered the mansion sealed.
