Chapter 3 - THE SILVER WATCH
Vanessa’s champagne gown seemed to lose its shimmer as she stared at the photograph inside the silver watch.
I stepped closer, looking over her shoulder.
The picture was old and faded, showing a beautiful woman with striking green eyes—eyes identical to Vanessa’s. She was standing in front of our original garage, leaning against this very Thunderbird.
“That’s Evelyn,” Robert said, his voice completely hollow.
I remembered Evelyn. She was a wealthy local investor who had briefly partnered with us twenty years ago, before vanishing overnight. Robert had always claimed she took her money and abandoned her family to move to Europe.
“You told me my mother abandoned me,” Vanessa’s voice shook with sudden fury. “You hired me eighteen months ago, played the mentor, then the lover, and you never once mentioned you knew her!”
Answer one: Robert hadn't hired Vanessa because of her marketing skills, or even just for an affair. He had sought her out.
But why?
Robert held up his hands defensively. “Vanessa, sweetheart, listen to me. Your mother gave me that watch before she left. She wanted me to look out for you. I was just honoring her wish!”
“By sleeping with me?!” Vanessa screamed, the sound echoing across the silent ballroom.
I felt a sickening twist in my stomach. The puzzle pieces were slamming together, but the picture they formed was terrifying.
I looked at the ledger still in my hands. If my mother owned the company, and Robert was bankrupt fifteen years ago, how did he afford the massive expansion that made us millionaires?
“He didn’t use my mother’s money,” I realized aloud. “He used Evelyn’s.”
Robert’s eyes darted toward the ballroom exits. “Caroline, stop. You’re upset.”
“Did you steal from her, Robert?” I demanded. “Is that why she left?”
“She didn't leave because she was robbed,” a small voice said.
We all turned to Lily.
My thirteen-year-old daughter was holding the blue envelope again. She tipped it upside down. A tiny, handwritten note fell into her palm.
“Grandma wrote something else on the back of the letter,” Lily said softly.
She looked at me, her eyes wide with a fear I had never seen in her before.
“Read it, Lily,” I encouraged her, squeezing her shoulder.
“It says, ‘If Robert tries to claim Evelyn ran away, tell Caroline to check the lining of my old winter coat.’”
I froze.
My mother’s old winter coat. The heavy, wool houndstooth one she wore every single day during the harsh Chicago winters. I had brought it with me tonight because the hotel AC was always freezing, and I liked having her scent nearby. I had checked it at the front cloakroom.
“Caroline, don’t,” Robert warned, taking a step toward me. His polished, handsome face had dissolved into sheer panic.
“Vanessa,” I said, not taking my eyes off my husband. “Watch him. If he tries to leave, scream.”
I grabbed Lily’s hand and practically ran off the stage, sprinting through the lobby toward the cloakroom.
I shoved my ticket at the attendant, grabbed the heavy wool coat, and laid it across a lobby armchair.
My hands frantically searched the silk lining until I felt a hard lump near the bottom hem.
I ripped the ancient seam open.
Something heavy and metallic fell into my hand.
It was a heavy silver charm bracelet.
But it wasn't the metal that made me drop to my knees in the hotel lobby.
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It was the dark, rust-colored stains dried deep into the silver links.
Blood.
