Chapter 9 - The Enemy Inside the Family
Jonathan read the message three times.
Then he handed the phone to Detective Mercer.
She examined the number.
“Don't respond.”
He stared at her.
“What if they're telling the truth?”
“Then we'll verify it.”
“What if Celeste was trying to protect my mother?”
Maria spoke from beside the window.
“She put something on that cake.”
“I know.”
“You saw it.”
“I know.”
Jonathan turned toward her.
“But the person who sent this message wants me to believe there is more.”
Maria stared at him.
“Celeste has had months to tell the truth.”
He had no answer.
Mercer arranged a secure video interview with Margaret Reed.
Meanwhile, Bell was taken to a separate room for a recorded statement.
Before leaving, he looked at Maria.
“Your brother never stopped fighting.”
Maria said nothing.
“He knew exactly what Meridian was doing.”
She stared at him.
“And you let them kill him.”
Bell lowered his head.
“Yes.”
For the first time that night, he did not make an excuse.
Maria turned away.
Jonathan approached her.
“Are you all right?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“I shouldn't have asked.”
Maria looked toward Evelyn.
“Your mother needs to rest.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I've rested enough.”
“Mrs. Whitmore—”
“No.”
Her voice grew stronger.
“For eight months, people have told me to lie down.”
“They've told me to stop worrying.”
“They've told me to let younger people handle things.”
She looked at Jonathan.
“And while I was sleeping, somebody tried to steal everything Arthur and I built.”
Jonathan lowered his eyes.
Evelyn continued.
“I don't intend to sleep through the rest of it.”
A faint smile touched Maria's face.
“Then perhaps we should get you something to eat.”
Jonathan looked toward the ballroom.
Maria followed his gaze.
“Not cake.”
For the first time all night, Evelyn laughed.
The sound was small.
But it was real.
Twenty minutes later, Mercer returned.
“The number that sent your message was routed through a disposable service.”
“Can you trace it?”
“We're working on it.”
She looked toward Jonathan.
“But we found something interesting in David Harrow's financial records.”
“What?”
“Three shell companies received payments from the hospital's research division.”
“Who controlled them?”
“On paper, different people.”
“And in reality?”
Mercer hesitated.
“We suspect Harrow.”
Jonathan clenched his jaw.
“David was my best friend.”
Mercer looked at him.
“That made him useful.”
The words hurt because they were true.
David had been present for almost every important event in Jonathan's adult life.
His first wedding.
Arthur's funeral.
Rebecca's funeral.
His second wedding.
When Jonathan struggled with grief, David visited every Friday.
He brought dinner.
He listened.
He told Jonathan that Celeste was one of the few people who understood what he was going through.
Jonathan remembered something.
“David insisted Celeste come with us to Rebecca's memorial service.”
Mercer looked up.
“Why?”
“He said she needed closure.”
Jonathan swallowed.
“I thought it was compassionate.”
Maria turned.
“Did Celeste and Rebecca ever argue?”
Jonathan frowned.
“Not that I remember.”
“Think carefully.”
He closed his eyes.
Then the memory returned.
Three weeks before Rebecca died, Celeste had come to their apartment.
Jonathan was leaving for a meeting.
He heard raised voices from the kitchen.
Rebecca said, “You cannot keep defending him.”
Celeste replied, “You don't understand what you're threatening.”
When Jonathan entered, both women stopped.
Celeste claimed they were arguing about hospital fundraising.
He believed her.
Now he stared at Mercer.
“Rebecca was arguing with Celeste.”
“About Harrow?”
“Maybe.”
Maria's phone vibrated.
The officers had recovered it from a drainage grate near the ballroom's service entrance.
Its screen was cracked.
But the video was still intact.
A technician had made a forensic copy.
Maria watched the detective review the recording.
Celeste approached the cake.
She checked the room.
She removed the bottle.
She poured the liquid.
Then she smoothed the frosting.
Mercer paused the footage.
“What's that?”
Maria leaned closer.
Celeste's left hand was partially hidden by the cake.
Something glinted beneath her fingers.
“A ring?” Jonathan asked.
Mercer zoomed in.
It wasn't a ring.
It was a narrow bracelet with a small silver charm.
Maria stared.
“I've seen that.”
“Where?”
“Claire wears one.”
Jonathan frowned.
“The nurse?”
Maria nodded.
“Her daughters gave it to her.”
Mercer studied the footage.
“Celeste appears to be holding it.”
Jonathan whispered, “Why?”
Maria thought about Claire's kidnapping.
The two little girls.
The threats.
The cake.
Then she suddenly understood.
“It's a message.”
Mercer turned.
“What?”
“Someone made Celeste wear or carry Claire's bracelet.”
Jonathan frowned.
“Why would that matter?”
“Because Claire was being threatened.”
Maria looked toward the screen.
“What if Celeste was being threatened too?”
Evelyn stared at her.
“Then why accuse Maria?” Jonathan asked.
Maria had no answer.
Mercer resumed the recording.
Celeste returned the bottle to her bag.
As she turned, the image briefly captured her reflection in a large silver serving tray.
Something white was tucked into the back of her dress.
A folded piece of paper.
Mercer froze the frame.
Jonathan leaned closer.
“What is that?”
Maria stared.
Celeste had been moving stiffly when she greeted guests earlier.
Maria remembered thinking her expensive gown was uncomfortable.
Now she wondered whether something had been concealed beneath the fabric.
Mercer magnified the reflection.
There were handwritten letters on the paper.
Only three were visible.
RUN.
Jonathan stared.
“Could be part of a longer word.”
Mercer nodded.
“We can't assume its meaning.”
But Maria knew something else.
Celeste had brushed against her in the hallway before the party.
She had leaned close.
And whispered, “You're making a mistake.”
Maria thought she was threatening her.
Now she remembered Celeste's eyes.
They had been wet.
“Jonathan,” Maria said slowly.
He turned.
“Before the party, Celeste stopped me.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me I was making a mistake.”
“About what?”
“I don't know.”
Maria swallowed.
“But she touched my hand.”
Jonathan frowned.
“Why?”
“I thought she wanted to frighten me.”
Maria looked toward her uniform pocket.
The garment had been collected as evidence.
But she remembered feeling something stiff against her palm.
She had been so frightened that she forgot.
“Detective.”
Mercer looked at her.
“I think Celeste gave me something.”
“What?”
“A folded paper.”
Maria's voice trembled.
“I think it's still in my apron.”
Mercer immediately called the evidence officer.
The apron was brought upstairs in a sealed bag.
A small folded note was recovered from the inner pocket.
The handwriting was hurried.
The message contained only eight words.
IF I DISAPPEAR, LOOK UNDER REBECCA'S GRAVE.
Jonathan stared at the paper.
His voice came out barely above a whisper.
“Celeste knew about Rebecca.”
Maria looked at him.
“Maybe she knew everything.”
Mercer folded the note into an evidence sleeve.
Jonathan reached for his coat.
“I'm going to the cemetery.”
Mercer stopped him.
“Not alone.”
He looked at her.
“Then come with me.”
Evelyn raised her hand.
“Jonathan.”
He turned.
His mother stared directly into his eyes.
“If Celeste knew what happened to Rebecca, don't assume she was trying to save her.”
Jonathan swallowed.
“Why?”
Evelyn's expression was filled with sorrow.
“Because guilty people can become frightened too.”
And somewhere across the city, inside a locked room with no windows, Celeste Whitmore sat bound to a chair.
A man placed a photograph of Rebecca Shaw on the table.
Celeste looked at it.
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
The man smiled.
“Your husband is finally asking the right questions.”
Celeste lifted her head.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“Leave Evelyn alone.”
The man leaned forward.
“Then tell me where Rebecca hid the original files.”
Celeste shook her head.
“I don't know.”
He sighed.
“That's unfortunate.”
He placed a second photograph beside the first.
It showed Jonathan leaving the mansion with Detective Mercer.
Celeste's face drained.
The man tapped the photograph.
“You have one more chance.”
May you like
Then David Harrow sat down across from her.
“Tell me what the maid knows.”
