Chapter 9 - Victoria’s Dead Mother
Catherine Whitmore had not died twelve years ago.
Not legally.
Not medically.
Not anywhere Nathan’s investigators could find.
There was no death certificate.
No cemetery record.
No hospital declaration.
Only society announcements saying Catherine had “passed after a private illness.”
Victoria had been nineteen.
Charles told everyone his wife died overseas.
Nobody questioned him.
Rich families were good at turning privacy into a wall.
Grace looked at Nathan.
“He lied to his own daughter about her mother dying.”
Nathan nodded.
“That explains the music box.”
Victoria’s penthouse had been released to investigators.
Inside her bedroom closet, they found the antique music box.
Beneath the velvet lining sat a memory card.
One voicemail.
Richard Cole speaking to Charles.
“Charles, I know Marcus contacted Maddox.”
“I know the inspection was canceled.”
“If anything happens to me tomorrow, Catherine has copies.”
Nathan stopped the recording.
Grace whispered.
“Catherine was helping him.”
Nathan restarted.
Richard continued.
“And leave Grace Bennett alone.”
Grace stiffened.
The voicemail dated eleven years ago.
Years before she and Nathan dated.
Richard said.
“Margaret never forgot what Helen Bennett did for her.”
“If Nathan ever crosses paths with that family, you do not interfere.”
Nathan stared at Grace.
“Who is Helen?”
Grace whispered.
“My grandmother.”
Richard continued.
“She kept Margaret alive during treatment when every private nurse we hired quit.”
“I owe her family.”
“Do not turn them into another problem to manage.”
The recording ended.
Grace sat.
“My grandmother worked private nursing.”
Nathan remembered his mother’s cancer treatments.
The woman who stayed nights.
A gentle nurse with gray-streaked hair.
He had been young.
Could barely remember.
Grace pulled up an old photograph.
Helen Bennett.
Nathan stared.
“I know her.”
Grace looked at him.
“My mother loved her.”
The connection was not destiny.
Not some secret arrangement.
Only history.
A debt of kindness Charles ignored.
Grace laughed sadly.
“So your father literally told him to leave my family alone.”
“Yes.”
“And Charles did the exact opposite.”
“Yes.”
Grace shook her head.
“Your family is exhausting.”
Nathan almost smiled.
Then Eli entered.
“We located Catherine.”
Both turned.
“Where?”
“Psychiatric care facility in Vermont.”
Grace’s expression hardened.
“Of course.”
Nathan understood.
A woman who knew too much.
Declared unstable.
Hidden.
Just like the psychiatric report prepared against Grace.
They drove there.
Catherine Whitmore was sixty-eight.
Elegant even in plain clothes.
When Nathan said Victoria’s name, she dropped her cup.
“My daughter is alive?”
Nathan stared.
“She thinks you’re dead.”
Catherine began to cry.
Charles had told Catherine Victoria wanted no contact.
He had told Victoria Catherine died.
Two women separated by one man’s lies for twelve years.
Grace watched.
The pattern was painfully familiar.
Catherine explained.
She had discovered Charles and Marcus discussing Richard’s aircraft.
She threatened to go to authorities.
Charles used her prior history of postpartum depression and anxiety to convince doctors she was unstable.
He isolated her.
Transferred facilities.
Controlled visitation.
Then told society she died.
Grace asked.
“Why didn’t you leave?”
Catherine looked at her.
“I tried.”
“People think wealthy women can always leave.”
“But wealth controlled by someone else is just another locked door.”
Grace understood more than she wanted to.
Catherine had escaped temporary guardianship six months ago.
Since then she had hired someone to watch Grace.
Nathan’s expression changed.
“Who?”
Catherine hesitated.
“Rachel Simmons.”
Grace went white.
“My friend Rachel?”
“The woman who watches Lily?”
Catherine nodded.
“I paid her.”
Grace stood.
“No.”
“She was supposed to protect you.”
“She reported cars following Lily.”
“She told me when Grace joined Nathan’s household staff.”
Grace shook her head.
“Rachel knew?”
“She did.”
Grace walked out.
Nathan followed.
Outside, Grace leaned against the wall.
“My closest friend.”
“She lied.”
“Yes.”
“You knew nothing.”
Nathan stopped.
Grace looked at him.
“That was not an accusation.”
“I know.”
“She helped me when Lily was born.”
“She gave me money.”
“She watched Lily when I worked nights.”
Nathan said.
“Maybe those parts were real.”
Grace laughed bitterly.
“Is that supposed to help?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Nathan remained beside her.
He did not touch her.
Did not fix.
Did not explain.
After a minute Grace said.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not telling me what to feel.”
Nathan nodded.
They returned to Catherine.
“Where is Victoria?”
Nathan asked.
Catherine’s face changed.
“She came to see me yesterday.”
Nathan froze.
“She found you.”
“Yes.”
“She cried for an hour.”
“Then what?”
“I gave her a recording Richard left.”
“What recording?”
Catherine looked afraid.
“The conversation where Charles admits he knew Marcus sabotaged the aircraft.”
Nathan stopped breathing.
“Victoria took it?”
“Yes.”
“She said she would make her father confess.”
Grace whispered.
“That’s where she went.”
Catherine nodded.
“Whitmore Farm.”
Nathan’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Victoria’s voice.
Barely audible.
“Nathan.”
“Where are you?”
“My father has me.”
Grace closed her eyes.
Nathan said.
“Victoria, listen.”
“Where?”
“Barn.”
“Farm.”
Then Charles’s voice came through.
“Nathan.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
“What did you do?”
“What I should have done years ago.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m ending this before my daughter destroys what remains of our family.”
Grace stared.
Nathan answered.
“You already destroyed your family.”
Charles laughed.
“Bring the ledger.”
“No.”
“Then Victoria dies with the recording.”
The line disconnected.
Catherine covered her mouth.
“My daughter.”
Grace looked at Nathan.
No hesitation.
“We go.”
Nathan stared at her.
“You don’t owe Victoria anything.”
“No.”
Grace’s voice became firm.
“But Lily will someday ask me what I did when a woman who hurt us was about to be killed by the man who taught her to hurt us.”
Nathan understood.
May you like
Grace continued.
“I want to like my answer.”
