Chapter 11 - What the Cameras Couldn't Prove
By four o'clock that afternoon, Robert Prescott had called three attorneys, contacted two members of the foundation board, and told at least six relatives that I'd threatened the family.
I knew because people started calling Spencer.
Then they started calling me.
My phone rang so often that Dana finally took it from my hand and placed it face down on the sofa.
"You're not answering another call."
I sat beside the window.
"Some of them might be friends."
"Then they'll leave messages."
She folded her arms.
"Right now, everybody wants a piece of a story they don't understand."
I stared at the screen.
There were nineteen missed calls.
Seven texts.
Two voicemails.
One message from an aunt I had met exactly twice.
I hope you understand how much damage you've caused this family.
I read it three times.
Then deleted it.
Dana watched me.
"Good."
I looked up.
"What?"
"Don't spend your wedding day defending yourself to people who weren't even in the room."
I let out a tired laugh.
"Apparently, it's not my wedding day anymore."
Her expression softened.
"Erin."
I shook my head.
"I'm okay."
She raised one eyebrow.
I sighed.
"I'm not okay."
"That's more believable."
I leaned back against the sofa.
For several minutes, we sat in silence.
Then Dana picked up her notebook.
"Let's separate the facts from the accusations."
I looked at her.
"You're doing an after-action review?"
She shrugged.
"Old habits."
Despite everything, I smiled.
Dana had served with me during one of the hardest assignments of my career.
When systems failed, she made lists.
When people panicked, she asked questions.
When emotions overwhelmed everyone else, she identified what could actually be verified.
Right then, I needed that.
She turned to a blank page.
"First."
She looked at me.
"Your uniform was damaged."
"Yes."
"Second, Marjorie entered the suite after receiving instructions from Constance."
"Yes."
"Third, Vivian entered the storage room and later carried the garment bag into your suite."
"Yes."
"Fourth, Vivian copied Constance's handwriting."
I nodded.
"According to Marjorie."
Dana wrote it down.
"Fifth, Robert was involved in discussions about removing your uniform."
"According to Constance and Vivian."
She nodded.
"Good."
Then she stopped.
"Sixth, Robert may have mishandled foundation money."
I looked at the notebook.
"Maybe."
Dana underlined the word.
"Exactly."
She looked up.
"We don't know that yet."
I nodded.
"We have concerns."
"And a woman who says she kept paperwork."
"Yes."
Dana set down the pen.
"That's enough to justify a proper review."
She paused.
"But it's not enough to declare someone guilty."
I breathed out.
"You're right."
She smiled faintly.
"I usually am."
I threw a cushion at her.
She caught it.
For the first time all day, I laughed.
It didn't last long.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, Dana checked the screen.
"Your mother."
I reached for it.
Mom's voice sounded tired.
"Sweetheart, are you still upstairs?"
"Yes."
"Can I come in?"
"Of course."
She entered with a paper bag from the club kitchen and the kind of expression that told me she'd been dealing with other people's nonsense.
She placed the bag on the table.
"Sandwiches."
Dana immediately reached inside.
"You're my favorite person."
Mom smiled.
"I know."
Then she looked at me.
"Erin."
I sat straighter.
"What happened?"
She hesitated.
"Robert spoke to Aunt Paula."
I closed my eyes.
"Of course he did."
"He said you demanded money to keep quiet about Constance."
I stared at her.
"What?"
Mom shook her head.
"Paula told him he was either confused or lying."
I felt my throat tighten.
"She did?"
Mom nodded.
"Then she hung up."
I laughed.
Aunt Paula was seventy-two.
She'd spent forty years teaching high school English.
She had absolutely no patience for wealthy men who mistook volume for authority.
Mom sat beside me.
"But there's something else."
I stopped smiling.
"What?"
"Robert told her your father had been involved in an old military scandal."
The room went silent.
I stared at Mom.
"What?"
She nodded slowly.
"He said you were threatening to expose family secrets connected to Bud's service."
My hands went cold.
"He's using Dad?"
Mom's face hardened.
"Yes."
I stood.
For one moment, anger nearly overwhelmed me.
Robert could attack my career.
He could insult my childhood.
He could spread lies about my wedding.
But bringing my dead father into it was something else.
I reached for my phone.
Dana stepped between me and the table.
"Erin."
I stared at her.
"Move."
"No."
"Dana."
She held my gaze.
"Calling him angry won't help."
My chest rose and fell.
"He doesn't get to talk about Dad."
"I know."
"He doesn't know anything about him."
"I know."
"He wasn't there."
Dana stepped closer.
"Exactly."
I stopped.
She lowered her voice.
"Don't let a man who wasn't there turn your father's service into a public argument."
I stared at her.
Then slowly sat down.
Mom took my hand.
"Your father doesn't need Robert Prescott's approval."
Tears filled my eyes.
"I know."
She squeezed my fingers.
"And neither do you."
That evening, Spencer arrived at the suite carrying two small suitcases.
He had changed into jeans and a gray sweater.
His face looked exhausted.
I stood.
"What's that?"
He set the suitcases beside the door.
"My things."
I frowned.
"From where?"
"Mom's house."
My heart skipped.
Spencer had kept a room at the Prescott family home for years.
Even after buying his own apartment, he stayed there when visiting Savannah.
"Why?"
He took a breath.
"Because I'm not staying there tonight."
I stared at him.
"Spencer."
He shook his head.
"I should've done this a long time ago."
He looked at Mom.
Then at Dana.
"Can I speak with Erin?"
They quietly stepped outside.
When we were alone, Spencer sat beside me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, "I talked to Robert."
I felt my chest tighten.
"What did he say?"
"A lot."
Spencer gave a bitter laugh.
"He called you ambitious."
I looked away.
"He said you wanted the family money."
I closed my eyes.
"He said the uniform was a performance designed to embarrass Mom."
I stared at him.
Spencer swallowed.
"And then he said if I married you, I'd lose everything."
I looked at his face.
"What did you say?"
He was silent for a moment.
Then he answered.
"I asked him what exactly he thought I had to lose."
My eyes filled.
Spencer continued.
"He started listing accounts."
"Property."
"Trust distributions."
"Board positions."
He shook his head.
"Not once did he mention you."
I swallowed.
He looked at me.
"I realized he thinks my life is just a collection of things he can give me or take away."
I sat quietly.
Spencer took my hand.
"Erin, I don't know what's going to happen with the family money."
He swallowed.
"I don't know whether Robert has done anything illegal."
"I don't know whether Mom will ever become someone you can trust."
His eyes filled.
"But I know I don't want to spend my life being afraid of them."
I looked down at our hands.
"Spencer."
He shook his head gently.
"Please let me finish."
I nodded.
"I've spent thirty-four years confusing obedience with respect."
His voice cracked.
"I watched my father do it."
"I watched my mother do it."
"And then I asked you to do it."
Tears rolled down his face.
"I'm ashamed of that."
I began crying, too.
Spencer continued.
"I can't fix it with one argument."
"I can't undo what happened today."
"But I can stop doing it."
I looked at him.
"How?"
He took a slow breath.
"By making decisions I can live with even when they make my family angry."
I studied his face.
For the first time, there was no hesitation in his expression.
He wasn't asking me whether that answer would satisfy me.
He was telling me who he wanted to become.
I squeezed his hand.
"That's a start."
He nodded.
"I know."
Then he said, "I called a lawyer."
I blinked.
"What?"
"An independent trust attorney."
He paused.
"Owen gave me a recommendation."
I sat straighter.
"Already?"
"Yes."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because if Robert is lying about the foundation, someone needs to find out."
He swallowed.
"And because if he isn't, we need to stop accusing him."
I nodded slowly.
That was the right answer.
Not revenge.
Not assumptions.
Evidence.
Spencer continued.
"I also asked Julian to provide copies of all the records he can lawfully release to us."
"Good."
"And I asked him to retain the original camera footage."
I felt a strange warmth spread through my chest.
Not happiness.
Not yet.
But something like hope.
Spencer looked at me.
"Erin."
"Yes?"
"I want to ask you something."
I waited.
He took a breath.
"Would you consider going to counseling with me?"
I stared at him.
He continued quickly.
"Not because I think you're wrong."
"Not because I want someone to talk you into forgiving Mom."
He swallowed.
"Because I need to learn how to be a better partner."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I nodded.
"Yes."
His shoulders sagged with relief.
"But Spencer?"
He looked up.
"Yes?"
I held his gaze.
"I'm not promising a wedding."
He nodded.
"I understand."
"I'm promising a chance."
His eyes filled.
"That's more than I deserve."
I shook my head.
"Don't say that."
He frowned.
I continued.
"If we're going to try again, it can't be about deserving punishment."
I squeezed his hand.
"It has to be about changing what hurt us."
He nodded.
"Okay."
We sat quietly.
Then my phone rang.
It was Julian.
I answered.
"Hello?"
His voice was serious.
"Captain Lennox, I'm sorry to disturb you."
"What's wrong?"
"We've had a request from Mr. Robert Prescott's attorney."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What request?"
"He wants the security footage deleted under a privacy provision in the club's event agreement."
Spencer stood.
I looked at him.
"Can he do that?"
Julian paused.
"I don't believe so."
Then he added, "But he's threatening legal action against the club."
I closed my eyes.
Of course he was.
Julian continued.
"I wanted you to know we're preserving the recordings."
I exhaled.
"Thank you."
He hesitated.
"There's something else."
I stared at the phone.
"What?"
"Mrs. Prescott came to see me."
My heart skipped.
"Constance?"
"Yes."
I looked at Spencer.
Julian continued.
"She provided a written statement confirming she instructed Marjorie to remove the uniform without your consent."
I closed my eyes.
"Okay."
"And she asked me to preserve it with the incident report."
Spencer looked stunned.
Then Julian said something neither of us expected.
"She also told me she intends to withdraw from the Prescott Foundation board until an independent review is completed."
For a long moment, I couldn't speak.
May you like
Constance was finally doing something that might cost her.
And for the first time, I wondered whether the woman who had spent thirty-five years hiding from her own past was ready to stop hiding.
