Chapter 5 - The Woman Behind the Anonymous Messages
I did not reply immediately.
An anonymous photograph could be genuine.
It could be misleading.
It could be an attempt to manipulate me into accusing someone without sufficient evidence.
After everything that had happened, I understood how dangerous assumptions could become.
I forwarded the messages to Rebecca.
She called within minutes.
"Do you recognize the restaurant?"
"No."
"Don't contact the sender yet."
"Why?"
"Because we should preserve the original messages and assess whether this person knows something or simply wants to influence you."
I agreed.
Then I returned to the dining room.
Charles was reviewing the Northbridge payments.
Amelia was examining the trust provisions.
Judith looked up when she saw my expression.
"What now?"
I showed her the photograph.
She studied it carefully.
"Daniel and Natalie."
"Four months ago."
"Do you remember where Daniel was around that time?"
I thought.
Then something surfaced.
"Palm Beach."
Judith's eyes sharpened.
"Frank's old property?"
"No."
"Daniel attended an investment conference there."
"He told me he was meeting institutional partners."
Charles overheard us.
"That conference was canceled."
I turned.
"What?"
"The sponsor withdrew about six weeks before the event."
"Daniel still went?"
"Apparently."
Charles leaned closer to the photograph.
"I recognize that restaurant."
"It's the Mariner's Room at the Bellamy Resort."
Rebecca joined the call on speaker.
"I can make inquiries about the image and its source."
Amelia interrupted gently.
"Before anyone does anything, we need to ensure the investigation stays within lawful boundaries."
"Agreed," Rebecca said.
I appreciated their caution.
I had spent the previous day surrounded by people who treated emotion as evidence.
I refused to make the same mistake.
At two that afternoon, my phone rang again.
The caller identified herself as Lauren Pierce.
She sounded young.
Nervous.
"I used to work for Northbridge Advisory Group."
I sat straighter.
"How did you get my number?"
"I worked on a vendor communications project involving Whitmore."
"Why are you calling?"
A pause.
"Because I saw the news from the wedding."
My throat tightened.
There was already news?
Lauren continued.
"Someone posted a video of your speech."
"I know what Natalie did."
I glanced toward Judith.
"Miss Pierce, if you have information about possible wrongdoing, I'm willing to arrange for our legal team to speak with you."
"I don't want money."
"I didn't offer any."
Another pause.
Then she whispered, "I sent you the photograph."
I closed my eyes.
"How do you know Natalie and Daniel?"
"I was Daniel Mercer's assistant before I went to Northbridge."
That surprised me.
Daniel had told me his longtime assistant had left to care for her mother.
Lauren's next words made the room seem suddenly colder.
"Mrs. Whitmore, I don't think your daughter-in-law met your son by accident."
I stood.
"Explain."
"About a year ago, Daniel asked me to prepare a confidential profile."
"Whose profile?"
"Jackson's."
My grip tightened around the phone.
"What kind of profile?"
"His income."
"His relationships."
"His travel schedule."
"His charitable donations."
"Even the gala events he usually attended."
The charity gala.
Where Natalie had supposedly met Jackson by chance.
I sat down slowly.
"Who requested the profile?"
"Daniel said it was for succession planning."
"Did you believe him?"
"At first."
"Then I saw Natalie Hart's name in the correspondence."
I could hear Lauren breathing quickly.
"I was told to book two reservations at the same charity gala."
"One under Jackson's company account."
"One under Natalie Hart's name."
My eyes moved toward Judith.
She had gone very still.
"Are you saying Daniel arranged for Natalie to meet my son?"
"That's what the records appeared to show."
"Do you still have those records?"
"I kept copies of some emails."
"Why?"
"Because after I moved to Northbridge, they asked me to prepare documents that didn't match any actual work."
"What documents?"
"Consulting reports."
"Expense records."
"Vendor invoices."
I felt anger rising.
"Did you create them?"
"Some."
Her voice cracked.
"I didn't understand what was happening at first."
"When I asked questions, Vanessa Hart told me that everyone exaggerated consulting work."
"Then they asked me to backdate invoices."
I closed my eyes.
Lauren continued.
"I refused."
"What happened?"
"They fired me."
"How long ago?"
"Three weeks."
"And now you're calling because of the wedding video?"
"Partly."
She hesitated.
"There's something else."
I waited.
"When I worked at Northbridge, Natalie kept a folder on her computer."
"What folder?"
"It was called Project Silver."
The name meant nothing to me.
"What's significant about it?"
Lauren took a shaky breath.
"There were notes about how to persuade people you were becoming confused."
I stared at the kitchen wall.
"Confused?"
"Yes."
"Forgetful."
"Emotionally unstable."
"There were suggestions about giving you contradictory information and then claiming you didn't remember previous conversations."
I heard Judith inhale sharply.
Lauren continued.
"I saw a draft document mentioning an assisted-living evaluation."
My mouth went dry.
"What else?"
"Instructions for replacing household staff."
"Changing access privileges."
"Establishing a medical narrative."
"Making sure Jackson believed he was protecting you."
The words seemed to echo through the room.
Protecting you.
That was how every cruelty had been disguised.
Natalie mocked my age because she cared about my appearance.
She rejected family traditions because she wanted Jackson to move forward.
She encouraged distance because she wanted him to become independent.
And when she finally shaved my head, she suggested I stay home because public sympathy would embarrass him.
Every insult had been wrapped in the language of concern.
I forced myself to remain calm.
"Lauren, will you speak with our attorney?"
"Yes."
"But I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"Daniel."
"Has he threatened you?"
"He told me that if I ever repeated anything from Northbridge, I would regret it."
I looked at Amelia.
She held up her hand.
"We can discuss appropriate protections," she said.
I repeated that to Lauren.
We arranged a formal interview with counsel for the following morning.
Before hanging up, I asked one final question.
"Lauren, why did you send me that photograph?"
Her answer came quietly.
"Because I thought Jackson deserved to know what was done to him."
I swallowed.
"Thank you."
Then she added something I wasn't prepared for.
"And because Natalie wasn't Daniel's first attempt."
My pulse accelerated.
"What does that mean?"
"There was another woman."
"Before Natalie."
"Someone Daniel introduced to Jackson almost two years ago."
I remembered a brief relationship Jackson had mentioned shortly after Frank died.
A woman named Claire.
They had dated for several months.
Then the relationship ended abruptly.
Jackson never explained why.
Lauren's voice lowered.
"She refused to cooperate."
"With what?"
"The plan."
I gripped the edge of the table.
"Where is she now?"
"Her name is Claire Donovan."
"She lives outside Hartford."
"And Mrs. Whitmore?"
"Yes?"
"You need to speak with her before Daniel finds out I'm talking."
The call ended.
I sat motionless.
Judith touched my shoulder.
"Eleanor?"
I looked at her.
"Two years."
"What?"
"They've been trying to get close to Jackson for two years."
I glanced toward the photograph of Frank on the mantel.
Suddenly I understood something that terrified me more than the missing money.
This wasn't a desperate bride improvising a cruel scheme.
It was an organized effort that had begun while my son was mourning his father.
May you like
Someone had looked at his grief and seen an opportunity.
And I was beginning to suspect that my son's marriage had been arranged long before he ever met his bride.
