Chapter 5 - The House Where Love Disappeared
By sunrise, the Whitmore estate was surrounded by news vans.
Television crews crowded the private road.
Reporters gathered outside the iron gates.
The story had spread across Connecticut overnight.
A millionaire discovered a secret daughter during his own charity gala.
His mother was accused of hiding the child.
And a missing woman had been found receiving unexplained medical treatment inside a locked conservatory.
Gabriel didn't watch the coverage.
He sat at his kitchen table with a cup of coffee he had forgotten to drink.
Across from him, Izzy ate pancakes cut into tiny squares.
Marta sat beside her.
The little girl's blue cardigan had been replaced with a soft white sweater from a collection of new clothes Gabriel had ordered before dawn.
She was unusually quiet.
Gabriel watched her use her fork.
Every movement fascinated him.
The way she wrinkled her nose when concentrating.
The way she tucked loose hair behind her ear.
The way she carefully saved the strawberries until the end.
He had missed six years of this.
He never wanted to miss another breakfast.
Izzy noticed him watching.
"Do I have syrup on my face?"
Gabriel smiled.
"No."
"Then why do you keep looking at me?"
He considered the question.
"Because I still can't believe you're here."
Izzy looked around the enormous kitchen.
"Are you going to send me away?"
The question struck him hard.
"No."
"Even when the party's over?"
"Even then."
"Even when you have meetings?"
Gabriel reached across the table.
"Especially then."
She gave him a shy smile.
Then she glanced at the empty chair beside him.
"Can Mommy eat breakfast with us someday?"
Gabriel's throat tightened.
"That's what I'm hoping."
Izzy pushed a strawberry around her plate.
"Marta said Mommy was sick."
"She is."
"Is she going to get better?"
Gabriel didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep.
So he told her the truth.
"She's getting help from some very good doctors."
Izzy nodded.
"Can I draw her a picture?"
"I think she'd love that."
The little girl slid from her chair and hurried toward her art supplies.
Gabriel watched her disappear into the adjoining room.
Then he turned to Marta.
"How much does she know?"
Marta lowered her eyes.
"About her mother?"
"About everything."
Marta sighed.
"Not much."
Gabriel leaned back.
"Then tell me what you know."
Marta folded her hands.
"After Miss Olivia disappeared, your mother told me she had gone away voluntarily."
"Did you believe her?"
"At first."
"Then?"
"A few months later, I was sent to deliver supplies to the conservatory."
Gabriel stared.
"And you found Olivia?"
Marta shook her head.
"Not then."
"Who did you find?"
"Dr. Vale."
She swallowed.
"He told me the building was being used for private medical treatment."
Gabriel waited.
"I didn't ask questions."
Marta's eyes filled.
"I was afraid of losing my job."
Gabriel said nothing.
"My husband had just died."
She wiped her cheeks.
"My sister was sick."
"I understand."
"No, sir."
Marta shook her head.
"You shouldn't have to understand."
She took a breath.
"Two years later, I found a little girl crying in the old guest wing."
Gabriel leaned forward.
"Isabelle?"
"Yes."
"How old was she?"
"Almost two."
Marta's voice broke.
"She was calling for her mother."
Gabriel gripped the table.
"I asked the nanny who she belonged to."
"What did she say?"
"She told me never to ask again."
Marta reached into her apron.
From an inner pocket, she removed a folded photograph.
It showed a toddler in a yellow raincoat sitting on a swing.
Gabriel recognized Izzy immediately.
He touched the picture.
"Who took this?"
"I did."
"Where?"
"At your mother's summer property."
Gabriel looked up.
"She was living there?"
Marta nodded.
"With a rotating group of caretakers."
He stared at her.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Your mother told the staff the child was the daughter of an employee who had died."
Gabriel felt sick.
"She lied to everyone."
"To most people."
Marta looked away.
"Not all."
Gabriel waited.
"Eventually I discovered Olivia was alive."
His jaw tightened.
"How?"
"Isabelle got sick."
Marta's voice cracked.
"She had a high fever and wouldn't stop crying for her mommy."
She pressed her hands together.
"I heard one of the nurses say they could take her to see Olivia if Mrs. Whitmore approved."
Gabriel closed his eyes.
"And she didn't."
"No."
Marta shook her head.
"She said the woman was too unstable."
"What did you do?"
"I stayed with Isabelle all night."
Her voice broke.
"I sang to her until she fell asleep."
Gabriel covered his mouth.
"After that, I began watching more carefully."
"And?"
"I discovered the child was yours."
Gabriel looked at her.
"How?"
Marta smiled sadly.
"She looked exactly like you did when you were little."
He couldn't speak.
"Then one day she found an old picture of Miss Olivia."
Marta's eyes filled again.
"She kissed it and called her Mommy."
Gabriel bent his head.
"I couldn't pretend anymore."
"Why didn't you come to me?"
"Your mother threatened to have my sister evicted from the medical residence that was helping her."
Gabriel looked up sharply.
"She threatened your family?"
Marta nodded.
"And she told me you already knew about Isabelle."
Gabriel stared.
"That I had abandoned her."
He closed his eyes.
"God."
Marta began crying.
"I believed her for a little while."
Gabriel reached across the table.
He took her hand.
"You told me the truth."
"Too late."
"Maybe."
His voice softened.
"But you still told me."
Before Marta could answer, Daniel Pierce entered the kitchen.
Daniel had been Gabriel's personal attorney for twelve years.
He was in his mid-forties, with tired eyes and the careful manner of a man who trusted documents more than people.
He carried a leather briefcase.
"Gabriel."
Gabriel stood.
"What have you found?"
Daniel placed several folders on the table.
"Your mother has retained criminal defense counsel."
Gabriel wasn't surprised.
"And Dr. Vale?"
"His attorney has advised him not to speak."
Gabriel clenched his jaw.
"What about Olivia?"
"Her doctors are cooperating with investigators, subject to her wishes and medical privacy."
Daniel opened the first folder.
"There's something else."
Gabriel looked down.
The document inside was a property transfer agreement dated six years earlier.
His signature appeared at the bottom.
He frowned.
"I've never seen this."
Daniel nodded.
"That's what I was afraid you'd say."
"What is it?"
"A trust arrangement involving three hundred million dollars in company assets."
Gabriel stared.
"My mother moved company assets?"
"Apparently."
"Using my signature?"
"That's what we need to establish."
Gabriel scanned the page.
One name appeared repeatedly.
He looked up.
"Who's Nathaniel Cross?"
Daniel's expression darkened.
"Your father's former business partner."
Gabriel remembered the name.
Nathaniel Cross had disappeared from public life after a massive financial scandal nine years earlier.
He had also been one of the last people to see Gabriel's father alive.
Daniel pulled out another paper.
"And there's one more thing."
Gabriel looked at it.
It was a copy of a death certificate.
The name was Thomas Whitmore.
His father.
But the date was wrong.
According to the document, Thomas had died three months later than the date on his gravestone.
Gabriel stared at the paper.
"Daniel."
His voice sounded strange.
"What am I looking at?"
Daniel met his eyes.
"I think someone may have lied about when your father died."
Gabriel looked toward the garden.
Then toward the photograph of Izzy.
He had spent his entire life believing his mother protected the family.
Now he was beginning to understand that she had protected something else.
Something worth more than money.
"Get the car," he said.
Daniel frowned.
"Where are we going?"
Gabriel picked up Olivia's photograph.
"Vermont."
He slipped it into his jacket.
"I'm going back to the house where all of this started."
At that moment, Izzy appeared in the doorway.
She held a new drawing.
It showed three people sitting at a breakfast table.
One was a little girl.
One was a man.
The third was a woman.
Gabriel knelt beside her.
"That's beautiful, sweetheart."
Izzy smiled.
"That's us."
He looked closer.
The woman's face was unfinished.
"Why didn't you draw Mommy's face?"
Izzy's smile faded.
"Because I'm scared I'll forget what she looks like."
Gabriel pulled her into his arms.
Then he noticed something written in tiny letters beneath the picture.
Daddy, find the blue door.
He held the page away.
"Izzy, who told you to write this?"
She looked surprised.
"Mommy."
Gabriel's heart raced.
"When?"
Izzy pointed toward the north garden.
"When I heard her singing."
She lowered her voice.
May you like
"She said the blue door knows where the bad man went."
And Gabriel suddenly knew that whatever waited in Vermont had been hidden for years.
