Chapter 2 - The Man Waiting at Nine
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Eleanor's fingers remained wrapped around the staircase railing.
My father stared at her with an expression I had never seen before.
Not fear.
Recognition mixed with something colder.
David broke the silence.
"You two know each other?"
Eleanor recovered first.
"Of course not."
Marcus stood.
"You always were a terrible liar."
Her face tightened.
David looked at his mother.
"Mom?"
"I met him once."
"When?"
"A long time ago."
Marcus picked up the transfer document.
"Twenty-seven years ago."
My stomach tightened.
Twenty-seven years.
I had been three.
"Why?"
Eleanor said nothing.
Marcus looked at me.
"Your mother."
Those two words changed the room.
My mother, Katherine Sterling, had died when I was seventeen.
Cancer had taken her slowly enough for us to understand what was happening and quickly enough that none of us were ready.
"What does Mom have to do with Eleanor?"
My father kept his eyes on my mother-in-law.
"She worked for us."
I stared at Eleanor.
She gave a dismissive laugh.
"That's ridiculous."
"Sterling Foundation. Accounts department. 1999 through 2001."
David's head snapped toward her.
"You told me you worked for an insurance company."
"I did."
"After she was terminated," Marcus said.
Eleanor's face hardened.
"Be careful."
My father almost smiled.
"About facts?"
I stepped forward.
"Why was she fired?"
Marcus hesitated.
That hesitation bothered me more than anything he'd said.
"Dad."
"Financial irregularities."
Eleanor suddenly spoke.
"Your wife blamed me for something I didn't do."
"Katherine discovered seventeen unauthorized reimbursements."
"They were clerical mistakes."
"All seventeen?"
Eleanor's cheeks flushed.
David stepped between them.
"I don't care about something that happened twenty-seven years ago. Get out of my house."
Marcus looked around.
"Your house?"
"Yes."
"Interesting."
He placed the transfer document on the table.
"Because according to this, a substantial portion of the capital used to refinance this property came from a trust established for my daughter."
David's expression changed.
I watched carefully.
There it was.
A flicker.
He knew.
"That's nonsense."
"Then explain it."
David looked at me.
"Sarah, what have you been telling him?"
"Nothing about money."
"You've obviously poisoned him against me."
My father started forward.
I raised my hand.
"No."
Marcus stopped.
This was mine.
I looked at David.
"Did you transfer money from my trust?"
"What trust?"
Wrong answer.
Because David had always claimed he didn't know my family still maintained trusts.
I had deliberately kept that part of my life separate from our marriage.
"You know what I'm talking about."
"No, I don't."
I pointed toward the paper.
"Then why is your company's name there?"
"Anybody can fabricate a document."
My father nodded.
"Correct."
David looked relieved for half a second.
"Which is why my attorney is obtaining the banking records."
The relief disappeared.
Eleanor walked into the living room.
"Marcus, surely we can handle this privately."
My father looked at her.
"Why would you want privacy?"
She glanced at David.
That was the second mistake.
"Mom," David said slowly, "what aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing."
"You know this man."
"I knew his wife."
"How?"
Eleanor's lips pressed together.
I suddenly remembered something.
The first time David introduced me to his mother, she had stared at me for several seconds before hugging me.
At the time I'd assumed she was emotional.
Now I remembered her exact words.
You look so much like her.
I'd thought she meant someone in David's family.
"Did you know who I was when David introduced us?"
Eleanor looked at me.
Silence.
"Eleanor."
"I knew your surname."
"My maiden name?"
"Eventually."
David frowned.
"You told me you found her maiden name while planning the wedding."
I turned toward him.
"What?"
He froze.
That sentence had escaped accidentally.
"David."
"It's nothing."
"You knew she was a Sterling before we got married?"
He looked away.
My stomach dropped.
When we'd met, I had introduced myself as Sarah Katherine.
I was working at a firm where nobody knew about my family connections.
For nearly a year, David claimed he had no idea who my father was.
He'd said discovering the truth made him uncomfortable.
He had even accused me of testing him.
Now his own words betrayed him.
"How long?" I asked.
"Sarah—"
"How long did you know?"
He sighed.
"Before we got engaged."
The room became impossibly quiet.
"How?"
Eleanor answered.
"I told him."
David spun toward her.
"Mom!"
There it was.
The first crack.
I looked at my husband.
"You knew."
"It didn't matter."
"It mattered enough to lie."
"I loved you."
"Then why lie?"
"Because you were obsessed with proving everybody wasn't interested in your father's money!"
The words hit differently than his hand had.
Not because they hurt more.
Because they explained more.
I thought about our first date.
The restaurant he'd supposedly chosen by coincidence.
The neighborhood where I'd lived.
The charity event where we'd "accidentally" met.
Had any of it been accidental?
My father seemed to read my thoughts.
"When did you meet?"
I answered automatically.
"At the Wilton Foundation gala."
Marcus looked at Eleanor.
Her face went pale.
"What?" I asked.
My father didn't answer.
"Dad."
"The Wilton Foundation used to partner with Sterling."
I felt sick.
David started talking quickly.
"Sarah, this is insane. Yes, my mother recognized your name. So what? I didn't marry you for money."
"Then explain the transfer."
"I can't explain a fake document."
My phone vibrated.
Everyone looked at me.
It was a message from an unknown number.
One photograph.
I opened it.
My breathing stopped.
It showed David sitting at a restaurant table.
Across from him was a woman I didn't recognize.
Between them lay several documents.
The timestamp was three weeks earlier.
Underneath the photograph was a message.
ASK HIM ABOUT NORTHSTAR.
I looked up.
"What's Northstar?"
David's face changed.
Marcus noticed.
Eleanor noticed.
Even the security men near the entrance seemed to notice.
"I don't know."
I held up the phone.
"Someone thinks you do."
David walked toward me.
"Give me that."
I stepped backward.
My father moved between us.
"Don't."
David stopped.
"Sarah, somebody is trying to manipulate you."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
Another message arrived.
This one contained an address.
And four words.
THE ORIGINALS ARE HERE.
I stared at it.
Marcus looked over my shoulder.
"Do you recognize that address?"
I did.
It belonged to the storage facility where David claimed he kept old business records.
He had forbidden me from going there because, according to him, "insurance doesn't cover visitors."
I looked at my husband.
He was staring at the address.
And he was terrified.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown caller.
I answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice whispered:
"Sarah Sterling?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"My name is Rebecca Lane."
Behind me, David whispered something.
"No."
Rebecca continued.
"I worked for your husband."
David lunged for the phone.
My father blocked him.
Rebecca's next words came quickly.
"David has been moving your money for years."
I couldn't breathe.
"How much?"
Silence.
Then:
"More than you know."
David shouted, "She's lying!"
Rebecca heard him.
Her voice dropped.
"Don't let him destroy the Northstar file."
The call ended.
David stood frozen.
My father turned toward him.
"Where is it?"
David didn't answer.
Eleanor suddenly backed toward the staircase.
I saw her.
So did Marcus.
"Eleanor."
She stopped.
"What?"
"Where are you going?"
"My room."
"No," I said.
For the first time that morning, she looked at me as though I had authority.
"I need my medicine."
"I'll get it."
Her eyes widened.
I went upstairs.
Eleanor followed immediately.
"Sarah, don't."
I entered the guest bedroom.
On the nightstand sat her handbag.
Beside it was a prescription bottle.
I picked it up.
Then I noticed something underneath the bag.
A brass key.
A white paper tag hung from it.
NORTHSTAR STORAGE — UNIT 314.
Eleanor reached the doorway.
We looked at each other.
"Give me that key."
I closed my fingers around it.
"Why do you have this?"
"It's David's."
"Then why is it in your purse?"
She stepped forward.
"Sarah."
I backed away.
Something crackled beneath my shoe.
An envelope.
It had fallen from her bag.
Across the front, in faded handwriting, was my mother's name.
KATHERINE STERLING.
My heartbeat stopped.
Eleanor saw it.
All the color disappeared from her face.
I bent down.
"Don't open that."
I picked it up.
"Eleanor—"
"Sarah, please."
It was the first time she'd ever said please to me.
I turned the envelope over.
The seal had already been broken.
Inside was a letter.
My mother's handwriting covered the first page.
May you like
And the first sentence read:
Eleanor, if you ever bring your son near my daughter, I will tell Marcus everything.
