Chapter 3 - Everything David Thought He Owned
I read the sentence twice.
Then a third time.
Eleanor remained in the doorway.
"Give me the letter."
"No."
"That belongs to me."
"My mother wrote it."
"To me."
I unfolded the page.
Eleanor moved.
I raised my phone.
"I'm photographing it."
She stopped.
Smart.
Whatever power she thought she held over me had begun evaporating.
The letter was dated fourteen years earlier.
My mother had still been alive.
Eleanor,
I know what you've been doing.
I know why you've been asking questions about Sarah.
Whatever happened between you and me belongs to the past. Our children will not be used to settle it.
If you ever bring your son near my daughter, I will tell Marcus everything.
Stay away from her.
Katherine.
That was all.
No explanation.
No description of what "everything" meant.
I looked at Eleanor.
"What were you doing?"
"Your mother was paranoid."
"About what?"
"Me."
"Why?"
She crossed her arms.
"Because she knew Marcus respected my work."
I almost laughed.
"He fired you."
"Your mother made him fire me."
"So you spent fourteen years keeping this letter?"
No answer.
I photographed both sides.
Then took the storage key.
Downstairs, Marcus read the letter without speaking.
David paced.
"This proves nothing."
I turned on him.
"It proves my mother knew your mother was interested in me before we ever met."
"That doesn't mean I was."
"She warned Eleanor to keep you away from me."
"Sarah, listen to yourself. You're building a conspiracy because you're angry."
"I'm angry because you hit me."
He looked toward the security men.
His voice dropped.
"I lost control."
"No. You showed me who you are."
His jaw tightened.
"We've been married six years."
"And apparently you've been lying longer."
Marcus handed me the letter.
"Northstar."
I nodded.
"We're going."
David stepped forward.
"You can't access my storage unit."
I held up the key.
"Apparently your mother can."
"Sarah."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"If you walk out that door with him, don't come back."
The old Sarah might have heard a threat.
The woman standing there heard an invitation.
"Okay."
David blinked.
"What?"
"Okay."
I walked toward the entrance.
"Sarah!"
I didn't stop.
Northstar Storage was thirty minutes away.
Marcus sat beside me in the back of his car.
For most of the drive, neither of us spoke.
Finally, I asked:
"What didn't you tell me about Eleanor?"
He looked out the window.
"I don't know yet."
"That's not an answer."
"No. It's the truth."
I studied him.
"My mother said she'd tell you everything."
"I never saw that letter."
"What happened between them?"
"Katherine believed Eleanor was falsifying expense reports."
"Believed?"
"We found enough evidence to terminate her. Not enough to prosecute."
"Did Mom think there was more?"
"Yes."
"What?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Information."
"What kind?"
"Private financial information."
My stomach tightened.
"About our family?"
"About the trust structure."
I stared at him.
"Which would explain how David knew where to look."
Marcus nodded.
The storage facility looked aggressively ordinary.
Rows of gray doors.
Fluorescent lighting.
Security cameras.
Unit 314 was on the third floor.
The brass key worked.
Inside were six filing cabinets.
A desk.
Two computers.
And dozens of banker boxes.
I stood in the doorway.
"This isn't old business paperwork."
Marcus walked toward the nearest cabinet.
Labels ran down its side.
PROPERTY.
TRUST.
STERLING.
I stopped breathing.
My father opened it.
Inside were copies of my financial statements.
Tax records.
Trust summaries.
Documents stretching back more than a decade.
"How did he get these?"
Marcus pulled out a file.
"He shouldn't have."
I opened another drawer.
There were photographs.
Me leaving work.
Me entering restaurants.
Me at a gym.
Some dated before I had met David.
I dropped them.
"Oh my God."
Marcus's expression hardened.
I felt violated in a way I couldn't describe.
Our meeting had not been luck.
David hadn't stumbled into my life.
He had studied it.
Then I saw the folder.
NORTHSTAR.
Inside were incorporation documents.
Northstar Holdings LLC.
The managing member was hidden behind another corporation.
But attached to the back was an old handwritten note.
E.B. — 40%
D.B. — 60%
Eleanor Bennett.
David Bennett.
My knees weakened.
Marcus caught my elbow.
"I'm okay."
"You don't have to be."
"I need to understand."
We kept searching.
Northstar had received money through consulting contracts with David's company.
David's company had received funds linked to accounts in my name.
Small transfers.
Never enough individually to trigger my attention.
Over six years, they accumulated.
Millions.
My father sat at the desk.
"Sarah."
I looked at him.
"This wasn't opportunistic."
"I know."
"It was structured before your marriage."
I knew that too.
Knowing didn't make hearing it easier.
My phone vibrated.
Rebecca.
I answered immediately.
"Where are you?"
"Northstar."
Silence.
Then:
"You found it."
"Yes."
"Then you need the blue ledger."
"What blue ledger?"
"David kept a handwritten backup because Eleanor didn't trust digital records."
I searched the desk.
Nothing.
"Where?"
"False bottom. Right drawer."
I opened it.
Removed the contents.
Pressed downward.
A panel shifted.
Beneath it lay a blue notebook.
Marcus and I looked at each other.
I opened it.
Dates.
Amounts.
Initials.
Then entries labeled S.S.
Sarah Sterling.
Beside the earliest one was a date.
Eight months before I met David.
I felt physically cold.
"What does it say?" Rebecca asked.
I read aloud.
"Target confirmed. Wilton event."
My father closed his eyes.
The room seemed to tilt.
Target.
Not woman.
Not Sarah.
Target.
I turned the page.
First contact successful.
Relationship progressing.
Katherine's warning irrelevant.
I couldn't speak.
Rebecca did.
"I'm sorry."
"How did you get involved?"
"I was David's controller."
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because six months ago I discovered what Northstar really was."
"And?"
"I confronted him."
"What happened?"
"He fired me."
"Why didn't you call me then?"
"I tried."
I remembered blocked numbers.
David frequently took my phone to "clean out spam."
My stomach turned.
Rebecca continued.
"I sent letters."
I had never seen them.
"I was scared."
"Of David?"
"Of Eleanor."
That surprised me.
"Why Eleanor?"
Rebecca lowered her voice.
"Because David isn't the person who planned this."
Marcus looked toward the phone.
"Who did?"
Rebecca hesitated.
Then the storage unit lights went out.
Darkness swallowed us.
"Rebecca?"
The line remained connected.
My father turned on his phone flashlight.
Footsteps sounded outside.
Slow.
Approaching.
Marcus moved toward the door.
"Stay behind me."
The footsteps stopped.
A shadow appeared beneath the door.
Then someone slid a white envelope underneath it.
No attack.
No threat.
Just an envelope.
Marcus waited.
The footsteps retreated.
I picked it up.
Inside was a photograph.
My mother.
Eleanor.
And a third woman.
They were young.
Standing outside Sterling headquarters.
On the back were six handwritten words:
ASK MARCUS ABOUT THE THIRD WOMAN.
I raised my eyes toward my father.
He stared at the photograph.
"Dad?"
His face had gone pale.
"Who is she?"
For several seconds he couldn't answer.
May you like
Then he whispered a name I had never heard before.
"Victoria."
