Chapter 5 - The Person Inside the Family
Genevieve was out of the hospital bed before Priya could stop her.
“You cannot go over there.”
“My aunt is with them.”
“You can barely stand.”
“Then find me a wheelchair.”
Priya stared at her.
Genevieve grabbed the bed rail.
“Please.”
Thirty seconds later, Reeves entered.
“No.”
Genevieve glared at him.
“You don’t even know what I’m asking.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Adrian has Evelyn.”
“We have officers moving.”
“I need to hear what he says.”
“You need to stay alive.”
A gunshot cracked outside.
Everyone froze.
Genevieve turned toward the window.
On the parking structure roof, three figures scattered.
Reeves grabbed his radio.
Genevieve could not tell who had fallen.
Then Marcus appeared again.
Standing.
Evelyn too.
Adrian had disappeared behind a concrete wall.
Reeves rushed out.
Genevieve turned to Priya.
“Wheelchair.”
Priya swore softly.
Then brought one.
By the time they reached the enclosed skybridge connecting the hospital to the garage, police had blocked access.
Genevieve refused to stop.
An officer recognized her and let Priya wheel her close enough to see.
Marcus sat against a wall with blood soaking through his jacket near the shoulder.
Evelyn stood nearby.
Unhurt.
Adrian was gone.
“He fired?” Genevieve asked.
Marcus shook his head.
“Sabrina.”
Genevieve stared.
“What?”
“She followed him.”
Reeves approached.
“Sabrina fired from the lower ramp. Missed Adrian. Hit Marcus.”
“Where is she?”
“Gone.”
“And Adrian?”
“Also gone.”
Evelyn handed Genevieve the sealed letter.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t finish reading.”
“Why?”
“Because Marcus arrived.”
Genevieve opened the letter herself.
The final sentence continued:
Do not trust Eleanor Hart.
Genevieve stared.
Eleanor.
Her father’s older sister.
Her godmother.
The woman Genevieve called Aunt Ellie.
Eleanor had retired to Florida years earlier.
She had flown in after Thomas’s death.
Stayed with Genevieve for three months.
Helped arrange the funeral.
Helped settle the estate.
Adrian had always been unusually affectionate with her.
Genevieve had assumed he wanted family approval.
Now she wondered.
Evelyn saw the name.
Her face changed.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“But you suspected something.”
“Thomas and Eleanor fought before he died.”
“About what?”
“He never told me.”
Genevieve thought back.
Eleanor had been the first person in the family to embrace Adrian.
“You should give him a chance,” she had told Thomas.
“He makes Genevieve happy.”
Had she introduced them?
Genevieve searched her memory.
The charity gala.
Three years earlier.
Genevieve attended alone.
Adrian had approached near the silent-auction tables.
But Eleanor had been chairing the gala committee.
Adrian was supposedly there as a donor.
Had Eleanor arranged it?
Genevieve looked at Evelyn.
“Where is Eleanor now?”
“Palm Beach.”
“Call her.”
“Genevieve…”
“Call her.”
Evelyn did.
No answer.
Again.
Voicemail.
Then Genevieve’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A woman spoke.
Older.
Familiar.
“Genevieve.”
Eleanor.
Genevieve looked at Evelyn.
“Where are you?”
“Where I should have been two years ago.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I heard about the hospital.”
“Did Adrian tell you?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Silence.
Genevieve’s anger sharpened.
“Did you introduce Adrian to me?”
Eleanor exhaled.
“Yes.”
The simplicity of the confession hurt more than denial.
“Why?”
“I thought I was helping you.”
“Helping me do what?”
“Meet someone outside the Hart circle.”
“He was stealing from us.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Dad thought you did.”
Another silence.
Then Eleanor said, “Your father thought many things.”
“He died investigating Adrian.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“I learned later.”
“And you said nothing?”
“I was afraid.”
“For yourself?”
“For you.”
Genevieve almost laughed.
“Everyone keeps saying they betrayed me for my protection.”
“I made mistakes.”
“Did you work with Red Harbor?”
“No.”
“Did you know Sabrina?”
“Yes.”
Genevieve gripped the phone.
“How?”
“She worked for me.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Doing what?”
“Events.”
“Before she became my wedding stylist.”
“Yes.”
“Before I met Adrian?”
“Yes.”
The entire relationship had been constructed.
Adrian.
Sabrina.
Eleanor.
All roads led backward.
“Why did you introduce Adrian?”
“He came to me with information about your father.”
“What information?”
“He said Thomas was hiding company losses.”
Genevieve looked at Evelyn.
“Was he?”
“No,” Evelyn said.
Eleanor heard.
“Is Evelyn with you?”
“Yes.”
“I need to speak to both of you.”
“You’re speaking.”
“Not on the phone.”
“Where are you?”
“Chicago.”
Genevieve went still.
“You said you were in Florida.”
“I was.”
“When did you arrive?”
“This morning.”
“Where?”
A pause.
“Your father’s old house.”
Genevieve had not entered that property for over a year.
A lakeside home outside the city.
Mostly empty.
Maintained by staff.
“What are you doing there?”
“Looking for something Thomas hid.”
“What?”
“Proof that I was wrong.”
Genevieve closed her eyes.
“You already knew about the ledger.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Eleanor’s voice broke.
“A recording.”
Genevieve opened her eyes.
“What recording?”
“Thomas called me the night he died.”
Genevieve stared at Evelyn.
Evelyn looked equally shocked.
“You never told us.”
“I deleted the voicemail.”
“Why?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
“What did he say?”
Eleanor began crying quietly.
“He said, ‘Ellie, the man you brought into Genevieve’s life is trying to destroy this family.’”
Genevieve said nothing.
“And?”
“He said he had proof.”
“Where?”
“He told me he put a copy where Rose used to sing.”
Genevieve’s breath caught.
Rose.
Her mother.
“Where did Mom sing?”
Evelyn whispered, “The music room.”
Genevieve remembered.
A grand piano.
Rose Hart had sung while cooking, driving, cleaning, everywhere.
But the old music room held something else.
A carved walnut music box Thomas gave Rose on their tenth anniversary.
After Rose died, Thomas placed it inside the piano bench.
Genevieve looked at Reeves.
“We need to go to the house.”
“No.”
“Detective.”
“Adrian and Sabrina are fugitives. The house may be a target.”
“Exactly.”
Reeves stared at her.
Then his radio crackled.
An officer spoke rapidly.
Reeves’s expression changed.
“What?”
“They found Adrian’s car.”
“Where?”
“Two blocks from your father’s house.”
Everyone went silent.
Genevieve said, “He knows.”
Reeves ordered units to the property.
Genevieve insisted on going.
This time Reeves stopped arguing.
They traveled in an unmarked police vehicle.
Genevieve wore a coat over her hospital gown.
Bandages still covered part of her head.
She did not care.
The Hart house looked exactly as she remembered.
Stone façade.
Tall windows.
The front door stood open.
Reeves drew his weapon.
Officers entered first.
Clear.
Living room.
Clear.
Kitchen.
Clear.
Study.
Clear.
They reached the music room.
The piano bench was open.
Empty.
Genevieve’s stomach dropped.
“He got here first.”
Eleanor stepped from behind the piano.
Everyone turned.
She held the wooden music box.
“I found it.”
Genevieve stared at her godmother.
Eleanor looked twenty years older than the last time they met.
She placed the box on the piano.
Inside was a small digital recorder.
Reeves put on gloves.
They played it.
Thomas Hart’s voice filled the room.
Calm.
Precise.
“If you’re hearing this, something happened before I could finish what I started.”
Genevieve covered her mouth.
Her father.
Alive again for thirty seconds.
“I discovered that Red Harbor Capital has been purchasing Hart Meridian debt through intermediaries.”
Evelyn frowned.
“That wasn’t in the ledger.”
Thomas continued.
“The goal is not simply theft.”
Everyone listened.
“They intend to force a liquidity crisis, acquire Meridian assets cheaply, and blame Genevieve’s leadership.”
Genevieve closed her eyes.
“They chose my daughter because her trust makes her easy to isolate.”
Then Thomas said:
“Adrian Vale is not the architect.”
Genevieve opened her eyes.
“If I am correct, Adrian himself has been used.”
Everyone looked at one another.
The recording continued.
“The person directing Red Harbor is someone with access to Hart family records going back twenty years.”
Thomas paused.
“I believe that person is—”
The recording stopped.
Reeves checked the device.
“That’s it.”
“No,” Eleanor whispered.
“There’s more.”
“Where?”
“Thomas made copies.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me.”
Genevieve turned.
“Where?”
Before Eleanor could answer, glass shattered in the hallway.
Reeves drew his weapon.
Officers shouted.
Genevieve heard footsteps running upstairs.
Then a child screamed.
“Noah!”
Sabrina’s voice echoed from the second floor.
Genevieve froze.
Noah was inside the house.
Reeves ran toward the stairs.
A door slammed above them.
Then Adrian shouted:
“Sabrina, don’t!”
Genevieve stared upward.
May you like
They were both there.
And whatever Thomas had hidden upstairs had brought every secret in the Hart family to the same place.
