Chapter 6 - The Woman Who Wanted Me Gone
My mother had been dead for fourteen years.
At least, that was what I had been told.
Evelyn Carter died when I was thirteen after a brief illness.
She had worked hotel jobs when I was little, but I knew almost nothing about them.
Now her name was inside a Calder personnel file.
Arthur stared at the document for a long time.
“I remember her.”
My heart stopped.
“How?”
“She worked at the Calder Grand.”
“What did she do?”
“Accounting.”
Mason and I exchanged a look.
Of course.
Accounting.
“When?”
Arthur checked the dates.
“Twenty-seven years ago.”
“Why did she leave?”
His silence told me he knew something.
“Arthur.”
“She didn't leave voluntarily.”
“What does that mean?”
“She reported financial irregularities.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“Northbridge?”
“No. Northbridge didn't exist then.”
“Then what?”
Arthur walked toward the window.
“There was another investigation.”
He explained that Evelyn had discovered executives using fake vendor invoices.
The amounts were smaller.
The method was almost identical.
“She gave evidence to internal audit,” Arthur said.
“What happened?”
“The investigation found nothing.”
“And my mother?”
“She was dismissed.”
My throat tightened.
“By whom?”
Arthur looked at me.
“Richard Vale.”
Twenty-seven years earlier, Richard had been a young financial controller.
Arthur claimed he never knew Evelyn had been fired.
Her complaint had never reached him.
I wanted to believe him.
But belief was becoming expensive.
“You owned the company.”
“Yes.”
“So don't tell me you weren't responsible.”
Arthur accepted that without argument.
“You're right.”
That answer disarmed me.
He didn't hide behind hierarchy.
He didn't blame a department.
He simply said it.
You're right.
Then Adrian arrived carrying another file.
“Northbridge is collapsing.”
The shell company's registered agent had agreed to cooperate.
Payments flowed through multiple accounts.
Some ended with Richard.
Some with Charles.
And some appeared connected to Vanessa.
“She knew?” I asked.
“Evidence suggests she benefited,” Adrian said. “Whether she understood the full scheme is still being investigated.”
My phone rang.
Vanessa.
I almost didn't answer.
Arthur nodded.
I put it on speaker.
“Lily.”
Her voice sounded different.
No arrogance.
“Why are you calling me?”
“We need to meet.”
“No.”
“I have something about your mother.”
Everyone froze.
“What?”
“Not over the phone.”
“Send it.”
“I can't.”
“Then give it to the police.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You still think this is only about stolen money.”
Arthur stepped closer.
Vanessa heard movement.
“Is he there?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then:
“Don't trust him.”
Arthur's expression didn't change.
“Where do you want to meet?” I asked.
“Tomorrow. Ten a.m. St. Matthew's parking garage. Level four.”
“No.”
“Lily—”
“I don't meet people alone in parking garages.”
For the first time, Arthur almost smiled.
Vanessa sighed.
“Fine. Bring Mason.”
“Arthur too.”
“No.”
“Then no meeting.”
Another silence.
“Fine.”
She hung up.
The next morning, we arrived with Adrian and two private security officers positioned nearby.
Vanessa's car was already there.
She stood beside it holding a manila envelope.
No diamonds.
No evening gown.
Jeans.
Sunglasses.
She looked exhausted.
“You brought an army.”
“You threatened me.”
“I didn't send those messages.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You shouldn't.”
At least that was honest.
She handed me the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
My mother stood outside a Calder hotel.
Beside her was Richard Vale.
And Charles Price.
On the back, in my mother's handwriting:
If anything happens to me, Arthur needs to know.
I looked at Arthur.
His face had gone gray.
Vanessa removed another item.
A cassette tape.
“My father kept this.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
“Against whom?”
She looked toward Arthur.
“Everyone.”
A vehicle engine roared behind us.
Adrian shouted.
“Move!”
A black SUV accelerated around the concrete pillar.
Straight toward Vanessa.
We jumped aside.
The envelope scattered.
The SUV missed us by inches and disappeared down the ramp.
Vanessa lay against the concrete, shaking.
Arthur picked up the cassette.
There was a handwritten date on it.
Twenty-seven years earlier.
May you like
And underneath it were three words.
ARTHUR MUST HEAR.
