Chapter 5 - The Witness Who Saw Everything
Victor read James Calder’s note three times.
Then a fourth.
I was not the only witness.
“Who?” Daniel asked.
Victor turned the page.
Nothing.
No name.
No phone number.
Just the statement.
James had signed and dated it six months after Claire’s death.
Victor looked at Andrew.
“Did you know Margaret followed her?”
“No.”
“Did Claire call you again?”
“No.”
“Did Margaret?”
“Not until after Claire died.”
Victor’s mind raced.
Claire left the clinic against medical advice.
Margaret followed.
They argued.
Then Claire went to the charity luncheon.
An hour later, she collapsed.
None of that meant Margaret caused her death.
But it meant she had hidden a final confrontation for eleven months.
Victor called Martin.
“Find out where Margaret is.”
“I’ll contact her attorney.”
“No. Find her.”
“Victor—”
“I’m not going after her. I want to know she isn’t destroying documents.”
Martin understood.
“I’ll have an investigator check.”
Victor looked at the boys.
It was nearly ten.
Oliver could barely keep his eyes open.
“Enough.”
Daniel protested.
“Dad—”
“No. You’re children.”
“I’m fifteen.”
“And tonight you’re my fifteen-year-old son who has learned enough terrible things for one day.”
Daniel opened his mouth.
Victor added, “I’m not hiding anything. Tomorrow, I will tell you what I know.”
It was the first promise of that kind he had made in months.
Daniel studied him.
Then nodded.
Elena took Oliver’s hand.
“I’ll get them settled.”
Victor looked at her.
“I’ll do it.”
The boys all stared.
Victor almost laughed.
“Yes. I remember where your rooms are.”
Nathan actually smiled.
Small.
But real.
Upstairs, Victor sat beside Oliver’s bed.
The boy watched him from beneath the covers.
“Are you firing Aunt Margaret?”
Victor exhaled.
“She doesn’t work for me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m angry with her.”
“Are you going to jail her?”
“Oliver.”
“What?”
“No one is going to jail anyone tonight.”
“Uncle Andrew stole money.”
Victor stared.
Children always heard the worst parts.
“That’s an adult problem.”
“He said yes.”
“He did.”
“Is stealing worse if you’re rich?”
Victor blinked.
“No.”
“Then why did Nathan say rich people call it fraud instead?”
Victor rubbed his forehead.
“I need to speak to Nathan about his vocabulary.”
Oliver smiled.
Then his face became serious.
“Did Aunt Margaret hurt Mom?”
Victor’s heart tightened.
“No.”
“You know?”
“I know your mother died because something happened inside her brain.”
“But Aunt Margaret followed her.”
“Yes.”
“And they fought.”
“Yes.”
Oliver picked at the blanket.
“Mom and Aunt Margaret fought before.”
Victor sat straighter.
“When?”
“A lot.”
“What about?”
“Us.”
Victor kept his voice calm.
“What did you hear?”
Oliver looked frightened.
“You won’t be mad?”
“Not at you.”
The boy swallowed.
“One time Mom said, ‘Stop telling my boys I’m sick.’”
Victor felt cold.
“When was that?”
“Before summer.”
Claire died in August.
“How long before?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you remember where?”
“Kitchen.”
“What did Margaret say?”
Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember.
“She said Mom was being irresponsible.”
“About what?”
“Driving.”
Claire had complained of migraines.
Maybe Margaret had been worried.
“What else?”
Oliver opened his eyes.
“Aunt Margaret said if Mom got worse, she should let someone else handle us.”
Victor’s throat tightened.
“And Mom?”
“She got really mad.”
“What did she say?”
Oliver whispered it.
“She said, ‘You are my sister-in-law, Margaret. You are not their mother.’”
Victor closed his eyes.
That explained so much.
Margaret’s grief.
Her jealousy.
Her need.
Still, it did not prove violence.
Victor kissed Oliver’s forehead.
“I’m staying home tomorrow.”
The boy’s eyes widened.
“No office?”
“No office.”
“No airport?”
“No airport.”
“Promise?”
Victor hesitated only because promises frightened him now.
Then he held out his hand.
“Promise.”
Oliver grabbed it.
The simplicity of that trust almost destroyed him.
Downstairs, Andrew was waiting with Elena.
Security remained outside.
Victor poured water.
No whiskey.
He did not trust himself with whiskey.
Elena sat near the fireplace.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I’m working.”
“No, you’re not.”
She blinked.
“You’re off duty.”
A tiny smile appeared.
“I don’t know whether that was kindness or an order.”
“Both.”
Andrew watched them.
“Claire would like her.”
Victor’s eyes hardened.
“Do not.”
Andrew nodded.
“Fair.”
Victor sat across from him.
“Tell me everything about Margaret.”
Andrew looked exhausted.
“There isn’t one dramatic secret.”
“I didn’t ask for drama.”
“She was lonely.”
Victor waited.
“She loved Claire. Then resented her. Then felt guilty for resenting her. Then loved the boys and started needing them to need her.”
Victor thought of Margaret after Claire’s funeral.
She had practically moved into the house.
At the time, Victor had been grateful.
He had signed travel approvals.
Given her access.
Asked her to “handle everything.”
Maybe those words became permission in her mind.
Not legal permission.
Emotional permission.
“You helped her move money.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was broke.”
Victor laughed bitterly.
“Always the same answer.”
Andrew accepted it.
“I convinced myself it was temporary. She said she’d replace everything.”
“With my money.”
“Yes.”
“How did she think I wouldn’t notice?”
“You didn’t.”
The truth landed.
Victor had accountants.
Managers.
Assistants.
Layer upon layer of people whose job was to stop him from having to notice details.
He thought wealth gave him control.
Instead, it sometimes bought distance.
Elena spoke quietly.
“Mr. Hale.”
“Victor.”
She looked surprised.
“Victor, there’s something I haven’t told you.”
He waited.
“Margaret offered me money to leave.”
Andrew looked at her.
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand.”
Victor’s face hardened.
“For what?”
“She said the children needed a clean separation.”
“Did she threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did you take it?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Elena’s eyes sharpened.
“You were in Dubai.”
“London.”
“That rather proves my point.”
Victor almost argued.
Then didn’t.
“What exactly did she say?”
“That attachment becomes confusion. That Oliver was emotionally dependent on me. That Daniel’s behavior toward her had changed because of me.”
“And?”
“She said if I cared about the boys, I’d disappear before they mistook affection for family.”
Victor looked toward the staircase.
“What did you say?”
“That disappearing was already something they had experienced enough.”
He absorbed that.
Andrew muttered, “Ouch.”
Victor shot him a look.
Elena continued.
“She didn’t like the answer.”
“Did she mention Westbridge?”
“Yes.”
Victor leaned forward.
“She said Oliver would be going there once you signed.”
“But I hadn’t signed.”
“I know that now.”
“When did she say it?”
“Two weeks ago.”
Before the forged application.
Victor stood.
Margaret had planned this.
Not impulsively.
Not after a bad argument.
She had been restructuring the boys’ lives around authority Victor never gave her.
His phone rang.
Martin.
“Victor, we located Margaret.”
“Where?”
“St. Vincent’s Hospital.”
Victor’s anger vanished.
“What happened?”
“She checked herself into the emergency department about forty minutes ago.”
“Why?”
“Chest pain.”
Victor closed his eyes.
Despite everything, fear surged.
She was his sister.
“Is she stable?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m going.”
Andrew stood.
Victor pointed.
“You’re staying.”
Elena rose.
“I’ll stay with the boys.”
Victor grabbed his coat.
Then Martin said, “There’s more.”
Victor stopped.
“The investigator spoke to Margaret briefly before doctors took her back.”
“And?”
“She asked for you.”
Victor’s chest tightened.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“She said she knows who the witness was.”
Victor gripped the phone.
“Who?”
“She refused to tell anyone but you.”
Victor was already moving toward the door.
At the hospital, Margaret lay in a curtained room attached to monitors.
She looked smaller without makeup.
Older.
Human.
Victor stopped at the foot of the bed.
“You scared me.”
Margaret laughed weakly.
“I forged your signature, stole your authority, and lied about your employee, but chest pain is what scares you?”
“You’re my sister.”
Her eyes filled.
“You always do that.”
“What?”
“Make it impossible to hate you properly.”
Victor pulled up a chair.
“Doctors?”
“Panic attack.”
He nodded.
“Martin said you wanted to talk.”
Margaret looked toward the curtain.
“Close it.”
He did.
When he returned, she was crying.
“I didn’t kill Claire.”
“I know.”
Her eyes snapped toward him.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because you’re many things, Margaret. You’re not a murderer.”
A sob escaped her.
Victor waited.
“I followed her.”
“I know.”
“She called me from the clinic.”
“Why?”
“She’d found the transfers.”
Victor said nothing.
“She was furious. She said she was telling you that night. She said Andrew and I had betrayed her.”
“You had.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I begged her to wait.”
“Why?”
“Because if she told you, I thought I’d lose everything.”
“What was everything?”
Margaret looked at him.
“You.”
Victor’s anger softened but did not disappear.
“The boys.”
She cried harder.
“My place.”
“You thought your place depended on hiding theft?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“You forged documents months later. You were thinking then.”
Her face hardened with shame.
“Yes.”
Victor leaned closer.
“Who saw you arguing with Claire?”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Thomas Reed.”
Claire’s driver.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“He retired.”
“No.”
Victor frowned.
“What?”
Margaret opened her eyes.
“He didn’t retire.”
“Then where did he go?”
“He was paid to disappear.”
Victor became still.
“By whom?”
Margaret shook her head.
“I thought Andrew arranged it.”
“He says he didn’t.”
“Then I don’t know.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
“From Morrow?”
“Yes.”
Victor stood.
“Why would someone pay Claire’s driver?”
Margaret’s voice dropped.
“Because Thomas saw where Claire went after she left me.”
Victor stared.
“She didn’t go straight to the luncheon?”
“No.”
“Where?”
Margaret began to answer.
Then the curtain opened.
A nurse stepped in holding Victor’s phone.
“Mr. Hale?”
He had left it at the nurses’ desk after being asked to silence it.
“There’s an urgent call for you. They said it concerns your son Daniel.”
Victor’s blood turned cold.
He took the phone.
“Hello?”
Elena was breathing hard.
“Victor, Daniel is gone.”
His grip tightened.
“What?”
“He left a note.”
“What does it say?”
Elena hesitated.
May you like
Then read it.
“I’m going to find Thomas Reed. Don’t follow me.”
