Chapter 3 - The Photograph in the Music Box
"Don't open that envelope," Arthur said.
Damon stepped between him and Elena.
Arthur lifted both hands.
"I'm not here to hurt anyone."
"Then you chose an unusual entrance."
"I followed you."
"That doesn't improve it."
Elena stared at the photograph in Arthur's hand.
"What do you know about my grandmother?"
Arthur's expression softened.
"More than you want to know."
"Try me."
Arthur looked at Damon.
"This is family business."
Elena laughed once.
"Apparently it's my family too."
Arthur closed his eyes.
For the first time, he looked old.
Not powerful.
Not polished.
Old.
"Rosalind Mercer worked for the Kesslers."
"As what?" Damon asked.
"Housekeeper. Later, Dorothy's personal assistant."
"And?"
"And her closest friend."
Elena looked at the envelope.
"Why was my mother involved?"
Arthur didn't answer.
Damon picked up the envelope.
Arthur moved.
"Don't."
Damon stared at him.
Arthur stopped.
Damon opened it.
Inside was a letter written in Dorothy's unmistakable handwriting.
Margaret,
If you are reading this, then Rose finally decided you were old enough to know why we sent you away.
Damon stopped.
Elena whispered, "Keep reading."
The letter described a dispute inside the Kessler family.
Damon's grandfather, Conrad, had created a charitable trust intended to protect several waterfront neighborhoods from aggressive redevelopment.
Arthur had been a young attorney working on the trust.
Rosalind discovered someone had secretly altered documents.
If the altered version became valid, thousands of acres would eventually pass into private development.
Rosalind told Dorothy.
Dorothy confronted Conrad.
Before they could expose what happened, Rosalind began receiving threats.
Dorothy helped her disappear.
Margaret, Rosalind's young daughter, was given the surname Vale.
Damon lowered the letter.
"Who changed the documents?"
Arthur looked away.
"The letter doesn't say," Elena whispered.
"No," Damon said. "But Arthur knows."
Arthur's face tightened.
"I suspected."
"Who?"
"Your grandfather's business partner."
"Name."
Arthur hesitated.
Then footsteps sounded upstairs.
All three froze.
Damon looked toward the ceiling.
Someone else was inside the supposedly empty house.
Arthur whispered, "We need to leave."
"Who followed you?"
"I don't know."
A floorboard groaned.
Closer.
Elena grabbed the letter.
Damon moved toward the door.
A shadow crossed the hallway.
Then a woman's voice said:
"Damon?"
He recognized it.
Celeste Whitmore.
Arthur's daughter stepped into view.
She looked frightened.
"Dad, you need to tell him."
Arthur went pale.
"Celeste."
"Tell me what?" Damon asked.
Celeste held up a leather folder.
"I found this in his safe."
Arthur stared at her.
"What did you do?"
"What you should have done years ago."
She handed the folder to Damon.
Inside was a copy of the original trust.
A signature had been crossed out.
Another inserted.
Damon read the replacement name.
His stomach dropped.
It wasn't Arthur.
It wasn't Rosalind.
It was someone whose family still had influence over the Kessler empire.
Someone Damon had trusted since childhood.
Silas Reyes.
No.
Not Silas himself.
His father.
Gabriel Reyes.
Damon looked up.
Arthur whispered, "Now you understand why I wanted that buried."
Damon didn't.
Not yet.
But then his phone vibrated.
Silas.
One message.
I FOUND SOMETHING ABOUT MY FATHER.
Damon opened the attachment.
It was a photograph.
Gabriel Reyes stood beside Rosalind Mercer.
And someone had written four words across the bottom:
HE WAS TRYING TO HELP.
Damon looked at Arthur.
"Then who was he protecting her from?"
Arthur opened his mouth.
Before he could answer, Elena's phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her face drained of color.
"Who is it?" Damon asked.
Elena slowly turned the phone toward him.
The caller ID displayed a name she had not seen since her mother's funeral.
May you like
MARGARET VALE.
Her dead mother was calling.
