Chapter 5 - Twenty Thousand Dollars and a Lie
Angela did not go alone.
She also did not tell Charlie she was leaving.
At eleven thirty that night, she changed out of the wedding gown and borrowed jeans and a sweater from Jennifer.
At eleven forty-five, she slipped through the hospital's service entrance.
At eleven forty-six, Charlie's black sedan rolled to the curb.
The passenger window lowered.
“Get in.”
Angela stared.
“How?”
“You're terrible at sneaking away.”
“I've played three criminals.”
“Were any successful?”
“One survived until episode four.”
Charlie opened the door.
Angela got in.
Daniel followed in another car with private security.
The address led them north of Manhattan to a wooded property near the Hudson.
There should have been ruins.
Instead there was a restored stone house.
No lights.
Charlie parked beyond the gate.
“You stay here.”
Angela looked at him.
“Absolutely not.”
“The threat was against me.”
“And the woman in the photograph might be my mother.”
They entered together.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, dust covered most surfaces.
But someone had recently walked through it.
Footprints crossed the floor.
Angela followed them to a study.
On the desk sat the same envelope Martin had given her that morning.
Twenty thousand dollars.
Every bill was still there.
Angela stared.
“I gave this money to Jennifer.”
Charlie touched the envelope.
“This isn't yours.”
“What?”
“The serial numbers.”
She looked at him.
“You memorized my cash?”
“No. Martin's envelope had a bank strap from Henderson Private.”
Charlie removed one stack.
A note rested underneath.
THE MONEY WAS NEVER THE PAYMENT.
Angela unfolded it.
The handwriting was feminine.
The payment was getting you to the altar.
The marriage was the key.
If you are reading this, Martin failed to keep you ignorant.
Angela's heart pounded.
“Who wrote this?”
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
Charlie looked toward the ceiling.
Angela whispered, “Someone's here.”
They climbed the staircase.
One room stood open.
Inside was a projector.
Charlie switched it on.
A woman appeared on the wall.
Eleanor.
Older.
Alive.
Angela knew before she spoke.
“My name is Eleanor Vale. If Angela is watching this, then my daughter has finally found the house.”
Angela stopped breathing.
Eleanor explained that she had survived.
She had hidden because evidence against the Henderson and Vale patriarchs implicated powerful people.
She had watched Angela from a distance.
Every school play.
Every graduation.
Every failed audition.
Angela's eyes burned.
“You watched me struggle?”
The recording continued.
“I wanted to come home a thousand times.”
Angela looked away.
Charlie remained beside her without touching her.
“I created the Rose Trust so nobody could steal what belonged to you. But I made one mistake. I believed the Henderson heir you married would be someone you chose.”
Angela looked at Charlie.
The recording continued.
“Everett Henderson promised his firstborn son would protect the trust until you were old enough to decide.”
Charlie whispered, “My father.”
“Yes,” Eleanor said on the recording, almost as though answering him. “Charlie, if you're there, your father kept his promise.”
Charlie went still.
“He knew?”
“He knew Angela's name. He knew what she represented. But he never knew where Susan took her.”
Angela suddenly understood.
Charlie had been chosen before he knew her.
But she had not been chosen as his bride.
They had been positioned as guardians of the same secret.
The screen flickered.
Eleanor leaned toward the camera.
“Martin was instructed to contact Angela and tell her everything. He was never instructed to deceive her.”
Angela's anger sharpened.
“Then why did he?”
The recording answered.
“Because Martin believes the trust belongs to him.”
Footsteps sounded downstairs.
Charlie switched off the projector.
Darkness.
A man's voice called from below.
“Angela?”
Martin.
Charlie whispered, “Stay behind me.”
“No.”
“Just once, please consider—”
A gunshot exploded downstairs.
Angela flinched.
Charlie pulled her against the wall.
Another shot.
Then silence.
Daniel's voice shouted outside.
“Angela!”
They ran downstairs.
Martin lay near the front door.
Blood spread across his shoulder.
Daniel knelt beside him.
“He's alive.”
Angela crouched.
“Who shot you?”
Martin's lips moved.
She leaned closer.
“Not... about money.”
“What?”
He gripped her wrist.
“The marriage.”
“What about it?”
“Someone needed you married before midnight.”
“Why?”
Martin looked at Charlie.
“Because once the trust activates, one person loses everything.”
“Who?”
Martin tried to answer.
The lights went out.
Glass shattered behind them.
Charlie pulled Angela down.
Daniel shouted for security.
When emergency lights flickered on, Martin was unconscious.
But a door at the back of the house stood open.
Angela saw someone disappearing into the trees.
A woman.
Silver dress.
Angela ran to the doorway.
“Stop!”
May you like
The woman turned just enough for Angela to see her face.
Margaret Henderson.
