Chapter 2 - The Man at the Gate
Charles was already moving before Marcus finished speaking.
"Lock the interior doors."
Sofia stood.
Eleanor grabbed her wrist.
"Don't."
Charles turned.
His mother was not speaking to Sofia.
She was speaking to him.
"Don't go to that gate."
"Why?"
Eleanor looked terrified.
Charles had seen his mother frightened before.
When he was fourteen and came home bleeding after his first real fight.
When his father suffered his first heart attack.
When police raided the Vance warehouse twelve years earlier.
But this was different.
This looked like recognition.
"Mom."
She shook her head.
"Send him away."
Charles stepped closer.
"Who is he?"
"I don't know."
"That's not true."
Sofia quietly moved between them.
"Mr. Vance."
Charles looked at her.
"This isn't your concern."
"Maybe not. But yelling at her isn't going to make her answer faster."
His eyes narrowed.
Eleanor squeezed Sofia's hand.
That small gesture stopped him.
Twenty-two days.
That was all it had taken for his mother to trust this woman enough to reach for her when frightened.
Charles hated that part of him envied it.
He put his phone to his ear.
"Marcus."
"Yeah."
"Description."
"Male. Sixties. Gray sedan. No visible weapon."
"Name?"
"Says it's Samuel Crane."
Eleanor inhaled sharply.
Charles heard it.
So did Sofia.
He looked at his mother.
"You know him."
Eleanor whispered, "I knew him."
Charles ended the call.
"Who is Samuel Crane?"
His mother looked toward the photograph on the coffee table.
The Atlantic City picture.
Charles followed her gaze.
His father, Anthony Vance, stood beside Eleanor.
But there had always been a third person in the original photograph.
Charles remembered because as a child he once asked why part of the picture had been cut away.
His father told him the film had been damaged.
Charles picked up the photograph.
The right edge was uneven.
Cut.
Not damaged.
"Was he in this picture?"
Eleanor didn't answer.
That was enough.
Sofia looked between them.
Charles said, "Stay here."
He left before either woman could object.
Marcus met him near the foyer.
Forty-two, broad-shouldered, former Marine, Marcus Hale had been Charles's closest security officer for nine years.
"I don't like it," Marcus said.
"Neither do I."
"Want me to remove him?"
"No."
Charles approached the front monitor.
A man stood outside the iron gates.
Sixty-something.
Gray hair.
Dark overcoat despite the warm afternoon.
He held nothing except a small wooden box.
Charles zoomed in.
There was a V carved into the lid.
"Open the outer gate," Charles said.
Marcus frowned.
"Boss."
"Only the outer gate."
The man entered.
He stopped twenty feet from the front door.
Charles stepped outside.
Marcus remained three paces behind.
Samuel Crane looked at Charles for several seconds.
"You look like Anthony."
Charles didn't react.
"You said my father sent you."
"Not exactly."
Charles's voice hardened.
"Choose your next sentence carefully."
Samuel smiled faintly.
"That definitely came from your father."
"Why are you here?"
Samuel held up the box.
"Because Eleanor opened the envelope."
Charles's gaze sharpened.
"How would you know that?"
"I didn't."
Samuel glanced toward an upstairs window.
"But if she hadn't, you wouldn't be standing here."
Charles moved closer.
"Who are you?"
"Your father's oldest friend."
"My father never mentioned you."
"No. He wouldn't."
"Why?"
Samuel's smile disappeared.
"Because Anthony Vance spent thirty years pretending I was dead."
Marcus shifted behind Charles.
Samuel noticed.
"Relax. If I wanted to hurt him, I wouldn't have knocked."
Charles held out his hand.
"The box."
Samuel hesitated.
Then passed it over.
Charles opened it.
Inside rested a brass key.
Nothing else.
He lifted it.
"What does it open?"
"Something your father believed you would destroy if you found it too young."
Charles closed the box.
"My patience."
"Your father said that too."
"You seem remarkably comfortable for a man standing outside my house making vague statements."
"I've spent most of my life afraid of worse men than you."
Charles stepped closer until only a foot separated them.
"Worse?"
Samuel looked directly into his eyes.
"Your father."
The words hit a nerve.
Charles had spent his childhood hearing the opposite.
Anthony Vance had been ruthless in business, yes.
Feared.
Connected.
Dangerous.
But at home he had been controlled.
Protective.
Almost gentle with Eleanor.
Charles idolized him.
He had built his adult life around rules Anthony taught him.
Family first.
Never betray trust.
Never make a threat you cannot finish.
Never let enemies see what you love.
Samuel seemed to read his face.
"You didn't know him."
Charles's jaw tightened.
"You've got five seconds."
Samuel nodded toward the key.
"Ask Eleanor about Bellweather."
Charles stopped.
The name meant nothing.
Samuel continued.
"Then ask her why your father paid the same woman every month for twenty-seven years."
Charles's eyes narrowed.
"What woman?"
"Maria Reyes."
Silence.
Behind Charles, Marcus swore softly.
Charles didn't move.
Reyes.
Sofia Reyes.
He turned toward the mansion.
Samuel said, "Now you understand why I came."
Charles looked back.
"Are you saying Sofia knew my father?"
"I'm saying Anthony knew someone in her family."
"Which one?"
Samuel's eyes drifted toward the sitting-room windows.
"Ask Sofia."
Charles shoved the box into Marcus's hand.
"Keep him here."
"Charles—"
"Don't let him leave."
He walked inside.
Fast.
By the time he reached the sitting room, Sofia was standing near the sofa.
Eleanor looked devastated.
Charles held up the brass key.
"Who is Maria Reyes?"
Sofia's face changed.
There.
Recognition.
Eleanor whispered, "Charles, please."
He ignored her.
"Sofia."
Sofia swallowed.
"My mother."
The room became completely silent.
Charles stared.
"Your mother knew my father?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"I don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I didn't know until recently."
"When?"
She looked at Eleanor.
Charles noticed.
"Do not look at her. Look at me."
Sofia's eyes flashed.
"I'm looking at you."
"Then answer."
"Two months ago."
"Before you started working here."
"Yes."
Charles laughed once without humor.
"So you came here because of my father."
Sofia shook her head.
"No."
"You just happen to be the daughter of a woman my father secretly paid for twenty-seven years?"
"I didn't know about the money."
"But you knew they had a connection."
"Yes."
"And you said nothing."
Sofia looked hurt.
That irritated him more.
"Why should I have told you?"
"Because you entered my home using a false reason."
"I needed work."
"Was that the only reason?"
She remained silent.
There it was.
Charles nodded.
"You're fired."
Eleanor stood.
"No."
"Mom."
"You heard me."
"This woman lied to us."
"She didn't lie to me."
Charles looked at her.
Eleanor's face crumpled.
"Because I already knew."
Sofia closed her eyes.
Charles felt something cold settle in his chest.
"You knew who she was?"
"Yes."
"From the beginning?"
Eleanor nodded.
He looked at Sofia.
Then his mother.
The laughter from fifteen minutes ago suddenly seemed far away.
"A setup."
"No," Eleanor said.
"What would you call it?"
"Something your father started."
Charles held up the key.
"Bellweather."
His mother's face drained of color.
Sofia whispered, "Samuel told you."
"Samuel is outside."
Eleanor gripped the sofa.
"You let him in?"
"He isn't in the house."
"Charles, you need to send him away."
"Not until I get answers."
"You don't understand."
"No, I don't. Apparently everyone else has been having conversations about my family except me."
Eleanor walked toward him.
"Your father did terrible things trying to protect this family."
"That's convenient. He can't defend himself."
"I'm not accusing him."
"Sounds like you are."
"I'm trying to save you from repeating him."
That stopped Charles.
Sofia watched quietly.
Eleanor touched his arm.
"Bellweather was a house."
"Where?"
"Outside Philadelphia."
"What was there?"
Eleanor's voice became smaller.
"People your father promised to protect."
Charles looked at the key.
"What does this open?"
"I don't know."
"Mom."
"I swear."
He studied her.
She was telling the truth.
Charles turned to Sofia.
"Your mother."
Sofia's eyes watered.
"She worked at Bellweather."
"As what?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know much."
"My mother died when I was sixteen."
The anger in Charles softened a fraction.
Sofia continued.
"Two months ago, I was cleaning out my grandmother's apartment after she passed. I found a box of my mother's things. Your father's name was everywhere."
"Letters?"
"Receipts. Photos. Notes."
"Why come here?"
Sofia hesitated.
"Because there was a letter addressed to me."
"What did it say?"
"That if Eleanor Vance was still alive, I should find her."
Charles turned to his mother.
Eleanor's hand covered her mouth.
"Did you know about the letter?"
"No."
Sofia looked at Eleanor.
"My mother wrote that you would tell me what happened at Bellweather."
Eleanor backed away.
"No."
"Mrs. Vance—"
"No."
Her voice broke.
Charles moved toward her.
"Mom."
Eleanor shook her head.
"I promised Anthony."
"He is dead."
"Promises don't die when people do."
Charles lowered his voice.
"What happened there?"
Eleanor looked at Sofia.
Then at Charles.
"You both deserve the truth."
She took a breath.
"But not here."
Charles frowned.
"Why?"
"Because if Samuel Crane really came back, then someone else knows the envelope was opened."
Before Charles could answer, Marcus rushed into the room.
His gun was drawn.
Charles immediately turned.
"What?"
"Samuel's gone."
"How?"
"Don't know. Cameras glitched for eleven seconds."
Charles's expression darkened.
Marcus held something out.
A folded piece of paper.
"He left this on the hood of my car."
Charles opened it.
Four words.
ASK SOFIA ABOUT ROOM 17.
Charles slowly raised his eyes.
Sofia had already seen the note.
Her lips parted.
"What is Room 17?" he asked.
She backed away.
"Sofia."
Her face had gone white.
"I never told anyone about that."
"About what?"
She reached into the pocket of her pink uniform.
Her trembling fingers pulled out a small brass hotel key tag.
Stamped into the metal were two numbers.
Charles stared at it.
Sofia whispered, "I found this sewn inside my mother's coat."
May you like
Then the sitting-room lights went out.
A second later, someone knocked from inside Charles's locked office.
