Chapter 3 - The Diamond Lily
By breakfast, I knew Sophie was not the thief.
By lunch, I knew somebody wanted her to become one.
The fingerprints on the forged trust papers belonged to Damian, Vivian, and a paralegal named Eric Nolan.
None belonged to Sophie.
I could have cleared her immediately.
Instead, with Sophie's reluctant agreement, we let Vivian believe the accusation was working.
That required trust.
Sophie had very little of it left for me.
“You're asking me to let everyone think I stole from your family.”
“For forty-eight hours.”
“You say that like forty-eight hours is nothing.”
“It isn't.”
“People are whispering when I walk past.”
“I know.”
“Lucia cried because she thinks this is her fault.”
“I know.”
Sophie folded her arms.
We stood in the estate library.
She had changed the bandage on her elbow herself.
“I don't think you do.”
That irritated me because it was probably true.
I solved problems with leverage.
Sophie experienced them as bruises.
“I'll make it right.”
“How?”
“I haven't decided.”
“That's reassuring.”
I looked at her.
She looked right back.
Most people broke eye contact first.
Sophie didn't.
My mother liked her for reasons I was beginning to understand.
Lucia entered in her wheelchair.
“Stop interrogating my Sophie.”
“I am not interrogating her.”
“You have your interrogation face.”
“I have one face.”
Sophie laughed.
It surprised all three of us.
Lucia smiled.
For the first time since I had returned, the room felt almost normal.
Then Lucia reached for Sophie's hand.
“I know you didn't steal anything.”
Sophie's smile disappeared.
“How?”
“Because you returned forty dollars you found in my coat pocket last Christmas.”
“That was yours.”
“Exactly.”
Lucia looked at me.
“And because my son looks murderous when someone lies to him. He isn't looking at you that way.”
“I always look murderous.”
“Not helping.”
Sophie laughed again.
The sound did something inconvenient to me.
I ignored it.
Marco entered.
“We found Nolan.”
The paralegal had withdrawn eighty thousand dollars over six months.
Deposits matched transfers from a shell corporation tied to Damian.
More importantly, Nolan had accessed my estate planning files.
“Bring him in,” I said.
“Already on his way.”
Nolan lasted eleven minutes.
He had expected Damian to protect him.
When he learned federal investigators were involved, loyalty evaporated.
“Vivian wanted contingency documents,” he said.
“What kind?”
“Trust amendments. Medical proxies. Spousal succession.”
“And?”
He swallowed.
“A declaration of incapacity.”
“For whom?”
“You.”
Sophie stood near the door.
Her expression changed.
I remained still.
“Anything else?”
Nolan looked down.
“A death certificate template.”
Marco stopped writing.
“For whom?” I repeated.
Nolan whispered, “You.”
The room became very quiet.
Someone had prepared paperwork for my death before my wedding.
“Was there a date?”
“No.”
“Cause?”
“Blank.”
“Physician?”
He hesitated.
“There was a name.”
“Whose?”
Before he could answer, the library doors opened.
Vivian walked in.
Everyone froze.
She looked at Nolan.
Then me.
For one dangerous second, I thought the game was over.
But Vivian smiled.
“Massimo!”
She ran into my arms.
I embraced her.
Over her shoulder, I saw Sophie watching.
There was disgust in her eyes.
I deserved it.
“My flight ended early,” I said.
Vivian kissed my cheek.
“I missed you.”
“Did you?”
“Terribly.”
She glanced toward Nolan.
“What is he doing here?”
“Trust review.”
Her body stiffened.
Only slightly.
“For the wedding?”
“For the future.”
She relaxed.
“Of course.”
Then she noticed Sophie.
Her expression sharpened.
“Why is she still here?”
“Because I haven't decided what to do about the theft.”
Vivian touched my chest.
“She betrayed you.”
“I handle betrayal carefully.”
The words made Nolan go pale.
Vivian didn't notice.
She smiled.
“I know.”
That evening, I ate dinner with my future murderer.
Vivian discussed flowers.
Damian discussed wine.
Lucia barely touched her food.
Sophie served coffee because she insisted changing her routine would look suspicious.
When she reached me, our eyes met.
For half a second.
That was enough.
Vivian saw it.
Later, security recorded her cornering Sophie in the pantry.
“Stay away from Massimo.”
Sophie kept arranging cups.
“I work for him.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don't.”
Vivian leaned close.
“Men like Massimo don't marry women like you.”
Sophie stopped.
“I don't want Massimo.”
I should not have cared.
I did.
Vivian smiled.
“Good.”
Sophie turned.
“But I'm beginning to understand why he shouldn't marry you.”
Vivian raised her hand.
Sophie caught her wrist.
“Not again.”
Vivian stared at her.
Then smiled.
“You'll be gone before the wedding.”
She left.
Sophie released a slow breath.
My phone rang.
Marco.
“We got the doctor's name from Nolan.”
I stepped away from the monitor.
“Who?”
“Dr. Leonard Voss.”
I knew him.
He had treated my father before his death.
“He retired.”
“Three years ago.”
“Find him.”
“We did.”
Marco's voice changed.
“He's dead.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
I frowned.
“Then who signed the paperwork?”
“That's the problem.”
A document arrived on my encrypted phone.
I opened it.
The physician signature read LEONARD VOSS.
Below it was yesterday's date.
May you like
And beneath that was a certification stating I had died at 3:40 a.m.
Tomorrow morning.
