Chapter 8 - Margaret’s Last SecretSophie did not sleep.
Alexander refused to view it at the mansion.
Too many compromised staff.
Too many memories.
The footage was grainy.
Katherine sat in front of a camera at Starling House.
Alexander had forgotten how young she had been.
Thirty-two.
Younger than he was now.
She looked directly into the lens.
“My name is Katherine Reed. I am recording this because I no longer know who I can trust.”
Alexander’s hand tightened around the table.
Sophie sat beside him.
Marcus stood behind them.
Evelyn had joined by video call.
Charles was not invited.
Katherine explained the fraud.
Charles had moved foundation funds illegally during a financial crisis.
But she believed Richard Vale had designed the scheme.
Then came the deeper revelation.
Richard had continued moving money even after Charles demanded it stop.
Millions became tens of millions.
When Katherine discovered the accounts, Richard threatened her.
“He said Charles would lose everything if I exposed this.”
Alexander stared at the screen.
Then Katherine said:
“I believe Charles is guilty of cowardice and fraud. I do not believe he understands what Richard has become.”
Alexander looked away.
It was not forgiveness.
But it complicated everything.
Katherine continued.
“If I can leave safely, I will take Alexander to my sister. Once we are away, I will turn the evidence over to federal authorities.”
The tape shifted.
Katherine looked toward a sound behind the camera.
Then she whispered:
“If something happens to me, Richard Vale is responsible.”
The screen went black.
Nobody spoke.
Marcus finally said, “This is powerful, but it isn’t proof he killed her.”
Alexander nodded.
“We need the accident file.”
Marcus had already requested archived records.
What they found was troubling.
Katherine’s car brakes had been inspected after the crash.
No mechanical failure was reported.
But the mechanic who conducted the inspection was employed by a company partially owned by a Vale-controlled holding company.
The mechanic had died nine years later.
The original brake assembly disappeared from evidence.
Alexander felt as if he were standing at the edge of something bottomless.
His mother’s death might not have been an accident.
And his father’s corruption had placed her in danger.
Sophie found him alone that evening on the terrace.
He wore the blue-bird shirt again.
“You’re going to wear that until it falls apart, aren’t you?”
He looked down.
“Possibly.”
She stood beside him.
The Manhattan skyline glowed.
For once, Alexander did not feel comforted by it.
“I spent my whole life trying to become unlike my father,” he said.
Sophie waited.
“I thought if I worked harder, needed less, trusted nobody, I could become untouchable.”
“That sounds exactly like something your father might believe.”
Alexander looked at her.
She winced.
“Sorry.”
“No. You’re right.”
A breeze moved through Sophie’s hair.
“My mother used to say armor is useful until you forget how to take it off.”
“Was she always philosophical?”
“Mostly when she was tired of me.”
Alexander smiled faintly.
“What was she like?”
“Loud. Funny. Terrible cook.”
“You miss her.”
“Every day.”
Alexander looked toward the windows.
Inside, Lily sat on the carpet arranging toy animals into what she called a business meeting.
“She looks like you.”
“Only when she’s behaving.”
They laughed.
Then their eyes met.
The moment lingered.
Sophie looked away first.
“Alexander…”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
She turned toward him.
“You’re my employer.”
“That can change.”
Her breath caught.
He realized how the words sounded.
“I mean your employment.”
“That did not improve it.”
He actually laughed.
Sophie covered a smile.
For a few seconds, the nightmare disappeared.
Then Marcus stepped onto the terrace.
“Sorry.”
Alexander straightened.
“What?”
“We found Mrs. Delaney.”
“Where?”
“Hospital in Queens.”
Sophie’s smile vanished.
“What happened?”
“Car accident.”
Alexander stared.
“Accident?”
Marcus shook his head.
“Not likely.”
They went immediately.
Mrs. Delaney had a broken arm, fractured ribs, and bruising around her throat.
She cried when she saw Alexander.
“I’m sorry.”
Marcus asked security to leave them alone.
Alexander stood beside her bed.
“Why did you disable the cameras?”
“Richard paid me.”
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand.”
Sophie stared at her.
Mrs. Delaney began crying harder.
“My son owes money. I thought I could fix it.”
“What did Richard want?”
“The key.”
“Why?”
“He said Margaret Carter stole property from your family.”
Sophie’s jaw tightened.
Mrs. Delaney looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
“What happened after you gave it to him?”
“He asked me where the second key was.”
Alexander and Sophie exchanged a glance.
“What second key?”
“I said I didn’t know.”
“Then?”
“He became angry.”
“Did he attack you?”
Mrs. Delaney nodded.
“He said I had become a liability.”
Alexander felt cold.
“Did he say what the keys opened?”
“One opened Katherine’s writing box.”
“And the other?”
Mrs. Delaney swallowed.
“A bank deposit box.”
Sophie’s eyes widened.
“Where?”
“Boston.”
“Which bank?”
Mrs. Delaney whispered the name.
Marcus immediately stepped outside to make calls.
Alexander leaned closer.
“Why didn’t Richard simply go to the bank?”
“The box isn’t in his name.”
“Whose name?”
Mrs. Delaney looked toward Sophie.
“Margaret Carter.”
Sophie went still.
Her grandmother had been dead for years.
Mrs. Delaney continued.
“There’s a co-owner.”
Alexander asked, “Who?”
She answered.
“Katherine Reed.”
The room went quiet.
Both women were dead.
But the bank had informed Marcus of something strange.
Someone had accessed that deposit box eleven years ago.
Using valid identification.
The name on the access record was impossible.
Margaret Carter.
May you like
Sophie’s grandmother.
Five years after Margaret was supposedly buried.
