Chapter 2
Vivienne demanded a lawyer before Marco had even finished closing the drawing-room doors.
That interested me.
An innocent person might have demanded an apology.
Vivienne demanded legal protection.
“I’m calling Leonard,” she snapped.
Leonard Price was her family attorney.
“You can call whoever you want,” I said. “You’re not under arrest.”
“Then open the gate.”
“No.”
Her eyes flashed.
“You just said I’m not a prisoner.”
“You’re a guest inside a private residence where possible theft has been discovered. The police are being contacted.”
That shut her up.
For three seconds.
Then she smiled.
“You wouldn’t.”
I took out my phone.
Marco touched my elbow.
“Before you call, there’s something you should see.”
His expression was wrong.
Marco rarely looked unsettled.
“What?”
“Security footage.”
Vivienne’s head turned.
Too fast.
I noticed.
So did Marco.
“From when?” I asked.
“The night before Sofia collapsed.”
Vivienne laughed.
“This is insane.”
I ignored her.
“Where?”
“Security office.”
Rosie was still beside me.
I looked at housekeeper Elena Ruiz.
“Take Rosie upstairs.”
Rosie immediately grabbed my trouser leg.
“No.”
My chest tightened.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
“She’ll come.”
Her eyes were fixed on Vivienne.
Vivienne scoffed.
“For heaven’s sake.”
Rosie flinched again.
I turned on Vivienne.
“Say another word to her like that, and you’ll wait for the police outside in the rain.”
The room went silent.
Vivienne’s mouth opened.
Then closed.
Elena carried Rosie upstairs.
Marco and I headed toward the security office.
Vivienne followed.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“If you’re watching footage involving me, I’m coming.”
That admission stopped me.
I turned slowly.
“You don’t even know whether the footage involves you.”
Color drained from her face.
She recovered quickly.
“I assumed.”
Marco opened the security-room door.
Three monitors glowed against the wall.
He pulled up archived footage.
“The cameras around the employee cottages store thirty days.”
Sofia had lived in a cottage near the east gardens.
Marco selected a timestamp.
November 2.
11:43 p.m.
The night before Sofia collapsed.
The image showed Sofia’s cottage.
Rain.
Darkness.
Then headlights.
A car entered the service road.
My stomach tightened.
A black Mercedes stopped beside Sofia’s cottage.
The driver stepped out.
Vivienne.
Nobody spoke.
On screen, she walked to Sofia’s door and knocked.
Sofia opened it wearing a robe.
Even without sound, the argument was obvious.
Sofia tried to close the door.
Vivienne pushed inside.
I looked at her.
She folded her arms.
“This proves nothing.”
“Why were you there?”
“She asked to speak with me.”
“About what?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You visited an employee at midnight and don’t remember why?”
“She was emotional.”
Marco fast-forwarded.
Twelve minutes passed.
Then Vivienne emerged.
She was carrying something.
A wooden box.
I felt ice move through my veins.
Rosie’s words returned.
Mommy’s wood box is gone.
Marco paused the image.
Vivienne’s face had become almost gray.
“What’s in your hand?” I asked.
“It could be anything.”
“It’s a box.”
“She gave it to me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
My anger sharpened.
“Stop lying.”
She stepped toward me.
“I am not lying.”
Marco zoomed in.
The video blurred slightly, but the object was unmistakable.
Dark wood.
Brass clasp.
Small carved flowers.
I remembered seeing it once in Sofia’s cottage after her husband died.
Rosie had been a baby.
Sofia kept photographs and jewelry inside.
Marco advanced the footage.
Vivienne placed the box in her car.
Then she returned to the cottage.
Seven minutes later, she emerged again.
This time empty-handed.
The following morning at 6:14, Sofia was found unconscious beside her kitchen table.
I looked at Marco.
“Who found her?”
“Maintenance gardener.”
“And nobody reviewed this footage?”
His jaw tightened.
“We were told her death was medical. There was no reason.”
He sounded ashamed.
I understood.
I had made the same assumption.
“What time did Vivienne leave?”
“12:21.”
“Anyone else enter?”
Marco shook his head.
“Not on camera.”
Vivienne suddenly walked toward the door.
Marco blocked her.
“Move.”
“No, ma’am.”
She turned on me.
“Damian, this has gone far enough.”
I stepped closer.
“What was in the box?”
“I told you. Sofia gave it to me.”
“Then where is it?”
“I threw it away.”
I stared at her.
“You threw away a dead woman’s personal possessions?”
“She told me to.”
“Why?”
“Because there were painful memories inside.”
I almost laughed.
The lie was terrible.
“Sofia kept photographs of her husband in that box.”
Vivienne blinked.
“You didn’t know that, did you?”
She said nothing.
I took out my phone.
This time I called the police.
While we waited, I asked Marco to search every room Vivienne had access to on the estate.
Not her body.
Not her purse.
Nothing illegal.
Just my property.
Vivienne called Leonard.
Her attorney arrived before the detectives.
That told me he lived closer than I remembered.
Or she had warned him earlier.
When Detective Lena Brooks entered my study, she carried herself with the patience of someone accustomed to wealthy people assuming rules could be negotiated.
I explained everything.
The ring.
Rosie.
The security footage.
Sofia’s death.
Detective Brooks listened without interrupting.
Then she asked Vivienne one question.
“Did Sofia Carter voluntarily give you the ring?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vivienne looked at Leonard.
He nodded.
“She wanted me to have it.”
I felt sick.
Detective Brooks remained calm.
“Why would she give you her wedding ring?”
Vivienne hesitated.
“She needed money.”
“You paid her?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Five thousand.”
“Cash?”
“Yes.”
“Receipt?”
“No.”
Detective Brooks looked toward me.
“Did Mrs. Carter have financial problems?”
“Not that I knew of.”
She turned back to Vivienne.
“And the wooden box?”
Vivienne’s fingers tightened around her purse.
“She gave me that too.”
“What was inside?”
“Personal things.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t remember.”
Detective Brooks leaned back.
“That’s unfortunate.”
Leonard intervened.
“My client has answered enough.”
The detective nodded.
“For tonight.”
Then she asked to speak with Rosie.
I refused at first.
“She’s three.”
“I know.”
“She just buried her mother.”
“I know that too.”
Her expression softened.
“But if she saw something important, I want a child specialist present before her memory gets influenced by adult conversations.”
That made sense.
I hated that it did.
While arrangements were made, I went upstairs.
Rosie was sitting on my library carpet with Elena.
Her stuffed rabbit rested in her lap.
When Elena left us alone, Rosie looked at me.
“Is Mommy’s ring coming back?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t know whether I could promise that.
I did anyway.
She nodded.
Then she reached inside the rabbit’s torn back seam.
“I have this.”
She pulled out a folded piece of paper.
My throat tightened.
“What is it?”
“Mommy said hide it.”
I unfolded it carefully.
It was a handwritten note.
Sofia’s handwriting.
I recognized it from shopping lists and household schedules.
Only five words were written.
If something happens, ask Damian.
Below them was a number.
A bank safe-deposit box number.
And beneath that, one final sentence.
Vivienne knows what I found.
I stared at those words until they blurred.
Rosie whispered.
“Mommy was scared.”
I looked at her.
“Of Vivienne?”
Rosie nodded.
May you like
Then she said something that changed the entire investigation.
“Mommy said the medicine lady was lying.”
