Chapter 7 - THE TRAP AT WHITMORE HOUSE
Grace grabbed the phone.
“What did she say?”
Adrian looked at her.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me again.”
He hesitated.
Then told her.
Grace went white.
“My mother?”
“I’ll send someone to the hospital.”
“She’s at home.”
Adrian immediately called Malcolm.
“Get two people to Grace’s apartment. Now.”
Grace shook her head.
“No strangers.”
“People I trust.”
“You trusted Benton.”
That landed.
Adrian changed tactics.
“Then you choose.”
“Margaret.”
“The head housekeeper?”
“She’s known my mother since I started working there.”
Adrian nodded.
He called the house.
Margaret answered.
Her voice trembled.
“Hello?”
“It’s Adrian.”
Silence.
Then a whisper.
“Mr. Whitmore?”
“I need you to leave the estate quietly and go to Grace’s mother.”
“Sir—everyone says—”
“I know.”
“Mr. Benton told us you were dead.”
“I’m not.”
Margaret began crying.
Adrian’s expression softened.
“Margaret, listen carefully. Tell no one. Go to Grace’s mother and stay with her.”
“Yes, sir.”
He hung up.
Grace watched him.
“That was almost human.”
Adrian gave her a tired look.
“I deserved that.”
“Yes.”
They drove toward Whitmore House.
Malcolm met them at an abandoned maintenance cottage near the rear of the estate.
He stared at Adrian.
“You look horrible.”
“Thank you.”
Then he saw Grace.
“You must be the maid.”
Grace crossed her arms.
“And you must be one of the people who knew about this ridiculous costume.”
“Actually, I advised against it.”
“Smart man.”
Adrian interrupted.
“What’s happening?”
Malcolm opened a laptop.
“Benton has the board on an emergency call at noon. He claims you disappeared after showing signs of emotional instability.”
“Convenient.”
“He says your sister should receive temporary voting authority.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“My updated will?”
“Downloaded.”
“Contents?”
Malcolm looked uncomfortable.
“You changed the primary beneficiary.”
Grace glanced between them.
“To whom?”
Adrian ignored the question.
Malcolm continued.
“Your sister loses almost everything under the new version.”
Grace frowned.
“Why?”
Adrian looked away.
“Because I found out she had been using our father’s trust to cover gambling debts.”
Malcolm added, “About six million.”
Grace stared.
“And she was stealing from the charity too?”
“Looks that way.”
Adrian looked toward the mansion.
“We need proof.”
Grace spoke.
“I have it.”
Both men turned.
“The copy?”
She nodded.
“Where?”
Grace walked toward the old cottage fireplace.
Adrian frowned.
She reached behind a loose brick and pulled out a plastic sleeve.
“You hid it on my property?”
“I used to clean this cottage.”
Malcolm laughed once.
“I like her.”
Grace handed Adrian the papers.
He scanned them.
Transfer dates.
Account numbers.
Benton’s signature.
Victoria’s authorization code.
Then he reached the final page.
His face changed.
Grace noticed.
“What?”
Adrian turned the sheet around.
At the bottom was a second list.
Not transfers.
Names.
Victor Haines.
Charles Benton.
Two board members.
And Malcolm Reed.
Grace looked at Malcolm.
Adrian slowly did the same.
Malcolm stared at the page.
“I have never seen that before.”
Then a gun clicked behind them.
May you like
A man said,
“Maybe because you weren’t supposed to.”
