Chapter 5 - A Dead Woman’s Son
They went to Ruth’s office through a back entrance.
No glass tower.
No marble lobby.
Just three floors above a hardware store and a stairwell that smelled like old coffee.
Nora stood by the window while Adrian explained.
Celia’s brother, Victor Voss, had been his father’s business partner.
Nine years earlier, Victor went to prison for stealing investment funds.
Celia had been listed among the victims of a resort fire overseas.
“I never met her,” Adrian said. “But I signed the payment to bring her remains home.”
“Whose remains?”
“I don’t know.”
Ruth was already making calls.
Nora folded her arms.
“And the boy?”
“Her son, apparently.”
“So she tried to kill you because somebody has her child.”
“It looks that way.”
“You say everything like you’re afraid of a recorder.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Lately, I usually am.”
His phone vibrated.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
The waitress. Alone. South stairwell. Ten minutes.
A photograph followed.
Celia, staring into the camera.
Blood marked her lower lip.
Behind her was a green stairwell door.
Ruth checked the image.
“That’s this building.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Nora headed for the door.
Adrian caught up.
“Absolutely not.”
“She asked for me.”
“Someone using her phone asked for you.”
Nora stopped.
That was fair.
Ruth took a small camera from a desk drawer and checked the stairwell feed installed outside her office.
Celia sat on the landing below.
Alone.
One shoe missing.
Ruth called the investigator stationed downstairs.
He reached Celia before Nora did.
Up close, the woman looked older.
And much less expensive.
Her dress was torn at the shoulder.
“I slipped out when Martin stopped to make a call,” she said.
“Who has your son?” Nora asked.
Celia looked at Adrian.
“Your foundation.”
His face went blank.
“Owen’s nine. They said if you left the gala alive, I’d never see him again.”
“Who said?”
Celia’s mouth trembled.
“Elaine.”
Elaine Voss.
Victor’s wife.
The foundation director.
The smiling woman whose photograph hung beside Adrian’s in every charity brochure.
Ruth crouched beside Celia.
“Where is Owen now?”
“The old family retreat. Near the ferry.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard the horn when they let me speak to him.”
Adrian bent down.
“Celia, what was in the glass?”
She shook her head.
“They gave me the vial. I don’t know.”
Then she caught Nora’s wrist.
“You’re Ben’s sister.”
Nora went cold.
Celia swallowed.
“He said you’d never walk past someone who needed help.”
“Who said that?”
May you like
Celia looked at Adrian.
And Nora knew, before anyone answered, that he had been lying to her since the ballroom.
