Chapter 11 - THE PRICE OF A LIE
Lena laughed once, without humor. “He always thinks money explains everything.”
Charles had brought bank records showing transfers to an account in Lena’s name. The first was dated eight years ago. The most recent was from the week before the gala.
Lena said she had never opened that account.
Bell believed it needed investigating, and she told Victoria so plainly. Lena also admitted she had asked Charles for money once: years ago, when Rosie needed treatment and Lena could not afford it. Charles had paid the clinic directly. That was why the invoices had been kept.
Victoria wished she could know which parts of the past had been kindness, guilt, or another way to keep Lena quiet.
Charles gave a televised statement that evening.
He stood outside his attorney’s office, looking straight into the camera.
“My wife and I are relieved that our daughter is alive,” he said. “We are cooperating with the police as they investigate how she was kept from us all these years.”
He did not mention the nursery video.
Reporters surrounded Claire’s building within an hour. Bruno helped the officers move Victoria, Rosie, and Lena through the back entrance to a safe apartment.
On the ride, Lena sat across from Victoria. Rosie slept between them, her head against Victoria’s shoulder and her hand in Lena’s.
“I didn’t teach her to be afraid of you,” Lena said.
“I know.”
“I told her about the silver bird because I thought, one day, I’d be brave enough to bring her home.”
Victoria looked at Rosie. “You did bring her.”
The next morning, Bell uncovered the first break in Charles’s bank records. The account in Lena’s name had been opened with an address belonging to one of Crane’s companies. A teller remembered Maren bringing the paperwork.
Bell also found that the video equipment in the nursery had been installed because Victoria asked for it when Rosalind began sleepwalking. The system backed up to an external drive. Charles had told police the cameras were broken.
Maren was still missing. Crane had vanished.
Victoria received a call from an unfamiliar number. She let Bell trace it, then answered on speaker.
Crane’s voice came through. “Your husband thinks I’m taking the blame for all of this.”
“Where is Maren?” Bell asked.
A pause. “Who’s that?”
“Detective Bell.”
Crane breathed into the phone. “Ask Charles what happened at the lake. Ask him why he needed an empty casket.”
The call ended.
Bell’s team traced it to a gas station outside the city. By the time officers arrived, Crane was gone.
Victoria sat with the phone in her hands.
She had believed Charles invented the lake story to cover Rosie’s disappearance. Crane had just suggested there was more.
May you like
Bell called the funeral home. An hour later, she had its old records.
“Victoria,” she said, “there was something inside that casket.”
