Chapter 8 - The Woman in the Photograph
Bennett arranged for the threat to be documented and increased attention around my father’s room.
Maria went to stay with her daughter at a location Celeste didn’t know.
I went home long enough to shower.
The house smelled like cut flowers.
Engagement arrangements still covered the foyer.
White roses.
Branches of pale orchids.
A celebration waiting for people who would never come back.
In the kitchen, I found the mark where Maria had taped the week’s meal schedule to a cabinet.
Celeste had made her take it down.
“It looks institutional,” she had said.
I stood there longer than I needed to.
Then Richard called.
The foundation’s first transfer had gone to Harbor Renewal’s operating account.
Some money was still there.
The bank was reviewing the matter.
Some had moved to a consulting company.
“Who owns it?” I asked.
“We’re working on that.”
He hesitated.
“There’s something else. One of the dismissed employees called me.”
“Which one?”
“Dennis Price. Your father’s driver.”
Dennis agreed to meet us at Richard’s office.
He arrived holding a folded photograph.
“I didn’t think it meant anything,” he said.
The picture showed Celeste outside a restaurant with a dark-haired man.
They were standing too close for a business lunch.
“Why did you take this?”
“Mr. Ashford sent me to pick her up. She said she was with her sister. I recognized the man from another trip.”
“What trip?”
“A private bank downtown.”
Richard slid the photograph across the desk.
“Do you know his name?”
“Celeste called him Daniel.”
I took out my phone and opened a picture Maria’s daughter had sent from her building’s security camera.
The image was grainy.
A cap shaded half the man’s face.
But the jaw was the same.
So was the scar beside his left eyebrow.
“That’s him,” Dennis said.
Bennett called back after we sent both images.
She had a possible identification.
Daniel Mercer.
Prior fraud charges.
Business connections that overlapped with Harbor Renewal.
Then she said something that made me sit down.
“Evelyn, Celeste Vaughn may not be her legal name.”
“What is it?”
“Celeste Mercer.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“Her brother?”
May you like
Bennett’s voice stayed level.
“Her husband.”
