CHAPTER 3 — THE FIRE VICTORIA NEVER DISCUSSED
Victoria’s expression changed instantly.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
Emily saw it.
“You know exactly what guesthouse he means,” Emily said.
Victoria looked around the security room.
“This is not the place.”
Ruiz blocked the doorway.
“It became the place when someone threatened a hostage.”
Owen sat heavily in a chair.
His hands trembled.
“My daughter’s name is Sophie. She works at a restaurant in West Hollywood. They took her this afternoon.”
“Who contacted you?” Ruiz asked.
“A blocked number. They told me to erase the hallway footage, place the box in Emily’s bag, and make sure she was arrested.”
Emily stared at him.
“Why me?”
“They said Victoria would understand.”
Victoria turned away.
Emily stepped closer.
“You let me be handcuffed in front of a hundred people.”
“I was trying to save my child.”
“And I was acceptable collateral damage?”
Owen covered his face.
“I’m sorry.”
Emily wanted to hit him.
Instead, she looked at Victoria.
“What happened twenty years ago?”
Victoria’s voice hardened.
“Nothing relevant.”
Marcus slammed his palm against the desk.
“A woman died!”
Silence swallowed the room.
Victoria stared at him.
Marcus continued.
“Her name was Anna Carter.”
Emily stopped breathing.
“My mother?”
Victoria closed her eyes.
Emily moved toward her.
“My mother died in a car accident.”
“No,” Marcus said. “That’s what you were told.”
Emily looked at Victoria.
“Tell me he’s lying.”
Victoria said nothing.
That silence hurt more than any answer.
Marcus spoke carefully.
“Your mother worked here before you did. She was Victoria’s personal assistant. One night, there was a fire in the old guesthouse. Anna pulled Victoria out.”
Emily shook her head.
“My mother never mentioned this family.”
“She was paid not to.”
Victoria finally spoke.
“Anna was not paid for her silence.”
“Then why did she disappear?” Emily demanded.
“Because she was afraid.”
“Of you?”
Victoria’s eyes filled with something Emily had never seen in them before.
Shame.
“Of my husband.”
Victoria’s late husband, Richard Hayes, had been dead for seven years. Newspapers remembered him as a real estate genius and generous philanthropist.
Marcus remembered him differently.
“Richard used the guesthouse for private meetings,” he said. “Bribes. Blackmail. Politicians. Judges. Developers. Anna found records.”
“What records?” Ruiz asked.
“Proof that Richard ordered buildings burned so he could buy the land cheap.”
Emily felt sick.
“The guesthouse fire wasn’t an accident.”
“No,” Victoria said. “It was an attempt to destroy the evidence.”
“And my mother?”
“She escaped with a ledger.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed.
“What happened to her?”
Victoria’s voice dropped.
“Three days later, her car went through a guardrail.”
Emily’s knees nearly gave out.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“You let me believe it was an accident for twenty years.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
Emily laughed once, sharp and empty.
“You hired me.”
“I kept you close.”
“You watched me talk about my mother. You watched me grieve her.”
Victoria’s voice broke.
“I did not know how to tell you.”
“Try this: Your mother was murdered because my husband was a criminal.”
Ruiz interrupted.
“Where is the ledger now?”
Victoria looked at the velvet jewelry box.
“Hidden inside the bracelet.”
Emily stared.
“The missing bracelet contains the evidence?”
“My mother had the bracelet altered after Anna gave her a microfilm copy of the ledger. She wore it every anniversary because that was the night Anna saved my life.”
Ruiz exhaled slowly.
“So whoever stole it isn’t after the diamonds.”
“They’re after the names.”
Owen’s phone rang.
The masked man appeared again.
This time Sophie was crying.
“You have thirty minutes,” he said.
Victoria stepped toward the screen.
“Who are you?”
The man removed his mask.
Emily recognized him immediately.
He had attended the charity event that evening.
He had shaken Victoria’s hand.
He had smiled for photographs.
Grant Hayes.
May you like
Victoria’s only son.
“Bring me the bracelet, Mother,” Grant said. “Or Sophie dies for a secret that should have stayed buried.”
