Chapter 3: The Secret in My Father's Safe
I had not heard Edward Vale's voice in nearly a year.
It was the same smooth, reassuring voice that had guided me through my first corporate acquisition, consoled me at my father's funeral, and convinced me to trust him with decisions involving millions of dollars.
Now it came through my hotel door like a threat wrapped in silk.
Grace backed away from the entrance.
“Don't let him in,” she whispered.
I stared at the door.
“How did he find us?””
“I told you. They have people everywhere.””
Edward knocked again.
“Lucienne? I know you're in there. Your driver called me when you stopped downtown. He was concerned about you.””
I turned toward the ceiling, fighting the urge to scream.
Marcus.
My trusted driver had called Edward.
I had known Marcus for six years. He had driven me through storms, waited outside hospitals when my husband was dying, and once spent an entire night searching Atlanta when my teenage niece failed to come home.
I had considered him family.
I walked toward the door but stopped before reaching it.
“Edward, why are you following me?””
A pause.
“I'm not following you. I'm trying to protect you.””
“From what?””
“From a woman who has spent twenty-five years manipulating people.””
Behind me, Grace made a small, wounded sound.
Edward continued.
“I know what she told you. I know she claims to be your sister. But Lucienne, you need to think carefully.
Grief makes people vulnerable. There are professionals who exploit that vulnerability.””
I pressed my palm against the door.
“Then explain the bracelet.””
Another pause.
“Old jewelry can be copied.””
“The scar above her eyebrow?””
“Scars can be copied too, though I doubt that's what happened. Open the door, and let's discuss this like adults.””
I glanced at Grace.
She shook her head, tears running down her cheeks.
Edward lowered his voice.
“Your father would never have wanted you dragged into this.””
That did it.
I unlocked the door but kept the security chain fastened.
Edward stood in the hallway wearing a charcoal suit and a burgundy tie. His silver hair was neatly combed, and his expensive leather shoes looked untouched by the rain outside.
He held a paper bag in one hand.
“Lucienne,” he said, smiling faintly.
“Thank goodness.””
I didn't smile back.
“What do you want?””
He lifted the bag.
“Food. I thought you might need something.””
“That's thoughtful.””
His eyes moved past me, searching the room.
“May I come in?””
“No.””
The smile remained, but the warmth disappeared from his face.
“Your father would be disappointed to see how suspicious you've become.””
“My father has been dead for eight years. Stop using him to avoid answering my questions.””
Edward's jaw tightened.
Then he looked directly at the narrow gap between the door and the frame.
“Grace,” he called.
“I know you're there.””
My sister covered her mouth.
I slammed the door shut.
Edward's voice sharpened.
“Lucienne, listen to me. You have no idea what you've brought into your life. That woman is dangerous.””
I heard his shoes retreat down the hallway.
For several seconds, I remained frozen with my hand on the lock.
Then I turned around.
Grace was sitting on the bed, shaking.
“He knows,” she whispered.
“Of course he knows. Apparently, Marcus told him everything.””
She shook her head.
“No. He knows because he was there when they took me.””
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?””
Grace pulled the blanket around her shoulders.
“Edward was the man waiting in that house. Dad handed him an envelope, and Edward handed Dad a suitcase. I didn't understand what was happening. I thought we were playing some kind of game.””
She stared at the carpet.
“Then Dad kissed my forehead and told me to be a good girl. He said you'd come get me in the morning.””
I sat beside her.
“Grace, why would he do that?””
“I don't know. I was ten.””
Her voice broke.
“He drove away, Lucy. He didn't even look back.””
I wrapped my arms around her.
She cried against my shoulder, and I held her as tightly as I had when she was a little girl.
But the questions kept multiplying.
Our father had been strict, sometimes cruel, but I had never imagined he could deliberately erase his own child. He had spent the rest of his life pretending she was dead.
Why?
And why had Edward helped him?
I called my attorney, Daniel Brooks, and told him I needed an urgent meeting. I didn't mention Grace's name over the phone.
When he arrived forty minutes later, he took one look at my sister and stopped in the doorway.
“Lucienne,” he said carefully, “who is this?””
“My sister.””
Daniel glanced at the bracelet.
Then at the scar.
His briefcase slipped from his hand and hit the carpet.
“That's impossible.””
I stepped toward him.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?””
Daniel swallowed.
“Because Edward Vale told your father that Grace's body had been recovered. He personally arranged the paperwork after the river search.””
Grace stood up.
“Did you see my body?””
Daniel looked at her.
“No.””
“Did you see a photograph?””
He shook his head slowly.
“No.””
“Then you don't know I was dead.””
Daniel sat down heavily.
For the first time in all the years I'd known him, he looked genuinely frightened.
“There is something you need to understand,” he said.
“Your father changed his will shortly before Grace disappeared. Most of his estate was placed into a trust that would transfer to his surviving children.””
I frowned.
“He told me I inherited everything because Grace was dead.””
“That was the explanation. But there was another condition in the original trust.””
Daniel opened his briefcase and removed a thin folder.
“If Grace was ever found alive, the trust would be dissolved, and a separate account would become accessible.””
“What account?””
He turned a page toward me.
I stared at the number printed at the top.
It was an account worth more than forty million dollars.
“Where did this money come from?”” I asked.
Daniel hesitated.
“Your father claimed it was an insurance settlement. But the account was never listed in his public financial disclosures.””
Grace leaned over the table.
“Who owns it?””
Daniel looked between us.
“The beneficiary is listed under a name I've never seen before.””
He turned the final page.
A signature appeared at the bottom.
Not my father's.
Not Edward's.
It was mine.
*LUCIENNE MARIE CARTER.*
I stepped back as if the paper had burned me.
“That's impossible. I never signed this.””
Daniel examined the signature more closely.
“It's your handwriting.””
“I never opened an account like that!””
Grace reached into her pocket and removed another folded document.
“I think you did,” she whispered.
“You just don't remember.””
She unfolded the paper and laid it beside Daniel's file.
It was a letter addressed to me, dated three days before Grace disappeared.
The handwriting was unmistakably my father's.
Lucy, if anything happens to your sister, you must never trust Edward Vale. The money was never meant to belong to him.
My knees weakened.
I read the sentence again.
Then I turned the page over.
On the back, my father had written one final line.
If Grace ever returns, take her to the house and open the safe behind the portrait. The combination is the date you were born.
I looked up at my sister.
“What is in that safe?””
Grace's face had gone pale.
“Something Edward has spent twenty-five years trying to find.””
My phone began vibrating on the table.
An incoming call.
The number was blocked.
I answered.
For several seconds, all I heard was static.
Then a man's voice spoke.
“Lucienne, if Grace is with you, get away from her immediately.””
“Who is this?””
The voice lowered to a whisper.
“Someone who watched your father die.””
My heart hammered against my ribs.
“What do you mean? My father died of a heart attack.””
The man exhaled shakily.
“No. Your father was murdered.””
Grace grabbed my wrist.
The caller continued.
May you like
“And if you want to know why, you need to look inside that safe before Edward gets there first.””
Then the line went dead.
