Chapter 6: The Woman Who Knew My Mother
I ran toward the front door.
Caleb caught my arm before I reached it.
“Wait.””
“She's talking about my mother!””
“And someone may be using that to get inside.””
I pulled free.
“Would you prefer I leave her standing in the rain?””
“I'd prefer you stay alive long enough to find out why she's here.””
Marcus was already moving toward the security panel.
“Open the gate.””
Caleb stepped in front of him.
“Not until we know whether she's alone.””
Marcus glared at him.
“You've spent eleven years hiding from people. Don't start treating every stranger like an assassin.””
“That's exactly how I survived.””
I looked at the security monitor again.
Catherine Bell stood motionless beneath the light, her hands trembling around the photograph. She looked exhausted, perhaps in her late fifties, with silver streaks running through her dark hair.
She was frightened.
Not theatrically frightened. Not the calculated fear of someone trying to sell a story.
She kept looking over her shoulder as if expecting headlights to appear on the road behind her.
I pressed the intercom button.
“Catherine, I'm Sarah. Can you tell me what you know about my mother?””
Her eyes widened when she heard my voice.
“Your mother was named Margaret, wasn't she?””
“Yes.””
“Then you have to believe me. Thomas wasn't your enemy. He spent years trying to protect you.””
“From whom?””
She swallowed.
“From the same people who are still looking for what he left behind.””
Caleb exchanged a glance with Evelyn.
I pressed the button again.
“Do you know who killed Thomas?””
Catherine closed her eyes.
“I know who was supposed to make sure he never spoke again.””
A sharp sound came from outside the gate.
Catherine turned.
Headlights swept across the road.
Her face drained of color.
“Please,” she whispered into the intercom.
“Let me in.””
Caleb grabbed the security handset.
“Close the outer gate. Now.””
The guard's voice answered immediately.
“Already closed, sir.””
A black SUV appeared beyond the iron bars.
It slowed beside Catherine.
The rear window lowered.
Even through the grainy security camera, I saw a hand extend from the darkness.
Catherine stumbled backward.
“Sarah, don't trust—”
The screen went black.
Marcus swore and slammed his palm against the console.
“What happened?””
“The cameras have been disabled,” Caleb said.
He pulled a small flashlight from his coat and headed toward the foyer.
I followed him.
“Where are you going?””
“To the gate.””
“I'm coming with you.””
“No.””
“Caleb, this woman knows my mother. She may know why Thomas transferred the house to me. I'm not sitting here while you decide which parts of my life I'm allowed to understand.””
He studied me for a moment.
Then he handed me his spare flashlight.
“Stay behind me.””
We crossed the front hall and stepped into the rain.
The mansion's stone steps were slick beneath our shoes. Wind whipped through the trees, and the garden lights flickered as we hurried toward the gatehouse.
The guard met us halfway.
“I'm sorry, sir. The system went down for about forty seconds.””
“Did anyone enter?”” Caleb asked.
“No. The outer gate remained locked.””
“Then where is the woman?””
The guard pointed toward the roadside.
A dark shape lay beside the hedge.
I ran before Caleb could stop me.
Catherine was on the ground, her coat torn at the shoulder. Blood trickled from a cut above her eyebrow, and her hands were clenched around the photograph.
“Catherine!””
Her eyes opened slowly.
“Sarah?””
“I'm here. What happened?””
She tried to sit up, wincing as she moved.
“Someone grabbed me. I fought them, but they took my bag.””
Caleb crouched beside her.
“Did you see the person?””
“A man. Tall. Black gloves. He told me to stop looking for Thomas's daughter.””
My throat tightened.
“Did he say his name?””
Catherine shook her head.
“He didn't need to.””
Caleb exchanged a grim look with the guard.
“Call an ambulance. And have the police secure the road.””
Catherine grabbed my wrist.
“No police.””
“You've been attacked,” I said.
“You need medical attention.””
“The police won't help you.””
“Why not?””
She looked past me toward the mansion.
“Because the person who ordered this has friends inside the department.””
Caleb's expression hardened.
“Catherine, you need to tell us what happened eleven years ago.””
She pressed the photograph against her chest.
“Not here.””
“We can take you somewhere safe,” I said.
“No. The house.””
Caleb immediately shook his head.
“Absolutely not.””
Catherine stared at him.
“Thomas told me that if I ever found Sarah, I was to bring her to the house where the deed was kept. He said the truth was hidden there, behind the one thing nobody in the family would think to move.””
I thought of the mansion.
The paintings. The antique clock. The fireplace.
“What thing?”” I asked.
Catherine closed her eyes.
“The portrait.””
A chill moved through me.
“Which portrait?””
“The one in Thomas's study. The portrait of his first wife.””
Evelyn, who had followed us outside, stopped abruptly.
“Thomas never had a first wife.””
Catherine turned toward her.
“That's what he wanted everyone to believe.””
Evelyn's face crumpled.
“No. That's impossible.””
“Is it?”” Catherine asked.
“You married Thomas in 1989. But before you, there was another woman. A woman named Margaret.””
My mother's name.
I stared at her, unable to breathe.
“My mother was never married to Thomas.””
Catherine's eyes filled with tears.
“Your mother loved him. She was pregnant with his child when his family forced her out of his life.””
Marcus appeared behind us, his face pale.
“That's a lie.””
Catherine looked directly at him.
“Your father tried to find her for years. When he finally did, he discovered she had raised a daughter alone.””
I shook my head.
“Then why didn't he tell me?””
“Because he was afraid that if you knew the truth, someone would use you to destroy him.””
“Who?””
Catherine looked at Evelyn.
For a moment, I thought she would answer.
Instead, she turned toward Caleb.
“Did you bring the original file?””
Caleb shook his head.
“No. The ledger is still missing.””
Catherine's expression changed.
“Then we're too late.””
A distant siren rose beyond the trees.
Marcus stepped closer.
“What do you mean, too late?””
Catherine struggled to her feet with my help.
“Because the ledger wasn't the only thing Thomas hid.””
She reached into the torn lining of her coat and pulled out a tiny brass key.
“I found this in Margaret's belongings after she died. She told me to give it to Thomas's daughter when the time came.””
She placed it in my palm.
The key was engraved with three letters.
T.W.
I stared at it.
“What's it for?””
Catherine looked toward the mansion.
“The locked compartment behind Thomas's portrait.””
We hurried back inside as the rain intensified.
In the study, Caleb lifted the portrait from its hooks while Marcus searched the wall behind it. The painting showed Thomas standing beside a woman whose face had been partially obscured by age and dust.
But beneath the frame, hidden behind a panel of dark wood, was a small brass lock.
My hand shook as I inserted the key.
It turned with a soft click.
Inside the compartment lay a velvet pouch, a sealed envelope, and a small digital recorder.
Caleb lifted the recorder carefully.
Marcus reached for the envelope.
I snatched it first.
My name was written across the front.
Beneath it, Thomas had added a sentence that made my blood run cold.
Sarah, if you are reading this, then the person who killed me has finally realized who you are.
I tore open the envelope.
Inside was a single page.
At the top was the name of the woman in the portrait.
*Margaret Whitmore.*
Beneath it was a date, followed by a handwritten confession.
I did not die of natural causes. I was murdered because I discovered the truth about my first daughter.
I looked up at Evelyn.
She was trembling so violently that she had to grip the desk.
Marcus stared at the page.
Then Caleb pressed PLAY on the recorder.
Thomas's voice filled the room, weak but unmistakable.
“If Sarah has found this, then I am already dead. There is one person you must never trust, no matter what they tell you.””
The recording crackled.
Thomas took a ragged breath.
“And that person is—”
A loud crash erupted from the hallway.
The study door slammed shut.
The lights went out.
May you like
In the darkness, someone whispered directly behind me.
“I'm sorry, Sarah. You were never supposed to find this.””
