Chapter 3 - Evelyn Whitmore sat in the mansion's private dining room surrounded by silence.She wore a black silk robe and a diamond necklace worth more than most houses.
Across from her sat Malcolm Reed.
Between them rested a leather folder.
Evelyn opened it.
“The board meeting is tomorrow.”
Malcolm nodded.
“And?”
“And if Adrian remains missing for another forty-eight hours, we initiate emergency control procedures.”
Evelyn lifted an eyebrow.
“Emergency?”
“You know what I mean.”
She closed the folder.
“The company cannot remain leaderless.”
Malcolm leaned closer.
“Neither can the family.”
Evelyn smiled.
“My son has always been difficult.”
“That is one word for it.”
“He'll come back.”
Malcolm's face remained expressionless.
“Will he?”
Evelyn looked up.
“What are you suggesting?”
Malcolm slid a document across the table.
“His private security account was accessed last night.”
“By whom?”
“We don't know.”
Evelyn stared at the page.
Then she noticed the timestamp.
2:13 a.m.
“Could it be Adrian?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because the authorization came from inside the estate.”
Evelyn went silent.
“Someone in this house?”
“Yes.”
She leaned back.
“Find them.”
Malcolm nodded.
Then a servant entered.
“Mrs. Whitmore, there's a call for you.”
“From whom?”
“The police.”
Evelyn took the phone.
The officer explained that a homeless man had been found near the property the previous morning.
Evelyn frowned.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“They believe he may have been connected to your estate.”
“Then remove him.”
The officer hesitated.
“He mentioned the security system.”
Evelyn's expression changed.
“What exactly did he say?”
“He claimed the cameras were deliberately disabled.”
Evelyn looked at Malcolm.
Neither spoke.
Then someone knocked.
Grace entered.
She carried a tray.
Evelyn's eyes narrowed.
“Leave it.”
Grace placed the tray down.
As she turned, Evelyn asked:
“Grace.”
“Yes, ma'am?”
“Did you speak with the beggar yesterday?”
Grace stopped.
“No.”
The lie came quickly.
Evelyn noticed.
So did Malcolm.
“Look at me.”
Grace turned.
Evelyn's gaze was icy.
“Did you?”
Grace swallowed.
“He asked for food.”
“And you gave him some.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He was hungry.”
Evelyn smiled.
“Of course.”
Grace left.
The moment the door shut, Malcolm whispered:
“She knows something.”
Evelyn nodded.
“She always did.”
That night, Grace returned to the servants' quarters.
She locked the door.
Then opened a hidden compartment beneath her bed.
Inside was a small digital recorder.
She pressed play.
Evelyn's voice filled the room.
“…the new will must disappear.”
Then Malcolm's voice.
“What about Adrian?”
Evelyn answered:
“He won't be a problem much longer.”
Grace covered her mouth.
The recording continued.
“His father made the same mistake,” Malcolm said.
“He trusted the wrong people.”
Grace stopped the recording.
Her hands shook.
There was more.
Much more.
But she had never dared listen past that point.
A floorboard creaked outside.
Grace froze.
Someone had stopped outside her door.
She waited.
Three seconds.
Five.
Then the handle slowly turned.
Locked.
The person tried again.
Grace backed away.
A whisper came through the door.
“Grace.”
She recognized the voice.
Malcolm.
“You forgot to clean the east hallway.”
Grace didn't answer.
The handle stopped moving.
Footsteps faded.
She waited.
Then slipped beneath the bed and pulled out the recorder again.
A piece of paper fell from underneath it.
She picked it up.
It was old.
Yellowed.
Handwritten.
At the top was one sentence:
TO MY SON, ADRIAN, IF I AM EVER GONE.
Grace stared at the signature.
Adrian's father.
Thomas Whitmore.
She read the first line.
Your mother is not the woman you believe she is.
Grace's breath caught.
A knock came again.
This time louder.
“Grace?”
She hid the note.
“Coming.”
She opened the door.
Malcolm stood there smiling.
“You looked frightened.”
“I was working.”
He stepped inside.
His gaze moved around the room.
Then landed on the bed.
“Everything all right?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He smiled.
Then quietly shut the door behind him.
Grace realized the lock had been turned.
From the inside.
She took one step backward.
Malcolm looked at her.
May you like
And the smile disappeared.
“You should never have spoken to the beggar.”
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