Chapter 3 - THE LOCKED ROOMEvelyn did not sleep that night.
By three in the morning, the ballroom had been cleared, the flowers removed, the wedding vendors dismissed, and every gossip reporter in the Northeast seemed to know that Dominic Sterling's wedding had been canceled.
Nobody knew why.
Not yet.
Dominic had moved Evelyn to a secure guest suite because Margaret Hart had vanished with Gregory Vale.
Evelyn had argued.
“I have a daughter.”
“We'll bring her here.”
“No.”
Dominic looked surprised.
“My daughter does not come anywhere near whatever this is.”
“She may already be connected.”
That was exactly what Evelyn feared.
She called Lily.
Her daughter answered on the fourth ring.
“Mom?”
Evelyn nearly cried hearing her voice.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Aunt Carla let me stay up watching movies.”
Carla was Evelyn's closest friend, not an actual aunt, but Lily had called her that since kindergarten.
“Stay there tonight.”
“Mom, are you okay?”
“I had a problem at work.”
“What problem?”
“Nothing I can't handle.”
There was a pause.
“You're doing the voice.”
“What voice?”
“The one where you're pretending everything is fine.”
Fourteen-year-olds saw too much.
“I promise I'll explain tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
After hanging up, Evelyn found Dominic waiting in the hallway.
“You're a mother.”
“Yes.”
“How old?”
“Fourteen.”
He nodded.
“Then we keep her outside this.”
“That's what I just said.”
“And I'm agreeing.”
“I'm not accustomed to men like you agreeing with people like me.”
His expression tightened.
“People like you?”
“People without armed security outside their bedroom.”
For the first time, he almost smiled.
It disappeared quickly.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“There is something you need to see.”
He led her through the east wing of the mansion.
Sterling Manor had been built in 1911, a sprawling stone estate overlooking the Hudson River. Evelyn had spent the evening serving people in rooms larger than her apartment.
Now Dominic brought her behind the library.
He moved one shelf.
There was a hidden door.
“Of course there is,” Evelyn muttered.
That actually earned a brief smile.
“My grandfather was dramatic.”
Behind the door was a narrow staircase.
At the bottom, Dominic entered a code.
A steel door opened.
Inside were records.
Hundreds of boxes.
Ledgers.
Photographs.
Files.
“The family archive,” Dominic said.
“Your secret criminal basement?”
“A surprisingly accurate description.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Are you actually in the mafia?”
Dominic leaned against a cabinet.
“My grandfather was. My father spent half his life trying to get our businesses legitimate.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“No.”
“No, you're not?”
“No, I'm not giving you a simple answer.”
Evelyn folded her arms.
“Wonderful.”
“My family has a history I'm not proud of. Some relationships don't disappear because you decide to file cleaner tax returns.”
“That may be the most billionaire answer I've ever heard.”
“I'm not a billionaire.”
“How tragic.”
Another almost-smile.
Then Dominic grew serious.
“My father kept records on Rose.”
He pulled a box from a shelf.
Inside were photographs of Evelyn's mother.
Rose entering banks.
Rose meeting attorneys.
Rose carrying Evelyn into a pediatric clinic.
Rose sitting in a diner with Vincent Sterling.
“She was watched?”
“After the money disappeared.”
Evelyn studied the photos.
Rose looked tired.
Scared.
But alive.
She picked up one dated two weeks after the supposed theft.
“Why didn't police arrest her?”
“Because my father stopped them.”
“Why?”
“He started believing she hadn't stolen anything.”
Dominic removed a cassette tape.
“Have you ever heard her voice as an adult?”
Evelyn went still.
“No.”
He found an old tape player.
The recording crackled.
Then a woman's voice filled the room.
“If you're hearing this, Vincent, then Gregory knows.”
Evelyn grabbed the table.
Her mother.
Older than Evelyn remembered.
But unmistakable.
“Gregory Vale has been moving Sterling money through shell companies. At least five million that I can prove. Maybe more.”
Evelyn looked at Dominic.
Gregory.
Cassandra's father.
The recording continued.
“He knows I found the accounts. He threatened Evelyn yesterday.”
Evelyn stopped breathing.
“I won't risk my daughter. I'm taking her somewhere safe until I can get the evidence to you.”
The tape clicked.
Then Rose said something softer.
“If anything happens to me, don't trust the accident.”
The recording ended.
Evelyn stared at the player.
Dominic spoke quietly.
“My father found this six months after Rose disappeared.”
“Why didn't he tell anyone?”
“He tried to find her.”
“For twenty-eight years?”
“Until he died.”
“Why didn't he find me?”
Dominic looked uncomfortable.
“He did.”
The words hit harder than the riding crop.
“What?”
“My father knew where you were.”
Evelyn stepped back.
“He knew?”
“Yes.”
“And he left me with Margaret?”
“He believed you were safer there.”
“She hated my mother.”
“We didn't know that.”
“You didn't bother checking?”
“I was sixteen.”
“Your father.”
“No defense.”
Evelyn's anger sharpened.
“Did he ever come see me?”
“Not that I know.”
“Send money?”
“Yes.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Every mystery eventually led to wealthy men trying to solve guilt with money.
“How much?”
“Ten thousand a month.”
Evelyn stared.
“I grew up wearing thrift-store shoes.”
Dominic's face changed.
“What?”
“We were almost evicted twice.”
“He sent it until you turned twenty-one.”
“I never saw a dollar.”
Another betrayal.
Margaret.
The woman who had complained about every grocery bill.
Who had told Evelyn college was unaffordable.
Who had borrowed money from Evelyn after she began working.
“She stole it.”
“It appears so.”
Evelyn clenched her jaw.
“No. We don't know that.”
Dominic opened another file.
Bank records.
Checks made payable to Margaret Hart.
Deposits.
Transfers.
A vacation home in Florida purchased under another name.
Evelyn sat down.
Twenty-eight years of lies.
Then she noticed another folder.
Her name.
EVELYN ROSE HART — PERSONAL
She reached for it.
Dominic stopped her.
“You may not want to.”
“That has never stopped anyone else from making decisions about my life.”
He released the folder.
Inside were school photographs.
Report cards.
A newspaper clipping from her community college graduation.
Her marriage certificate.
Divorce papers.
And photographs of Lily.
Evelyn's stomach dropped.
“Why does your family have pictures of my daughter?”
“I don't know.”
One showed Lily leaving elementary school.
Taken from across the street.
Another showed Evelyn and Lily at a park.
“That was last year.”
Dominic's face darkened.
“My father died six years ago.”
“Then he didn't take these.”
“No.”
A sound came from the staircase.
Dominic instantly moved in front of Evelyn.
A security man appeared.
“Sir, there's a situation upstairs.”
“What?”
“We caught someone accessing the east-wing office.”
“Who?”
“Ms. Vale.”
Cassandra.
Dominic's expression became stone.
“What was she doing?”
“Destroying documents.”
They found Cassandra in the office twenty minutes later.
A metal trash bin smoldered on the floor.
Dominic picked up a half-burned paper.
“What is this?”
“Nothing.”
Evelyn noticed an envelope beneath Cassandra's chair.
She grabbed it first.
“Give me that,” Cassandra snapped.
Evelyn opened it.
Inside was a recent photograph.
Rose Hart.
Older.
Gray streaks in her hair.
Standing outside a small house.
On the back someone had written:
October 2. Confirmed alive.
Four days ago.
Evelyn's hands shook.
“You knew.”
Cassandra said nothing.
“You knew my mother was alive.”
“She is dangerous.”
“She is my mother!”
“She stole millions!”
“No,” Evelyn said. “Your father did.”
Cassandra froze.
That reaction answered everything.
Dominic saw it too.
“You knew about that as well.”
Cassandra looked at him desperately.
“You don't understand.”
“Then make me.”
“My father protected your family.”
“From what?”
“From Rose.”
Evelyn stepped closer.
“What did my mother have?”
Cassandra's eyes flicked toward the locket.
And Evelyn finally understood.
“The locket.”
Cassandra backed away.
Dominic looked between them.
“What's inside it?”
“Nothing,” Cassandra said.
Evelyn opened the locket.
She had done so countless times.
Inside was a tiny photograph of Rose holding her as a baby.
Dominic took it.
He examined the frame carefully.
Then pressed the edge.
A second compartment sprang open.
Evelyn gasped.
Hidden beneath the photograph was a tiny brass key.
Cassandra ran.
Dominic caught her before she reached the door.
She fought wildly.
“Give it to me!”
Evelyn held the key tighter.
“What does it open?”
Cassandra stopped struggling.
Her eyes met Evelyn's.
“If your mother gave you that key, she wasn't trying to save you.”
“What does it open?”
“She was making you a target.”
Dominic stepped between them.
“Answer her.”
Cassandra laughed.
“You think Rose is some innocent victim?”
“Answer.”
Cassandra stared at Evelyn.
“It opens Box 317.”
“Where?”
“First Federal Bank.”
“And what's inside?”
“My father's death sentence.”
A new voice came from the doorway.
“No, Cassandra.”
Everyone turned.
Gregory Vale stood there.
May you like
A pistol in his hand.
“It contains all of ours.”
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