Chapter 4 - The Voice Beneath Hawthorne Hall
Aaron pulled me behind the concrete wall as a shadow moved across the bottom of the stairs.
A man climbed toward us.
He wore a black security jacket, but I recognized him as one of Margaret’s private guards.
Aaron stepped into his path.
“Where is Caroline?”
The guard reached inside his jacket.
Aaron struck his wrist before he could remove the object. A metal flashlight fell onto the stairs.
They struggled against the railing.
I grabbed the flashlight and swung it into the guard’s shoulder. He lost his balance and crashed against the wall.
Aaron pinned him down.
“Who told you Evelyn should have died with her husband?”
The man laughed through clenched teeth.
“You still think her husband’s crash was an accident?”
My hands went cold.
Thomas had died three years earlier when his car went through a barrier on a rain covered highway outside Dallas. Police said he had fallen asleep while driving home from a business meeting.
Thomas never drove while tired.
I had questioned the report until grief and exhaustion finally silenced me.
“What do you know about Thomas?” I asked.
The guard looked beyond me.
“Ask Margaret what he found in the vault.”
A door slammed below us.
Aaron secured the guard’s hands with a plastic restraint and took his radio.
We continued downstairs.
The basement smelled of dust, roses, and damp stone. Old wedding decorations lined the corridor. White arches leaned against crates of artificial flowers.
A shoe lay near the bridal suite.
Caroline’s shoe.
The door was locked.
Aaron used the guard’s key card.
Inside, Caroline sat on the floor beside the dressing table. Her wrists had been tied with a silk sash. Her veil was torn, and mascara streaked her cheeks.
I rushed to her.
“Did they hurt you?”
“I’m okay.”
I untied her while Aaron checked the adjoining rooms.
Caroline gripped my hands.
“Preston knows about Dad’s vault.”
“What vault?”
“The one beneath the ballroom.”
I stared at her.
“Our father sealed the wine cellar. He never called it a vault.”
“Preston showed me photographs. There are ledgers, company records, and recordings inside.”
“Why did he tell you?”
“He said the records proved Dad had stolen millions. He promised to protect our family if I married him and transferred control of the company.”
“And you believed him?”
Caroline closed her eyes.
“I was afraid.”
“You should have told me.”
“He said Thomas discovered the same records before he died. He said you would be next if I involved you.”
The door opened.
Aaron returned carrying a small black box.
“This was connected to the signal jammer.”
A red light blinked on its side.
Caroline looked toward the ceiling.
“Margaret said the wedding had to happen before midnight.”
“Why midnight?”
“My thirtieth birthday begins at midnight. Dad’s trust changes when I turn thirty.”
That detail had been buried in the original agreement. Until Caroline’s thirtieth birthday, I served as trustee. After midnight, all shares passed directly to her.
Preston had only a few hours to activate the fraudulent marriage transfer.
“Where is the vault?” I asked.
Caroline pointed toward the old wine cellar.
We found a steel door behind stacked tables. It required two forms of access.
A digital code.
And a jeweled key.
Aaron examined the lock.
“The brooch.”
Margaret’s missing diamond brooch was not merely jewelry.
It was part of the vault mechanism.
Preston had planted it in Sophie’s pocket because no guard would search an eight year old flower girl entering the ballroom. After accusing her, he planned to recover the brooch as stolen evidence.
The cruelty had been calculated from the beginning.
Caroline touched the control panel.
“Preston entered a code earlier.”
“Did you see it?”
“No.”
A soft sound came from the corridor.
Sophie stood at the bottom of the stairs with Lucy behind her.
I hurried toward them.
“You were supposed to stay upstairs.”
“The guards started fighting with the guests,” Lucy said. “It was not safe.”
Sophie held out her stuffed rabbit.
“I found this inside.”
A diamond brooch was tangled in the rabbit’s fabric.
Preston must have moved it from her jacket before throwing the sign. During the attack, it had fallen into the toy’s open pocket.
Sophie looked at the vault keypad.
“I know the numbers.”
I stared at her.
“How?”
“Preston made me stand near the door. I watched his hand.”
Aaron crouched beside her.
“You do not need to remember everything. Tell me only what you are certain about.”
Sophie pointed carefully.
“Seven. Two. Nine. One.”
Caroline looked at me.
“July twenty ninth. Mom’s birthday.”
Our mother had died twelve years earlier.
I inserted the brooch while Aaron entered the code.
The steel door opened.
Inside were shelves of ledgers, old photographs, sealed tapes, and computer drives.
A television screen activated automatically.
My father appeared on it.
He had recorded the message weeks before his death.
“If Evelyn is watching this,” he said, “then Thomas failed to stop them.”
I could barely breathe.
My father looked directly into the camera.
“Margaret Whitmore did not kill Thomas.”
Someone moved behind him in the recording.
May you like
“His own wife gave them the information they needed.”
Continue to the next part: A recording appears to accuse Evelyn of betraying the husband she still mourns.
