Part 27
“What did she say?”
“She said public records.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“I told her that.”
Despite herself, Lily smiled.
Her father’s voice sharpened. “Lily.”
“I didn’t manipulate anyone.”
“Did you get a house?”
She looked across the foyer toward the open doorway of the library. Graham’s reading lamp was still on a timer. It had come alive at dusk, illuminating an empty leather chair.
“Yes.”
There was silence.
Then her father said, “Is it the big one?”
“Yes.”
“The one with the stone lions?”
“They’re griffins.”
“Whatever. The ugly ones.”
“They’re not ugly.”
“They have wings and teeth.”
“That’s generally the idea.”
Claire watched her, eyebrows raised.
Her father did not laugh. “Why did he give you a house?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know something.”
“He wanted it preserved.”
“He could have given it to a museum.”
“He tried. They wouldn’t take the operating costs.”
“So he found someone with less sense.”
“That was part of it.”
“Don’t joke.”
Lily rubbed her bare foot against the stair runner. “I told him no.”
“And?”
“He signed the deed.”
“That doesn’t make you keep it.”
“No.”
“Are you keeping it?”
She looked at the brass keys on the step between herself and Claire.
“I don’t know.”
Her father breathed through his nose. She could picture him at the kitchen table in his small townhouse, reading glasses low on his face, the television muted because he believed mute buttons preserved concentration.
“What happened with the jewelry?” he asked.
The question made her sit upright. “How do you know about that?”
“The reporter said you were caught with a sapphire.”
Claire held out her hand for the phone.
Lily shook her head.
“I wasn’t caught,” she said. “Eleanor handed me a box and asked me to put it in my bag.”
“Why would you do that?”
The simplicity of the question hurt more than accusation.
“Because there were people watching. Because saying no would have looked strange. Because I thought she wanted me to refuse. I don’t know.”
“You put someone else’s expensive jewelry in your purse?”
“Yes.”
“Lily.”
“I know.”
“You always say you know after you do the thing.”
She pressed her fingers against her forehead.
Her father’s voice softened. “Are the police involved?”
“A deputy took the box.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“Claire says no.”
Claire mouthed, Correct.
“Who is Claire?” her father asked.
“The estate attorney.”
“Not your attorney?”
“No.”
“Then stop saying Claire says.”
Lily looked at Claire.
Claire mouthed, Also correct.
Her father continued, “Come home tonight.”
“I need to stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian may be locked out of the carriage house. Because the security codes need to be changed. Because I have the keys.”
“You had keys before today.”
“Not these keys.”
“Keys don’t make you responsible for a mansion.”
She looked at the dark library.
“They might.”
Her father was silent for a long time. “Your mother would hate this.”
Lily’s hand tightened around the phone.
He had not meant it cruelly. That made it worse.
Her mother had spent seven years working in Bellweather House as a junior objects conservator under Graham’s first wife, Marianne. She had left after Marianne’s death and refused to explain why. Whenever Lily asked about the Whitmores, her mother changed the subject or complained about the cheap instant coffee served in the conservation room.
Three weeks before dying, she told Lily never to confuse being needed with being loved.
At twenty-two, Lily had assumed the sentence referred to her father.
At twenty-six, working alone with Graham in the blue drawing room, she began to suspect it had been about Bellweather.
“I have to go,” Lily said.
“Come home.”
“I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Tonight.”
“Tomorrow.”
She ended the call before he could answer.
Claire stared at the portrait across the hall. “I dislike agreeing with parents.”
“He’s not wrong.”
“No.”
“You could pretend.”
“I’m already charging less than my standard rate. That is the full extent of my dishonesty.”
Lily leaned forward and covered her face.
The front door opened.
She looked up quickly.
Adrian stepped inside carrying a cardboard box filled with records. Deputy Alvarez followed with his phone in one hand.
“Sorry,” he said. “The door was unlocked.”
Lily lowered her hands. “It’s your house too. For tonight. Probably.”
Claire sighed.
“Right,” Lily said. “Occupancy agreement.”
Deputy Alvarez handed Adrian his phone. “I have what I need. Do not delete anything, even if it seems unrelated.”
“I won’t.”
She looked at Lily. “I’ll be in touch after speaking with Mrs. Whitmore’s attorney and reviewing the messages.”
“Am I being investigated?”
“You are involved in an incident involving valuable property. That is not the same thing.”
“Can I say that to reporters?”
“You can. They will shorten it.”
Claire stood. “I’ll handle media questions.”
The deputy put on her hat. “You may want to secure the house tonight. Mrs. Whitmore left through the east gate, but she has staff access codes and may have spare keys.”
Lily looked at the brass ring.
“The electronic system can be changed remotely,” Adrian said. “I know the administrator login.”
Claire gave him a measured look. “Why?”
“Because Mrs. Whitmore doesn’t.”
That was the closest he came to smiling.
After the deputy left, the three of them stood in the foyer beneath the chandelier.
Lily asked, “What did the messages say?”
Adrian held his record box tighter against his chest. “Exactly what I told her.”
“Did Eleanor write that she wanted to frame me?”
“No.”
“Of course not.”
“She wrote that you had been taking items and that she wanted the bag switched after you accepted the box. She said the original should go in her car and the duplicate should be left at your chair.”
“What was in the hidden pocket?”
“Nothing when it arrived. She added something this morning.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire said, “The deputy has the duplicate.”
May you like
Lily looked toward the drive. “What if there was something else inside it?”
“She inspected the main compartments at the table,” Claire said.
