Chương 6
“You are.”
“I meant inside.”
Daniel looked past him toward the estate. “My kitchen is small.”
“I’ve been in it.”
“Not since my wife left.”
Adrian remembered too late that Daniel’s former wife, Lucy, had moved to Albany three years earlier. The divorce had been quiet by estate standards. Adrian’s mother had handled the revised cottage agreement and adjusted Daniel’s schedule during custody exchanges.
“I’m sorry,” Adrian said.
“For which part?”
The door opened wider.
The cottage smelled of toast, wet wool, and the eucalyptus salve Daniel used on the children during winter. Toys occupied the living room without apology. A paper snowflake hung crookedly over the window.
Iris sat on the stairs in flannel pajamas, watching Adrian.
Her cheek had been cleaned. The scrape was smaller than it had appeared beneath the dining-room lights. A narrow strip of medical tape closed the torn sleeve of her dress, which lay folded on a chair.
“You said Noah was safe,” she said.
“He was.”
“You didn’t know yet.”
Adrian removed his gloves.
“No,” he said. “I didn’t.”
“Then you lied.”
Daniel looked at his daughter but did not correct her.
Adrian sat on the bottom step, leaving space between them. “I believed the men I sent would reach him.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
Iris picked at a loose thread on her pajama cuff. “Adults say things are fine when they want children to stop talking.”
“I wanted you to stop being afraid.”
“It didn’t work.”
“No.”
Noah appeared behind her, dragging a blanket. “Did you find my shoe?”
“Not yet,” Adrian said.
“It has a gold buckle.”
“I’ll ask Bernard.”
“Bernard knows everything.”
Daniel made a sound that might have been a laugh, but there was no humor in it.
Iris looked at Adrian’s jacket. “You wore the same one.”
“I noticed the sleeve.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“It looks bad.”
“So did the coffee Bernard gave me.”
She considered whether this was worth smiling at and decided it was not.
Adrian turned to Daniel. “I’m placing Celeste’s access to the property on suspension. Thomas has changed the codes and collected her keys. There will be an independent review.”
“My children aren’t part of your corporate review.”
“No.”
“They’re not a security problem to fix.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Adrian looked at the dress on the chair.
“I should have known how she spoke to people in this house,” he said. “I heard enough of it.”
Daniel folded his arms. “You heard all of it.”
The accusation was fair and still made Adrian defensive.
“I was not present for every conversation.”
“You didn’t need to be. She moved the staff lunch by two hours because she didn’t like seeing uniforms in the south corridor. She told Emma to stop bringing her sister to the library. She asked whether my children’s bicycles could be kept out of sight when guests came.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Daniel stared at him. “We did.”
Adrian began to answer, then stopped.
Bernard had mentioned morale. Emma had requested a private appointment and canceled it after Celeste joined the meeting. Daniel had once asked whether the cottage agreement would survive the land sale, and Adrian had told him lawyers were reviewing all obligations.
Each warning had arrived disguised as something manageable.
Iris came down one step. “Are you selling our house?”
“The estate is not your house,” Adrian almost said.
The words formed from habit, inheritance, and the same narrow logic Celeste had used the night before. He caught them before they left his mouth.
“The cottage is your home,” he said.
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Daniel leaned against the wall. He looked tired enough to be cruel and too tired to enjoy it.
Adrian answered the child. “I was considering selling part of the estate.”
“The part with our house?”
“Possibly.”
“Where would we go?”
“There would have been arrangements.”
“What arrangements?”
“I don’t know.”
Iris looked at her father. “He doesn’t know.”
“No,” Daniel said. “He doesn’t.”
Adrian stood. “I will not ask you to trust me this morning.”
“Good,” Daniel replied.
“I need the children to speak with the investigators again. Only with you present, and only if the person interviewing them is trained to speak with children.”
Daniel’s expression shifted slightly. Practical concerns could still reach him where apologies could not.
“Who arranged that?”
“Margaret.”
“She works for you.”
“Not on this matter. I told her to find independent counsel for the family, paid from my personal account.”
Daniel shook his head. “Money doesn’t make someone independent.”
“No. But you can choose the attorney.”
The kitchen heater clicked off. Cold air seemed to enter the room at once.
Daniel looked toward his children. “I’ll think about it.”
Adrian nodded.
As he reached the door, Iris called after him.
“Mr. Vale.”
He turned.
“Celeste said the letter would make you hate your mother.”
Daniel’s head lifted.
Adrian felt the room narrow around him. “When did she say that?”
“In the morning room. Noah asked why she was taking it. She said it was better if you never read it because dead people don’t have to live with what they write.”
“Did she open the envelope?”
“No. She tried. Then Noah knocked over the cranberry bowl.”
Noah spoke from beneath his blanket. “It was already near the edge.”
“It wasn’t,” Iris said.
“It was near enough.”
Adrian stepped back into the room. “Tell me everything you remember.”
They had been in the main house because Emma had promised them the leftover miniature desserts after the guests were served. Iris was supposed to wait in the staff pantry. Noah had followed the cat into the east gallery, though the estate had not kept a cat in eight years.
“It was gray,” Noah insisted.
“It was a dust cloth,” Iris said.
“It moved.”
May you like
“Because you stepped on it.”
The argument had taken them near the morning room, where they heard a drawer slam. Celeste was kneeling beside the desk with the cream envelope in her hand. She told them she was preparing a surprise for Adrian.
