Chương 8
“Mom asked you for help, didn’t she?” Claire said.
Eleanor looked down.
“With Vivian.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t help her.”
“I thought she was jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Vivian’s position. Her marriage. Her access to your grandfather.”
“Mom hated this house.”
“People often hate what they want.”
“That sounds like something you told yourself.”
Eleanor’s hands began to tremble. “Lydia had taken the money.”
“To protect it.”
“She would not tell me where she put it.”
“Because she didn’t trust you.”
“I was her mother.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
Eleanor looked toward the parking lot. A delivery truck backed slowly into a space, beeping at regular intervals.
“Your aunt’s event company was failing,” she said. “Your grandfather had guaranteed loans. Vivian began billing the foundation for services she did not provide. Lydia found the invoices.”
“How much?”
“At first? Eighty thousand. Perhaps less.”
“And later?”
“I don’t know.”
“You ran the foundation.”
“Your grandfather ran it. I hosted people and signed what he put in front of me.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“No.”
The simple answer disarmed Claire more than denial would have.
Eleanor folded the edge of her cardigan over one hand. “Lydia moved two hundred thousand dollars from an operating account into a separate account. She said she was preserving evidence. Your grandfather called it theft. Vivian called the police.”
“What happened?”
“Lydia returned the money.”
“And?”
“The board forced her resignation. Your grandfather changed the trust. She was cut off.”
“You let them.”
“Yes.”
Claire stood so quickly the armchair rocked backward.
Eleanor flinched.
Claire saw it and hated herself.
“Did Mom ever steal for herself?”
“I found no proof.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
The word sat between them.
Claire walked to the window. In the parking lot, a nurse in purple scrubs was helping an old man into a minivan. The man kept trying to shut the door before his legs were inside.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Shame.”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
“After Mom died?”
“Especially after.”
Claire turned. “You came to the funeral.”
“I stood in the back.”
“You left before we saw you.”
“Yes.”
“Vivian spoke to everyone. You left.”
“I could not look at you.”
“That must have been difficult.”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Claire went into the hallway and called Nate.
He listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he said, “Mom knew?”
“She found the invoices.”
“No. I mean, did she know Grandma believed her?”
“I don’t think Grandma believed her until later.”
“When?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Ask.”
“I can’t right now.”
“Claire.”
“I said I can’t.”
He exhaled. “Okay.”
She leaned her head against the wall.
“I keep thinking about the last year Mom was sick,” Nate said. “Every bill. Every time she said we had to be careful. Two hundred thousand dollars was sitting somewhere?”
“She returned it.”
“I know. I just—”
“You’re allowed to be angry.”
“So are you.”
Claire looked through the doorway at Eleanor.
“I’m not sure I know how to be anything else here.”
On Saturday morning, Marcus Bell called.
“I need to speak off the record,” he said.
“There is no off the record.”
“Then I need to speak without your attorney.”
“No.”
He hung up.
Ten minutes later he sent an address for a diner halfway between Grayhaven and the assisted-living residence.
Elias told Claire not to go alone.
She brought Nate.
Marcus was seated in a rear booth with a cup of coffee untouched before him. Without the gray suit, he looked older. His left hand was wrapped in a compression glove Claire had not noticed at the mansion.
He watched Nate slide into the booth.
“I said Claire.”
“You also said no attorney,” Nate replied. “This is what you get.”
Marcus looked at Claire. “Vivian asked me to destroy the courtyard security footage.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
“On the house server. Backed up off-site every midnight.”
“Does Vivian know?”
“She thinks I disabled backup after the guardianship order.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because she asked me to.”
Claire waited.
Marcus finally picked up the coffee and put it down without drinking. “I’ve worked for that family twenty-one years. Your grandfather hired me after I left the department. I have done things I’m not proud of. Mostly small. Kept reporters out. Discouraged former employees from returning. Walked board members to their cars when conversations became unpleasant.”
“Did you lock Eleanor in the cage?”
“No.”
“Did you know they were going to?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you open it when you arrived?”
His jaw tightened. “Vivian showed me the order. Said Eleanor had assaulted Marta. Said a geriatric psychiatrist was on the way.”
“Did you believe her?”
“For about thirty seconds.”
“What changed?”
“I saw the bowls.”
Nate looked away.
Marcus rubbed his gloved hand. “I should have opened it.”
“Yes,” Claire said.
He nodded.
No defense. No excuse.
It made her angrier.
“What is on the footage?” she asked.
“No audio in the courtyard. Video shows Marta guiding Mrs. Bennett into the enclosure. Shows Vivian remove the chair. Shows guests approach, speak, walk away. Shows Mrs. Bennett shake the door twice. Shows you arrive.”
“Will you preserve it?”
“I already did.”
“Will you testify?”
Marcus looked toward the diner windows. His truck was parked directly outside, clean except for mud around the tires.
“Vivian knows things about me,” he said.
“What things?”
“Not relevant.”
“They become relevant if they affect whether you tell the truth.”
He stared at her. “There was an incident ten years ago. A foundation employee accused a trustee of assault. I persuaded her not to file a report.”
“Persuaded?”
“I told her she would lose her job and no one would believe her.”
Nate whispered, “Jesus.”
“The trustee paid a settlement,” Marcus said. “She signed a nondisclosure agreement. I told myself that made it resolved.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
“Vivian knows.”
“She arranged the settlement.”
May you like
Claire sat back.
If Marcus testified, Vivian could expose him. If he stayed silent, the cage footage might still be obtained through court order, but his account of the request to destroy it would be lost.
