Chapter 8 - THE SECOND PHONE
By the next morning, federal financial investigators were involved.
Not because of Maya.
Because of the money.
Northbridge had received funds from three companies tied to Sterling household renovation projects.
Invoices were inflated.
Vendor names were duplicated.
Payments moved through Vivian’s holding company.
Then portions were transferred overseas.
What began as a child welfare investigation was becoming financial fraud.
Thomas arrived at the apartment with two coffees and a face that told me he hadn’t slept.
“We found the secondary phone.”
“Where?”
“In Eleanor’s dressing room.”
“The police missed it?”
“It was hidden inside an old jewelry case with a false bottom.”
I stared at him.
“You’re joking.”
“I wish.”
He placed an evidence summary on the table.
“The device itself is with police.”
“But they obtained a warrant to extract data.”
“What was on it?”
“Messages.”
“To Vivian?”
“Yes.”
“Helena?”
“Yes.”
“David Mercer?”
Thomas paused.
“Yes.”
I leaned back.
“So David lied because Eleanor pressured him.”
“Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
“He was being paid.”
I stared at him.
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars over eighteen months.”
“For what?”
Thomas looked almost embarrassed on behalf of humanity.
“He was sleeping with her.”
Silence.
I thought I would feel rage.
Jealousy.
Humiliation.
Something.
I felt almost nothing.
Compared with what she had done to Maya, infidelity felt trivial.
“Did he know about Maya?”
“That’s unclear.”
“He knew about the fake email campaign.”
My head snapped up.
“What?”
“He helped create some of them.”
“Why?”
“He works with digital reputation firms.”
“Apparently he arranged spoofed accounts and manipulated timestamps.”
I laughed once.
“Very useful dinner guest.”
Thomas did not smile.
“He also moved the home security server.”
“Where is it?”
“They recovered it from a storage locker.”
My heart began pounding.
“Can they get the footage?”
“Possibly.”
“How much?”
“The full thirty-day archive appears intact.”
I stood.
“Why would David preserve it?”
“Because Eleanor told him to destroy it.”
I frowned.
“Then why didn’t he?”
Thomas looked at me.
“Insurance.”
Of course.
People who betray everyone usually distrust everyone.
David kept evidence in case Eleanor turned on him.
And now that evidence might save my daughter from being called a liar.
By afternoon, investigators had recovered three weeks of footage.
Rebecca warned me not to watch everything.
I ignored her.
I watched enough.
Eleanor forcing Maya to eat on the kitchen floor.
Eleanor removing food from Maya’s lunch bag.
Eleanor checking the pantry camera from her phone.
Eleanor making Maya wipe the white dining rug on her hands and knees after Maya accidentally dropped juice.
Eleanor standing over Maya while Maya stared at a plate she wasn’t allowed to touch.
No dramatic beatings.
No obvious violence.
Nothing that would have looked monstrous in a single frozen frame.
That was what made it worse.
It was systematic.
Controlled.
Quiet.
Cruelty designed to avoid visible marks.
On one recording, Maya stood beside the table while Eleanor and Vivian ate dessert.
Vivian pointed toward a cake.
Maya watched.
Eleanor cut a slice.
For one second, I thought she might give it to her.
Instead, Eleanor carried the plate to the trash and scraped the cake into the bin.
Maya looked down.
Vivian laughed.
I shut the laptop.
“I’m done.”
Thomas sat across from me.
“There’s audio on the next clip.”
“I said I’m done.”
“You need to hear it.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because it concerns April 18.”
I forced myself to open the laptop again.
The footage showed Eleanor and David in the breakfast room.
Maya was not present.
David poured whiskey.
Eleanor paced.
Then her voice came clearly through the microphone.
“Once she’s gone, Richard will calm down.”
David answered.
“And if he doesn’t?”
“He will.”
“He hates conflict.”
“He’ll bury himself in work.”
David laughed.
“You sound very sure.”
Eleanor stopped pacing.
“He couldn’t even handle Sarah dying.”
“He disappeared into the company for three years.”
“If Maya is placed, he’ll do exactly the same thing.”
My stomach tightened.
Then David asked:
“And the trust?”
Eleanor smiled.
“He’ll sign.”
“What if Thomas reads the amendment?”
“He won’t.”
“Richard signs everything on planes.”
David laughed.
Then Eleanor said:
“April eighteenth.”
“After that, it won’t matter what Thomas thinks.”
David lowered his voice.
“And Richard?”
Eleanor looked directly toward the camera without knowing it was recording.
“He won’t be a problem forever.”
The clip ended.
Nobody spoke.
Thomas stared at the dark screen.
“That is not proof of a murder plan.”
“I know.”
“But it’s enough to terrify me.”
“Me too.”
My phone buzzed.
Detective Morris.
I answered.
“We recovered additional texts.”
“What kind?”
“One from Eleanor to Vivian.”
“Sent six days ago.”
“Read it.”
Detective Morris hesitated.
Then she did.
After the vote, he takes the jet to Denver.
Make sure the pilot change is confirmed.
My body went cold.
“I don’t understand.”
Thomas did.
His face drained of color.
“What?”
I asked.
He took out his phone.
“Richard.”
“You were scheduled to fly to Denver on April 19.”
“Yes.”
“Your regular pilot, Captain Ellis, took medical leave yesterday.”
I stared at him.
“How do you know?”
“Corporate travel sent the notice.”
Detective Morris asked, “Who chooses the replacement pilot?”
Thomas answered.
“Normally our aviation director.”
“Normally?”
“He’s on vacation.”
“Then who?”
I already knew.
Eleanor had taken over household and personal scheduling six months earlier.
Including private travel.
Thomas called the aviation office.
We waited.
One minute.
Two.
Then he looked at me.
“A replacement pilot was requested three weeks ago.”
“By Eleanor’s assistant.”
“What’s his name?”
Thomas listened.
His face changed.
Then he repeated it.
“Peter Cole.”
I frowned.
“Cole?”
Thomas stared at me.
“Vivian’s husband’s younger brother.”
The conspiracy tightened.
Detective Morris spoke through the phone.
“Do not contact him.”
“We won’t.”
“We will.”
That evening, agents went to Peter Cole’s apartment.
He was gone.
His car remained.
His passport was missing.
And inside a locked cabinet in his garage, investigators found aviation maintenance manuals.
Sterling flight schedules.
And photographs of my company jet.
Most were ordinary.
One was not.
May you like
It had been taken underneath the aircraft.
Someone had circled a hydraulic line in red marker.
