Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN BEHIND JULIAN COLE
Victoria Cole arrived at the penthouse at 11:48 p.m.
Detective Ortiz saw her limousine enter the private garage.
She swore.
ADA Bell looked over.
“What?”
“Julian’s mother.”
Bell went rigid.
Victoria Cole was not famous because she wanted attention.
She was famous because people with attention wanted her approval.
Old money.
Political donations.
Hospital boards.
Judges at her dinner table.
A private mental health foundation in her name.
Ortiz looked at Bell.
“Bellweather Psychiatric Center.”
His face changed.
“What about it?”
“Victoria Cole sits on the board.”
Upstairs, Emma had just learned the same thing.
Rachel grabbed her arm.
“We need to hide.”
“No.”
“Emma, she’s worse than him.”
“That’s why I’m done hiding.”
Emma walked toward the service corridor.
Rachel stared after her.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting another confession.”
“You lost the transmitter!”
Emma turned.
“The main transmitter.”
Rachel blinked.
Emma pulled a tiny pearl stud from her ear.
A second microphone was hidden inside.
Rachel’s mouth opened.
“You had a backup?”
“My sister died because she trusted one copy of the truth.”
Emma put the earring back in.
“I brought three.”
Across Manhattan, Ortiz’s dead audio channel suddenly crackled.
Then Emma’s voice came through.
“My sister died because she trusted one copy of the truth.”
Ortiz almost shouted.
“We have her!”
Bell grabbed headphones.
Emma continued walking.
The elevator to the lower level required Julian’s fingerprint.
Rachel held up the black card.
“This overrides office security, not residential.”
Emma studied the panel.
“Does Julian ever use a master code?”
Rachel hesitated.
“Yes.”
“You know it?”
“I saw him enter it once.”
“Try.”
Rachel entered eight digits.
Red light.
ACCESS DENIED.
“Again.”
Rachel changed two numbers.
Red.
Footsteps echoed nearby.
Rachel panicked.
“I don’t remember!”
Emma listened.
Three guards.
Maybe four.
“Rachel.”
“I’m trying.”
“Look at me.”
Rachel did.
“Forget the numbers.”
“What?”
“Remember where his fingers moved.”
Rachel stared at the keypad.
Then slowly entered another sequence.
Green.
ACCESS GRANTED.
The elevator doors opened.
They stepped inside.
Rachel whispered, “Lower level?”
Emma nodded.
“You heard what he said.”
“He wants us there.”
“Good.”
“That is not good.”
“People reveal the most when they think they control the room.”
The elevator descended.
One floor.
Two.
Emma frowned.
The penthouse was supposedly the top floor.
They descended three levels inside the building’s private core.
The doors opened.
White hallway.
Clinical lighting.
No windows.
Rachel whispered, “Oh my God.”
At the end stood Victoria Cole.
Sixty-three.
Perfect gray-blonde hair.
Cream silk suit.
Not one sign of panic.
Beside her stood Dr. Warren.
And Julian.
Julian smiled at Emma.
“Mom, meet Sarah Reeves’s little sister.”
Victoria’s expression did not change.
She looked Emma up and down.
Then sighed.
“Julian.”
“Yes?”
“You idiot.”
May you like
She stepped forward.
“You actually married her.”
