Chapter 2 - WHEN DID YOU MEET HER?
Vanessa did not cry.
Not yet.
She stepped backward into her office and pointed through the open glass door.
“All of you. Inside.”
Adrian remained in the hallway.
“Vanessa, this woman came onto a restricted executive floor under false pretenses.”
Eleanor answered:
“I came upstairs with a mop.”
Vanessa looked at her husband.
“Inside.”
Something in her voice finally moved him.
Eleanor left the cleaning cart where it stood.
A facilities supervisor appeared at the far end of the hall.
Vanessa told him:
“No one removes that cart. No one touches anything on it.”
Adrian stared.
“You are turning cleaning supplies into evidence now?”
“I don’t know what I’m turning into evidence.”
She shut the office door.
Then placed the locket on her desk.
The second photograph beside it.
“Who is she?”
Adrian gave her a look that made Vanessa’s stomach turn.
Not confusion.
Calculation.
“You know who she looks like.”
“No.”
Vanessa pointed at the photograph.
“Say her name.”
Adrian looked toward Eleanor.
Then back.
“Catherine Hayes.”
Vanessa’s breath caught.
The room felt suddenly too bright.
“My mother.”
“Yes.”
“Alive.”
“In that photograph.”
Vanessa stared.
“That is not an answer.”
“It was taken three years ago.”
She almost missed the sentence.
Three years.
Vanessa and Adrian had been married for five.
“Where?”
“A lawyer’s office in Vermont.”
“You met my mother in Vermont.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Adrian rubbed his shoulder where he had hit the desk.
“She contacted the company.”
Vanessa laughed once.
Nothing about it was amusement.
“The company.”
“She made a legal claim.”
“She was dead.”
“That was what everyone believed.”
Eleanor spoke.
“No. That was what Vanessa was told.”
Adrian turned on her.
“You do not get to rewrite this now.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“I don’t need to.”
Vanessa stepped between their voices.
“Stop.”
Both did.
She looked at Eleanor.
“Who are you?”
Eleanor’s expression changed.
“My name is Eleanor Hayes.”
“I heard that.”
“I’m Catherine’s sister.”
Vanessa stared.
Her mother had a sister.
Aunt Eleanor.
A woman Vanessa remembered only in fragments.
Red sweater.
Cigarette smoke outside a kitchen door.
A birthday card with a pressed flower.
Then nothing after Vanessa turned eight.
“You’re my aunt.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you wearing a janitor’s uniform?”
“Because every letter I sent your executive office came back.”
Vanessa looked at Adrian.
His jaw tightened.
Eleanor continued.
“Every appointment request got canceled. Two certified packages were rejected. Last month, somebody from corporate security told me that if I came onto company property again, I would be removed.”
Vanessa stared at her husband.
“You knew she was trying to reach me.”
Adrian answered:
“I knew a woman connected to Catherine was attempting to bypass counsel.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“Yes.”
The word dropped between them.
Vanessa looked at the photograph again.
“Is my mother alive now?”
Neither answered quickly.
Vanessa’s voice sharpened.
“Is she alive today?”
Eleanor nodded.
“Yes.”
Vanessa gripped the desk.
Adrian said:
“She is in assisted living.”
Eleanor immediately corrected him.
“Rehabilitation housing. She had a stroke last year.”
“Where?”
Eleanor looked at Adrian.
Then Vanessa.
“I’ll tell you after your husband is no longer able to reach her first.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“That is insane.”
Eleanor did not move.
“You called her facility from the parking garage this morning.”
Vanessa turned.
Adrian froze.
Eleanor reached into the soaked pocket of her uniform again.
This time she pulled out a folded piece of paper.
A phone log.
One number circled.
Vanessa recognized Adrian’s personal mobile number.
Outgoing call.
8:11 a.m.
Eleanor said:
“He knew I was coming.”
Vanessa looked at Adrian.
“How?”
Adrian did not answer.
May you like
Eleanor did.
“Because somebody inside this company has been reading my mail before you ever see it.”
