Chapter 2 - The Man In The Foyer
I put Noah in his car seat before I called Ray.
Not Eleanor.
Not Vanessa.
Ray.
I still had his number because six years earlier he'd arranged emergency plumbing at my apartment while I was traveling.
I had never deleted it.
The call rang four times.
Then:
“Olivia.”
No question.
He knew.
I sat behind the wheel but didn't start the car.
“You were in my mother's foyer.”
“Yes.”
“You told someone not to open something.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Silence.
“Ray.”
“Eleanor.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“You meant don't let Eleanor open it.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“The steel cabinet in the old service workshop.”
I looked through the windshield toward the dark side wing behind the mansion.
“What cabinet?”
“You've seen it.”
“I haven't.”
“Probably because she made sure you had no reason to.”
Noah sniffed behind me.
I turned.
He had stopped crying.
That helped.
“Why does my mother want the key?”
“Because demolition starts tomorrow.”
“What demolition?”
“The service wing renovation.”
I knew about that.
Eleanor had spent two months complaining about contractors.
New guest rooms.
Larger kitchen.
An office she would insist wasn't necessary while designing every drawer.
“What does demolition have to do with a cabinet?”
“They're clearing that whole workshop at eight tomorrow morning.”
“So?”
Ray took a breath.
“That cabinet hasn't been opened in three years.”
My pulse changed.
“Three.”
“Yes.”
“Ben.”
Ray went quiet.
I closed my eyes.
“Say it.”
“It was locked the week Ben Lawson left your house.”
My husband.
Technically still my husband.
We had been separated for almost three years and had managed to turn postponing divorce into a shared hobby.
“What is inside?”
“I don't know what is still inside.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It’s the only honest one.”
I hated that.
“Why were you at the house?”
“Because someone from the renovation company called me.”
“Why you?”
“My name was still on an old service inventory.”
“They asked about the cabinet?”
“Yes. It's bolted to the wall. They wanted to know whether it was scrap or family storage.”
“And?”
“I told them not to touch it until I spoke to Eleanor.”
“You called her.”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“That she'd take care of it tonight.”
My stomach tightened.
“So she went looking for the key.”
“Yes.”
“Was it hers?”
“No.”
“Whose?”
Ray hesitated.
“Your father's.”
My father had been dead seven years.
“What did Dad keep in there?”
“Tools. Receipts. Household things he didn't want mixed into the main office.”
“After he died?”
“Eleanor used it.”
“For what?”
Silence again.
I was getting tired of people making suspense out of my life.
“Ray.”
He spoke carefully.
“Do you remember Eleanor's sapphire brooch?”
I stopped.
Of course I remembered it.
Oval sapphire.
Diamond border.
Belonged to my grandmother.
Worth enough money that when it disappeared three years earlier, everyone in our family had immediately started lying about not caring what it was worth.
Ben had been renovating built-in shelves in Eleanor's study that week.
He had business debt I didn't know about.
He had been in the study alone.
He lied to me about why.
The brooch disappeared.
Two weeks later Ben moved out.
My mother never filed charges.
She said she couldn't bear the scandal.
I had once admired her restraint.
My mouth went dry.
“What does that brooch have to do with the cabinet?”
Ray did not answer directly.
“Ask Ben why he was in Eleanor's study.”
“I did.”
“Ask again.”
“Ray.”
“And ask your mother why she stopped searching for the brooch after forty-eight hours.”
I stared at the mansion.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying Ben was not the last person I saw with that jewelry case.”
My heartbeat changed.
“Who was?”
Ray went quiet.
Then:
“Eleanor.”
I closed my eyes.
Behind me, Noah said:
“Home?”
I looked at him in the mirror.
“Yes, baby.”
Then back at the phone.
“Meet me tomorrow morning.”
“Olivia—”
“Before the contractors.”
Silence.
Then:
“Seven-thirty.”
I ended the call.
Eleanor came out of the house before I started the engine.
She walked straight toward my car.
I lowered the window two inches.
“You spoke to him.”
“Yes.”
Her face hardened.
“He is a bitter former employee.”
“Why did you fire him?”
“None of your concern.”
“He says it happened the same week Ben left.”
“That proves nothing.”
“Why did you stop looking for Grandma's brooch after two days?”
Her face changed.
Small.
Enough.
“Go home, Olivia.”
“I am.”
“Bring me the key tomorrow.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“Do not open that cabinet.”
I stared at her.
“Ray told me the opposite.”
“That man does not know what he is reopening.”
“What am I reopening?”
My mother looked at Noah.
Then back at me.
“Your marriage ended for more than one reason.”
The sentence frightened me more than a denial would have.
May you like
Because she had not said Ben stole the brooch.
Not once.
