Chapter 9: The Woman Who Never Stopped Loving Me
Alexander arrived at the mansion forty minutes later.
He wasn't alone.
Eleanor Harrington stepped out of the car behind him.
She carried a small leather handbag and wore a dark blue coat.
When she saw me standing at the entrance, her eyes immediately filled with tears.
“Camille.””
I stared at her.
“Please come inside.””
We entered the library.
I placed the photograph on the table.
Eleanor looked at it.
Then she closed her eyes.
“I wondered when you would find that.””
I sat opposite her.
“Did you know my mother?””
She nodded.
“She was my closest friend.””
I looked at Alexander.
He remained standing near the window.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?””
Eleanor sat down.
“Because your father asked us not to.””
I felt something tighten in my chest.
“Why?””
She folded her hands.
“Your mother was a very private woman. She had been dealing with a difficult situation involving someone she trusted.””
“Who?””
Eleanor looked at me.
“Vanessa.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
“Vanessa and your mother had known each other for years. They were friends before your father married Vanessa.””
I shook my head.
“That doesn't make sense.””
“I know.””
Eleanor reached into her handbag.
She removed an old envelope.
“This is something your mother gave me.””
The envelope was addressed to Eleanor.
The date was six months before the accident.
I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Eleanor,
I am frightened.
Vanessa has been asking questions about Daniel's business and the trust he established for Camille. I don't think she understands how much damage she could cause.
Daniel says he will handle it, but I worry that he is being too trusting.
If anything happens to me, please make sure Camille knows that I loved her more than anything.
I stopped reading.
My throat tightened.
There was another paragraph.
I have also made arrangements with our solicitor. There is a document that must remain protected until Camille is old enough to understand it.
I looked up.
“What document?””
Eleanor took a breath.
“Your mother had established a separate inheritance account for you.””
I frowned.
“Another trust?””
“Yes. It was created with money from her own family.””
I stared at her.
“My mother's family?””
Eleanor nodded.
“Your maternal grandfather owned a successful textile manufacturing company. Your mother inherited a substantial share before she married your father.””
I sat back.
I had never known that.
My mother had always told me stories about her childhood, but never about money.
Eleanor continued.
“She wanted you to have something independent of Daniel's business.””
“Where is it?””
“Still protected. Your mother appointed a solicitor to administer it.””
I stared at her.
“Why wasn't it included in my father's estate?””
“Because it was never part of his estate.””
I looked at the letter again.
“Does Vanessa know?””
Eleanor hesitated.
“I believe she discovered it shortly before your mother's accident.””
The room seemed to shrink.
“Why would she care?””
Alexander finally spoke.
“Because your mother's trust was worth considerably more than anyone realized.””
I looked at him.
“How much?””
He exchanged a glance with his mother.
Eleanor answered.
“Approximately twelve million dollars when it was established.””
I closed my eyes.
Another fortune.
Another secret.
Another reason someone might have wanted control over my mother's affairs.
“Are you saying Vanessa had something to do with my mother's accident?””
Eleanor shook her head quickly.
“No. I'm not accusing anyone of that.””
“Then why did you say she was involved?””
“Because she was the last person to speak to your mother before the accident.””
I stood.
“What?””
Eleanor's eyes filled.
“Your mother called me that night. She said she had discovered something about the trust. She was frightened.””
“What did she say?””
“She told me she was going to meet Vanessa and demand an explanation.””
I looked at the photograph.
“And afterward?””
“Your mother left the house. She was involved in a collision on the highway.””
I felt dizzy.
“Was Vanessa with her?””
“No.””
“Did anyone investigate?””
“The police did.””
“And?””
Eleanor looked down.
“The official report concluded that the accident was caused by poor visibility and wet road conditions.””
I stared at her.
“Then why are you telling me this now?””
She reached across the table.
“Because I received something last week.””
She removed another envelope.
Inside was a photograph of a handwritten note.
It was addressed to Eleanor.
The handwriting belonged to my mother.
If I cannot speak to Camille, tell her to look inside the blue music box.
I stared at the words.
“The blue music box?””
Eleanor nodded.
“Your mother gave it to me for safekeeping. I never opened it.””
I stood immediately.
“Where is it?””
“In my car.””
Ten minutes later, Eleanor placed the small blue music box on the library table.
It was decorated with silver stars.
I recognized it.
My mother had owned it when I was little.
I remembered turning the tiny key and watching a ballerina spin while a soft melody played.
My fingers trembled as I opened the lid.
The ballerina was still there.
But beneath the velvet lining was a small hidden compartment.
Inside was a key.
And a folded piece of paper.
I unfolded it.
The handwriting was my mother's.
Camille,
If you have found this, then you are old enough to understand why I kept certain things from you.
There is a safety deposit box at the First National Bank. The key is attached.
Inside is the original trust agreement, along with a letter from your grandfather.
Please do not let anyone else access it.
Especially Vanessa.
I looked at Eleanor.
“Why did you keep this?””
“Because your mother asked me to.””
“Why didn't you give it to my father?””
Eleanor looked down.
“Because he already knew about the trust. He was the one who helped her establish it.””
I swallowed.
“Then why didn't he tell me?””
“Your father believed you should have the choice to discover it when you were ready.””
I stared at the key.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then Alexander moved closer.
“Camille, I'll go with you.””
I looked at him.
“Thank you.””
The following morning, we visited the bank.
The safety deposit box was registered under my mother's maiden name.
The manager verified my identity and the original key.
Then he led us into a private room.
I opened the box.
Inside were several documents.
The trust agreement.
A letter from my maternal grandfather.
A collection of photographs.
And one sealed envelope marked:
*FOR CAMILLE — TO BE OPENED ONLY BY HER.*
I opened the envelope.
The first page was a legal document.
It confirmed that I was the sole beneficiary of my mother's inheritance.
The second page contained a list of assets.
The third was a letter.
I recognized the handwriting from the blue music box.
My darling Camille,
I wish I could tell you all of this in person.
There are things about my life that I never explained because I wanted you to grow up without fear.
Your father is a good man. He loves you. But he trusted people too easily.
Vanessa has always been fascinated by what other people possess. I once believed she was simply insecure.
I was wrong.
I paused.
Then continued.
I discovered that she had been accessing private financial information through someone at Bennett Holdings. I confronted her. She denied everything.
I have reason to believe she was attempting to gain control of both your father's company and my inheritance.
My hands began to shake.
There was more.
I have instructed my solicitor to preserve all correspondence and financial records. If anything happens to me, I want the investigation to continue.
I also want you to know that none of this changes what matters most.
You were my greatest joy.
I lowered the letter.
Alexander stood beside me.
“Camille?””
I couldn't answer.
I turned to the final page.
It contained the name of the solicitor who had administered my mother's trust.
*Margaret Collins.*
And beneath her name was a handwritten note.
Margaret knows the truth about the night of the accident.
I looked up.
“Alexander, we need to find her.””
Margaret Collins lived in Connecticut.
She was seventy-eight years old and had retired from legal practice more than a decade earlier.
When we arrived at her home, she was waiting on the porch.
She recognized me immediately.
“Camille Bennett.””
I nodded.
“Ms. Collins.””
She looked at the letter in my hand.
Then she sighed.
“I wondered when you would come.””
We sat in her living room.
The furniture was old-fashioned.
A clock ticked on the mantel.
And beside the fireplace stood a photograph of my mother.
Margaret touched the frame.
“She was a wonderful woman.””
I swallowed.
“What happened the night she died?””
Margaret was quiet for a long time.
Then she said:
“Your mother had discovered that someone had been trying to alter the beneficiary records of her inheritance.””
“Vanessa?””
Margaret nodded.
“She had also discovered that Leonard Cross was involved.””
I leaned forward.
“Did Vanessa cause the accident?””
Margaret looked directly at me.
“I cannot tell you that.””
My heart sank.
“But I can tell you something the police never knew.””
She stood and walked toward a cabinet.
From a locked drawer, she removed a small folder.
Inside was a copy of an insurance investigation.
I looked at the first page.
Then the second.
My hands went cold.
The report stated that the vehicle involved in my mother's accident had been serviced two days before the collision.
The mechanic had recorded a brake-system irregularity.
But the repair had never been completed.
I looked up.
“Who authorized the service?””
Margaret placed another document in front of me.
A payment receipt.
The account holder was a company associated with Leonard Cross.
And the person who approved the invoice was—
*Vanessa Bellamy.*
I stared at the paper.
Margaret spoke softly.
“Your mother suspected Vanessa had tampered with the car. She was on her way to meet me when the accident happened.””
I could barely breathe.
“Why wasn't this investigated?””
“Because the evidence disappeared.””
“Who made it disappear?””
Margaret looked toward the window.
“Leonard Cross.””
The room fell silent.
Then she reached for another envelope.
“Your mother left one final instruction.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
Margaret placed it in front of me.
“She wanted you to know that Vanessa wasn't the only person responsible.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who else?””
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
“Someone your father trusted more than anyone.””
I opened the envelope.
May you like
Inside was a single name.
*Richard Harrington.*
