Chapter 3 - THE WEST ARCHIVE
The west archive was behind the old library.
I had passed the door twice.
Heavy oak.
No handle.
Electronic lock.
Bess told me nobody entered.
Not even Garrett.
Apparently that had been a lie.
Or maybe only Garrett had believed it.
Security opened the room.
Dust coated everything.
Shelves.
Boxes.
Old filing cabinets.
Portraits turned toward the wall.
Garrett stood in the doorway for several seconds.
“This was my father’s.”
Celeste folded her arms.
“I was looking for wedding documents.”
“In a sealed archive?”
“I thought the family trust files might be here.”
Garrett looked at her.
“Our wedding does not involve my father’s trust.”
Celeste smiled faintly.
“Everything in this family involves the trust.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Inside, one drawer had been forced open.
Its lock hung crooked.
Files were missing.
Garrett noticed immediately.
“Where are they?”
Celeste shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
Then I saw something on the floor.
A torn strip of paper.
I picked it up.
Bess leaned closer.
The paper was old.
Yellowed at the edge.
A typed name remained visible.
THOMAS BECKETT.
My father.
My hand went cold.
Garrett saw my face.
“What?”
I held up the paper.
“That’s my father.”
Celeste stared at me.
Not surprised.
That told me everything.
“You know that name.”
She looked away.
Garrett turned toward her.
“Celeste.”
“I’ve heard it.”
“Where?”
“Old employee records.”
My voice sharpened.
“My father never worked here.”
Garrett slowly looked at me.
“Are you sure?”
“He worked for Harwick Shipping.”
Silence.
Garrett’s family business.
Not the estate.
His father owned shipping yards across the Northeast.
My father spent twenty-two years at one of them.
Until he became sick.
Until they fired him.
Until we lost everything.
I looked at Garrett.
“Your father signed the letter terminating him.”
Garrett’s expression shifted.
“I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
Celeste suddenly laughed.
“So that’s why you came here.”
I turned.
“What?”
“You want everyone to believe you’re some brave little maid who wandered into the lion’s den.”
Her smile sharpened.
“But you came for revenge.”
“No.”
“Then why does your father’s name just happen to be in a locked family archive?”
I hated that I didn’t have an answer.
Garrett opened the broken drawer.
Inside remained a file index.
He scanned the names.
Then stopped.
THOMAS BECKETT.
INVESTIGATION.
CONFIDENTIAL.
My father had not merely been an employee.
He had been investigated.
I reached for the folder.
Empty.
Celeste watched me.
Garrett looked at her.
“You took it.”
“No.”
“Your access code opened this room.”
“That proves I entered.”
“Why?”
She smiled.
“Ask Laura.”
My stomach tightened.
Garrett’s eyes moved toward me.
Celeste stepped closer.
“Ask her what her father was accused of stealing from your family.”
I looked at her.
“My father never stole anything.”
Celeste’s voice softened.
“That’s not what the Harwicks believed.”
May you like
Then she leaned toward me.
“Your father died broke because he knew something he should have forgotten.”
