Chapter 4 - What Julian Saw at Seventeen
Julian did not speak again until they were inside his private office.
Abby stood beside the windows with her mother’s file pressed against her chest.
Julian poured water.
His hand shook enough for the bottle to touch the rim of the glass.
Abby noticed.
“Who took the bracelet?”
Julian placed the bottle down.
“I need to be certain.”
“You just said you saw it.”
“I said I remembered something.”
“Then remember faster.”
He looked at her.
“At seventeen, I was recovering from a skiing accident.”
Abby’s patience thinned.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I spent most of that autumn at home.”
He sat.
“My parents entertained constantly.”
“Business dinners?”
“Politicians.”
“Investors.”
“Board members.”
“My aunt Celeste.”
Abby recognized the name.
Celeste Cross appeared in magazines almost as often as Julian.
She chaired the Cross Foundation.
She spoke about women’s opportunities.
She donated millions to hospitals.
“What about her?”
Julian rubbed his temple.
“One afternoon, I was in my father’s library.”
Abby waited.
“I heard my mother arguing with Celeste in the hallway.”
“About?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Try.”
Julian closed his eyes.
Abby watched him search through a memory he had apparently buried for more than two decades.
“My mother said something about money.”
“What money?”
“I don’t know.”
“Julian.”
“I was seventeen, Abigail.”
“And my mother was fired because of whatever happened next.”
His eyes opened.
The guilt in them surprised her.
“I know.”
He continued.
“Celeste entered the library.”
“Was she wearing the bracelet?”
“No.”
“Did she have it?”
“I saw something glittering in her hand.”
Abby’s pulse jumped.
“What did she do?”
“She opened my father’s desk.”
“And?”
“She put something inside.”
Abby stared.
“You saw your aunt hide your mother’s bracelet.”
“I didn’t know it was the bracelet at the time.”
“What happened next?”
“My father came in.”
“Did you tell him?”
Julian was silent.
Abby’s stomach dropped.
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“Why?”
“I thought Celeste was returning something.”
“Then why hide it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew enough to remember it twenty-two years later.”
Julian stood.
“I was a teenager.”
“My mother was accused of a felony.”
“I did not know that until tonight.”
Abby’s face hardened.
“You lived in the house.”
“The staff did not discuss disciplinary matters with me.”
“No.”
Her laugh was bitter.
“Poor people just disappeared around you.”
Julian took the criticism without answering.
Abby reopened the file.
There were six pages.
The first was a copy of Marianne’s employment application.
The second listed references.
The third contained handwritten notes.
Honest.
Reliable.
Exceptional attention to detail.
The fourth page was different.
TERMINATION FOR CAUSE.
Suspected theft of personal jewelry.
Employee denies allegation.
Police declined by family request.
Confidential settlement executed.
Abby frowned.
“Settlement?”
Julian moved beside her.
She read farther.
Employee compensated $14,000 in exchange for resignation and confidentiality.
Abby stared.
“My mother received fourteen thousand dollars?”
“Apparently.”
“She never told us.”
Julian looked at the date.
“November 19, 2004.”
Abby’s memory stirred.
That year, her mother had suddenly paid off several overdue bills.
She had said an aunt left them money.
There had never been an aunt.
Abby flipped to the fifth page.
It was a typed memorandum from Gideon Cross.
Security matter resolved.
No further action.
M. Mercer must never be rehired by any Cross-affiliated entity.
Abby’s jaw tightened.
“She was blacklisted.”
Julian’s expression darkened.
“Yes.”
The sixth page contained only one handwritten line.
Ask Voss about the library camera.
Julian froze.
Abby saw it.
“Martin Voss.”
“He was not head of security then.”
“But he worked for your family.”
“As a junior security investigator.”
Abby stared at him.
“He investigated my mother.”
“Yes.”
The connection was becoming impossible to ignore.
Voss had investigated Marianne’s alleged theft.
Years later, Voss had suggested Julian test employees.
Voss had handled cases when employees supposedly failed those tests.
Now money had been planted in Abby’s cart.
And someone was destroying records related to Marianne.
Abby sat down.
“Your security director has been doing this for twenty-two years.”
“We don’t know that.”
“You still defend him?”
“I am distinguishing suspicion from proof.”
“My mother had proof.”
Julian looked at the photograph.
“Maybe.”
“She wrote your name.”
“That does not tell us what she knew.”
Abby picked up Pearl.
“Maybe this does.”
Julian frowned.
“The feather duster?”
“My mother kept it for twenty-two years.”
“So?”
“She threw everything away.”
“What?”
“After she got sick, she got obsessed with clearing things out.”
Abby ran her fingers over the scratched handle.
“Old clothes.”
“Furniture.”
“Letters.”
“She hated clutter.”
“But Pearl stayed.”
Julian watched her examine the brass cap.
Abby twisted it.
Nothing happened.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
“Do you have tools?”
Julian almost laughed.
“In an office?”
“You own a seventy-story building.”
He pressed the intercom.
“Send a maintenance toolkit to my office.”
Abby stared.
“You really do just ask for things.”
“That is generally how employment works.”
Ten minutes later, they had pliers, screwdrivers, a utility blade, and a flashlight.
Abby gripped the brass cap with pliers.
It resisted.
Julian held the handle.
“Careful.”
“It’s mine.”
“You’re twisting the wood.”
“She survived my mother using her to attack a raccoon.”
Julian paused.
“Pearl?”
“It was a complicated summer.”
The cap suddenly loosened.
Abby stopped.
Julian looked at her.
She slowly unscrewed it.
Inside the hollow wooden handle was a rolled strip of plastic.
Abby’s heart began pounding.
She pulled it out.
Wrapped inside was a tiny brass key.
And a folded piece of paper.
The paper was brittle with age.
Abby unfolded it carefully.
The handwriting belonged to Marianne.
Abby,
If you are reading this, then either I finally found the courage to tell you everything or I ran out of time.
Abby stopped.
Her throat closed.
Julian looked away, giving her a small measure of privacy.
She continued.
The Cross family did not fire me because I stole.
They fired me because I saw something I was never supposed to see.
The bracelet was only the excuse.
I kept evidence.
Not because I wanted revenge.
Because one day someone might need the truth.
Do not trust Martin Voss.
And do not assume Gideon Cross was the worst man in that house.
Abby’s eyes moved to Julian.
He stared at the page.
She read the next line.
The person you should fear most smiles in photographs beside sick children.
Julian’s face changed.
Abby immediately thought of the Cross Foundation.
Of charity galas.
Of hospital wings.
Of magazine covers.
“Celeste.”
Julian’s voice was almost inaudible.
Abby finished the note.
The key opens box 314 at Grand Central Station.
Pearl knows the rest.
Love always,
Mom.
Neither spoke.
Then Julian’s phone rang.
He looked at the caller.
Martin Voss.
Julian and Abby exchanged a glance.
Julian answered on speaker.
“Martin.”
“Sir, I need to know where you are.”
Julian’s expression became colder.
“Why?”
“We received a security alert involving Abigail Mercer.”
Abby stiffened.
“What kind?”
Voss paused.
“A call was placed to the police claiming she has threatened you.”
Abby’s eyes widened.
Julian stood.
“Who made the call?”
“We are tracing it.”
Another pause.
“You should separate yourself from her immediately.”
Julian looked directly at Abby.
“Why?”
“Because we have also received information that Ms. Mercer intends to extort the Cross family using fabricated accusations involving her mother.”
Abby’s mouth fell open.
Voss continued.
“I’m sending a team to your location.”
Julian’s face became absolutely still.
“No.”
“Sir?”
“Do not send anyone.”
“I strongly advise—”
“I said no.”
Julian ended the call.
Abby grabbed the key.
“He knows.”
“Yes.”
“About the file?”
“Maybe.”
“About Pearl?”
Julian’s gaze moved toward the office door.
“We need to leave.”
They took the private service elevator to the parking garage.
Halfway down, the elevator stopped.
Abby looked at Julian.
“Did you do that?”
“No.”
The lights flickered.
Then the emergency system came on.
Julian pressed the control panel.
Nothing.
His phone showed no signal.
Abby’s heartbeat accelerated.
“Coincidence?”
Julian looked at the ceiling camera.
The small red light went dark.
“No.”
A metallic sound came from above them.
Abby stepped backward.
“What was that?”
Julian looked toward the ceiling hatch.
“Someone is opening the maintenance access.”
Abby tightened her grip around Pearl.
The hatch moved.
A shadow appeared above them.
Julian pulled Abby behind him.
The panel opened.
And a man in a Cross Security uniform lowered himself into the elevator.
Abby stared at the weapon clipped to his belt.
The man looked at Julian.
“Mr. Cross.”
Julian’s voice was cold.
“Who sent you?”
The guard smiled.
“Mr. Voss would like the key.”
Abby’s fingers closed around the tiny brass object.
Julian looked over his shoulder at her.
For twenty-two years, Marianne Mercer had protected a secret.
May you like
Now somebody was willing to trap a billionaire in his own elevator to keep it buried.
---
