Chapter 7 - The Billionaire’s Most Trusted Man
Julian did not confront Leonard over the phone.
He ended the conversation casually.
Then he stood beside Samuel’s projector in complete silence.
Abby watched his face.
“You trusted him.”
Julian nodded.
“How much?”
“He handled my father’s estate.”
“That much.”
“He helped me take Cross Holdings public.”
“That much.”
“He knows every account.”
“Almost.”
“Every weakness?”
Julian looked at her.
“Probably.”
Abby hated the answer.
Julian’s phone buzzed with an incoming message from Leonard.
Dinner tonight?
Need to discuss the board.
Julian showed Abby.
“He wants to see you.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t go.”
“I have to.”
“That is how people die in movies.”
“This is not a movie.”
“Tell that to the fake theft, hidden microfilm, sabotaged elevator, missing journalist, and twenty-two-year-old murder photo.”
Samuel pretended not to listen.
Julian almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Abby said.
“If you meet him, I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Then you aren’t going.”
Julian raised an eyebrow.
“You believe you can stop me?”
“No.”
She held up Pearl.
“But apparently I can hit your security staff.”
Samuel coughed.
Julian surrendered.
They returned to Manhattan separately.
Julian needed Leonard to believe Abby remained suspended and under suspicion.
Abby hated the plan.
She hated deception.
But after what had happened to Marianne, honesty without caution felt suicidal.
That evening, Leonard chose a private club overlooking Central Park.
Julian arrived alone.
At least Leonard thought he did.
Abby waited in a service corridor three floors below wearing a catering jacket borrowed from a cooperative manager.
Julian carried a small recording device.
For once, he was the one being tested.
Leonard Vale was sixty-one.
Silver-haired.
Warm smile.
Soft voice.
The kind of man who remembered birthdays and sent handwritten condolences.
He rose when Julian entered.
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
Leonard laughed.
“I assume this is about the housekeeper situation.”
Julian sat.
“What have you heard?”
“Voss says a woman stole from the penthouse.”
“Voss says many things.”
Leonard studied him.
Julian noticed.
It was the smallest reaction.
But it existed.
Leonard poured wine.
“I’ve been telling you for years that Martin has become too rigid.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
Interesting.
Leonard was distancing himself already.
“What do you remember about Marianne Mercer?”
Leonard sighed.
“Your father’s old scandal.”
“What scandal?”
“A housekeeper accused of stealing Helena’s jewelry.”
“How do you remember that?”
“I handled insurance work for your father.”
Julian took the wine but did not drink.
“Were you involved in her termination?”
“Not directly.”
“Did you know she was innocent?”
Leonard’s smile disappeared.
“That is a loaded question.”
“Answer it.”
“I knew Gideon had doubts.”
“Did Voss?”
Leonard leaned back.
“You should ask Martin.”
“I am asking you.”
A waiter entered.
Julian paused.
Downstairs, Abby listened through an earpiece.
The waiter left.
Leonard lowered his voice.
“Your father made many unpleasant compromises.”
“Such as?”
“Paying Mercer to disappear.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“To protect your mother.”
“From what?”
Leonard looked genuinely surprised.
“You don’t know?”
Julian said nothing.
Leonard smiled faintly.
“Interesting.”
Downstairs, Abby gripped the counter.
Leonard continued.
“Helena was the one who originally asked Marianne to take the blame.”
Julian stared at him.
“That is not in the file.”
“Of course not.”
“Why would my mother do that?”
“Ask her.”
“My mother has refused to discuss 2004 for twenty-two years.”
“Perhaps she had reasons.”
Julian leaned forward.
“Did Celeste steal from the medical fund?”
Leonard’s eyes changed.
There.
The first real crack.
“I have no idea.”
“That is a lie.”
Leonard’s expression became cold.
“You should be careful.”
“Is that advice?”
“Yes.”
“Or a warning?”
Leonard smiled again.
“I have known you since you were a boy.”
“Then answer.”
Leonard placed his napkin on the table.
“There are truths that destroy more than the guilty.”
Julian’s voice dropped.
“My father said something similar.”
“He was right.”
“And Elena Torres?”
Leonard stopped.
Downstairs, Abby held her breath.
Julian continued.
“Did her death protect the Cross family?”
Leonard’s face became unreadable.
“Where did you hear that name?”
Julian said nothing.
Leonard’s gaze sharpened.
“Julian.”
“Did Martin Voss kill her?”
Leonard stood.
The dinner was over.
But before leaving, he leaned down.
“You have spent your entire adult life believing your father was paranoid.”
His voice was almost gentle.
“He wasn’t.”
Julian looked up.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying there was a reason Gideon trusted almost nobody.”
Leonard straightened.
“And if Abigail Mercer has found what her mother hid, you should hope Voss reaches her before Celeste does.”
Then Leonard walked out.
Abby met Julian in the underground parking garage.
“What did he mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“He said Celeste is worse than Voss.”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I believe Leonard wanted me afraid of someone other than Leonard.”
“Fair.”
They entered Julian’s car.
Before the driver could pull away, Abby’s phone rang.
Patricia Lowe.
Her former supervisor.
Abby almost ignored it.
Then she answered.
“Patricia?”
The woman was crying.
“Abby, I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
Abby straightened.
“For what?”
“The money.”
Julian looked at her.
Patricia continued.
“I knew.”
Abby’s voice went cold.
“Knew what?”
“That money had been placed in your cart.”
The world seemed to stop.
Julian took the phone and activated speaker.
Patricia sobbed.
“Martin called me before your shift.”
Abby could barely speak.
“He told you to frame me?”
“No.”
“He said there was going to be an integrity investigation.”
“He said I was supposed to leave your cart in the west supply room.”
“I thought it was part of the test.”
“Who put the money there?”
“I didn’t see.”
“You knew they were using my cart.”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I thought you had failed the bedroom test.”
Abby closed her eyes.
There it was again.
Someone had decided that because she was poor, temptation itself made her guilty.
Patricia said.
“After you left, Martin told me to terminate you.”
“You didn’t.”
“He offered me twenty-five thousand dollars to report that you had previously stolen from clients.”
Julian’s face hardened.
Abby whispered.
“What did you say?”
“I said no.”
A car horn sounded in the background.
Then Patricia’s voice changed.
“Someone is following me.”
Abby sat upright.
“Where are you?”
“Queensboro Bridge.”
“Drive to a police station.”
“I’m trying.”
A loud impact exploded through the phone.
Patricia screamed.
Abby’s blood froze.
“Patricia!”
Metal scraped.
Another impact.
The call filled with horns.
Then Patricia shouted.
“They hit me again!”
Julian was already calling emergency services from another phone.
“Patricia, keep driving!”
Abby heard tires screech.
Then silence.
“Patricia?”
No answer.
“Patricia!”
A man’s voice came faintly through the line.
Not Patricia.
“Ms. Mercer.”
Abby stopped breathing.
Julian heard it too.
The voice continued.
“You should have taken the money.”
The call ended.
Abby stared at the phone.
Julian’s expression turned deadly.
Within minutes, police found Patricia’s car crashed against a barrier near the bridge approach.
The driver’s door was open.
Patricia was gone.
There was blood on the airbag.
But no body.
No witness had clearly seen who removed her.
Abby stood beside Julian in his penthouse at two in the morning.
Neither had spoken for several minutes.
Then Abby looked toward the dresser.
The three hundred thousand dollars was gone.
Julian had secured it after the test.
But Abby could still see it there.
Every bundle.
Every impossible temptation.
“You know what he said.”
Julian nodded.
“You should have taken the money.”
Abby wrapped her arms around herself.
“This was never about catching me stealing.”
“No.”
“It was about making everyone believe I was a thief before I found out what happened to my mother.”
Julian looked at her.
“Yes.”
Abby stared out across Manhattan.
“And Patricia knew enough to clear me.”
“Yes.”
“Now she’s missing.”
Julian moved closer.
“Abigail.”
She turned.
“If she dies because of me—”
“No.”
“Don’t.”
Her eyes filled with anger.
“Do not tell me this isn’t my fault.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
She waited.
Julian’s voice became quieter.
“I was going to tell you it is mine.”
Abby stared at him.
“I built the system Voss used.”
“I gave him authority.”
“I assumed accusations were proof because believing him was easier than questioning myself.”
He looked toward the empty dresser.
“I thought I was testing everyone else.”
Abby swallowed.
Julian continued.
“All I really did was give a dishonest man a machine for destroying honest people.”
For the first time, Abby saw something in Julian that was not arrogance.
Shame.
Real shame.
Then his private elevator chimed.
Both turned.
Nobody had been authorized upstairs.
Julian reached for his phone.
The elevator doors opened.
An elderly woman stepped out.
Elegant.
White-haired.
Supported by a silver cane.
Julian froze.
“Mother.”
Helena Cross looked directly at Abby.
Then at Pearl in her hand.
Her face turned ghostly white.
“Marianne’s daughter.”
Abby stared.
Helena Cross had spent twenty-two years refusing to speak about 2004.
Now she had arrived uninvited in the middle of the night.
She pointed at the feather duster.
“Where did you get that?”
“It belonged to my mother.”
Helena’s hand trembled.
“No.”
Abby frowned.
Helena whispered.
“That belonged to Elena Torres.”
May you like
And suddenly even Marianne’s most treasured possession was no longer what Abby thought it was.
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