Chapter 8 - Pearl’s Real Owner
Helena Cross sat beside the penthouse fireplace with both hands wrapped around a cup she never drank from.
Abby remained across from her.
Julian stood by the window.
No one trusted anyone enough to relax.
Abby placed Pearl on the table.
“You said this belonged to Elena Torres.”
Helena nodded.
“How do you know?”
“I bought it for her.”
Abby looked at the battered feathers.
“You bought someone a feather duster?”
Helena almost smiled.
“It was a joke.”
She looked toward Julian.
“He was seventeen.”
Julian frowned.
“What does that have to do with it?”
“You had broken your ankle and complained constantly about dust in the library.”
Julian stared.
A memory returned.
“Elena chased me with it.”
“Yes.”
Helena’s smile vanished.
“She called it Pearl because the feathers were white.”
Abby looked down.
“My mother always said she named it.”
“She may have told you that to protect you.”
Abby’s throat tightened.
“Why did she have it?”
Helena stared into the fire.
“Elena gave it to Marianne the night before she died.”
Julian stepped closer.
“Why?”
“Because she knew someone had searched her apartment.”
Abby remembered the hollow handle.
The hidden key.
The microfilm.
“Elena was hiding evidence too.”
“Yes.”
“Did my mother know Voss sabotaged Elena’s car?”
Helena shut her eyes.
“I don’t know.”
Abby’s patience broke.
“You have had twenty-two years to know.”
Julian said quietly.
“Abigail.”
“No.”
She stood.
“My mother died with this secret.”
“Elena Torres died because of this secret.”
“Patricia may have been taken tonight because of this secret.”
She pointed at Helena.
“And she has been sitting in mansions pretending she doesn’t remember.”
Helena opened her eyes.
Tears filled them.
“You think I don’t know that?”
Abby’s anger faltered only slightly.
“Then talk.”
Helena looked toward Julian.
“I never wanted you involved.”
“That ended twenty-two years ago.”
His voice was cold.
“I was involved because all of you built my life on whatever happened.”
Helena looked at her son for a long time.
Then she began.
“In 2004, the Cross Foundation was preparing a major hospital initiative.”
“Your father raised almost sixty million dollars.”
Julian nodded.
“I remember the campaign.”
“Celeste controlled donor relations.”
“Leonard managed external accounting.”
“Martin Voss handled security.”
Abby listened.
“One night, Elena found discrepancies.”
“Donation money had been transferred through shell companies.”
“Some returned.”
“Some did not.”
“How much?” Julian asked.
“Almost nine million dollars.”
Julian stared.
“That would have been discovered in the audit.”
“It was.”
“What?”
Helena looked ashamed.
“Your father altered the audit.”
Julian’s face hardened.
Abby felt sick.
“Why?”
“He thought he could force Celeste to return everything privately.”
“Protect the family name.”
“Yes.”
“Again.”
Helena nodded.
Abby said.
“Cowards always call silence protection.”
Helena accepted the words.
“Elena wanted to go to the police.”
“Marianne agreed.”
“I begged them to wait.”
“Why?”
Helena looked at Julian.
“Because Celeste threatened my son.”
Julian went still.
“What?”
“She told me accidents happen to reckless boys.”
Julian’s face changed.
Abby saw the seventeen-year-old boy behind the billionaire for one second.
Helena continued.
“You had already had the skiing accident.”
“You think Celeste caused it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were seventeen.”
“I am forty now.”
“And I have spent twenty-two years being ashamed.”
The room fell silent.
Abby asked.
“What happened to the bracelet?”
“Celeste took it.”
“To frame my mother?”
“Eventually.”
Helena swallowed.
“At first she used it to frighten me.”
“She said if I spoke, Marianne would be arrested.”
“Voss planted it.”
“Yes.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“And my father?”
“He learned the truth.”
“When?”
“The same day Marianne was fired.”
Julian turned away.
“He let it happen.”
“He paid her.”
“He blacklisted her.”
“He abandoned her.”
Helena’s voice cracked.
“He believed keeping her away from us would keep her alive.”
Abby stared at her.
“Did my mother know that?”
“Yes.”
“Did she agree?”
“No.”
That answer mattered.
Marianne had not willingly vanished.
She had been forced out.
Helena continued.
“Elena refused to leave.”
“Two months later, she died.”
“And you still stayed quiet.”
Helena covered her face.
“Yes.”
Abby wanted to hate her.
Part of her did.
But fear had made victims of many people in different ways.
Not equal ways.
But real ones.
Julian sat across from his mother.
“Did Voss kill Elena?”
“I never had proof.”
“Marianne did.”
Helena looked up.
“What?”
Abby told her about the photograph.
Helena went white.
“She had that?”
“Yes.”
“Then Marianne knew more than I realized.”
Julian asked.
“Why did Voss keep working for our family?”
Helena laughed bitterly.
“Because your father believed keeping enemies close made him safer.”
“That was insane.”
“Yes.”
“And after Father died, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Voss knew things.”
“What things?”
Helena looked toward Abby.
“Not only about Celeste.”
“About me.”
Abby narrowed her eyes.
“What did you do?”
Helena hesitated.
“I helped your mother steal copies of the records.”
Abby blinked.
“That’s it?”
“No.”
Helena looked at Julian.
“I also paid Marianne secretly for years.”
Julian frowned.
Abby stared.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Gideon’s settlement was insulting.”
“I sent money anonymously.”
Abby thought of occasional checks her mother had called insurance refunds.
“Until when?”
“Until 2018.”
Abby’s eyes narrowed.
“That was the year Mom was diagnosed.”
Helena looked stricken.
“I know.”
“You knew she had cancer?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I continued watching from a distance.”
Abby’s anger returned.
“You watched?”
“To make sure she was safe.”
“She was drowning in medical bills.”
“I offered money.”
“She returned it.”
Abby almost laughed.
Of course she did.
That sounded exactly like Marianne.
Helena wiped her eyes.
“She wrote one final letter.”
“To you?”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
Helena hesitated.
Julian stood.
“Mother.”
Helena looked at Abby.
“She said you had found a cleaning job in one of our properties.”
Abby froze.
“When?”
“Two months before she died.”
Abby’s stomach turned.
“My mother knew I might work for Julian.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she stop me?”
“She tried.”
Abby remembered.
Her mother had suddenly become obsessed with Abby finding office work.
Anything except cleaning.
Abby had thought Marianne was embarrassed.
Now she understood.
“She was afraid Voss would recognize my name.”
“Yes.”
“Did he?”
Helena nodded slowly.
“Probably before you ever entered the penthouse.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“The employee screening.”
“Exactly.”
Abby felt cold.
Voss had not randomly selected her after discovering the file.
He had known who she was from the beginning.
The bedroom test had merely given him an opportunity.
Helena said.
“Marianne told me something else in that final letter.”
Abby waited.
“She believed Elena had left behind one last piece of evidence.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“She said Pearl would lead you to it if necessary.”
“We found the microfilm.”
Helena shook her head.
“No.”
“That wasn’t what Marianne meant.”
Abby stared.
“What else is there?”
Helena looked at the duster.
“Elena told us the most important evidence was not financial.”
“What was it?”
“A recording.”
Julian leaned closer.
“Of whom?”
“Celeste.”
“Doing what?”
Helena’s face tightened.
“Ordering Martin Voss to make Elena Torres disappear.”
The room became silent.
Abby’s heartbeat thundered.
“A murder order.”
“Yes.”
“Where is the recording?”
“I don’t know.”
Abby picked up Pearl again.
Her mother’s note echoed in her mind.
Pearl knows the rest.
They had assumed that meant the hidden key and microfilm.
Maybe it meant something else.
Abby examined the feathers again.
Nothing.
The wooden handle.
Nothing.
The brass cap.
Nothing.
Then Julian noticed a small engraving near the base.
“Was that always there?”
Abby squinted.
Tiny letters had been scratched into the wood.
P.S. 11-6.
Julian frowned.
“Postscript?”
Helena looked closer.
Then her face changed.
“No.”
“What?”
“Parkside Storage.”
Abby stared.
Helena explained.
“Elena rented a small storage unit on Parkside Avenue.”
“What does eleven-six mean?”
“Unit eleven.”
“Locker six.”
Julian was already reaching for his coat.
Helena stopped him.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“If Celeste knows Abby found Pearl, she will expect you to follow its trail.”
“Then we move faster.”
“That is exactly what your father used to say.”
Julian froze.
Helena stood.
“And Elena died.”
Abby looked at Julian.
He looked at her.
Then Julian said.
“We are not going tonight.”
Abby opened her mouth.
He raised a hand.
“We do this differently.”
“How?”
“We stop reacting.”
He looked toward the city.
“For twenty-two years, Voss and Celeste have controlled what everyone else believes.”
“They plant evidence.”
“They remove records.”
“They create panic.”
“They make people move where they want.”
Abby slowly nodded.
“So?”
Julian turned.
“We give them something to react to.”
The next morning, Cross Holdings issued an internal notice.
Abigail Mercer had been formally terminated for theft.
The twenty-thousand-dollar loss had been documented.
Security had concluded its investigation.
Martin Voss read the memo at 8:04 a.m.
Leonard Vale received it at 8:06.
Celeste Cross called Julian at 8:09.
“You finally dealt with that girl.”
Julian sat behind his desk.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Mother told me you were concerned.”
A pause.
“Helena worries too much.”
“Apparently.”
Celeste laughed softly.
“You sound tired.”
“I am.”
“Come to dinner Sunday.”
“I might.”
When the call ended, Julian looked toward the hidden service room behind his office.
Abby stepped out.
“She believed you.”
“Yes.”
“You sound disturbingly good at lying.”
“I negotiate acquisitions for a living.”
“Same thing?”
“Frequently.”
His phone buzzed.
A message from security.
Martin Voss had left Cross Tower.
Another message followed.
His destination appeared to be Brooklyn.
Abby looked at Julian.
“Parkside?”
Julian nodded.
They had placed discreet surveillance on Voss overnight.
They had not needed to find locker eleven-six themselves.
Voss was going to lead them directly to it.
Twenty-seven minutes later, the surveillance team called.
Voss had entered Parkside Storage.
He carried bolt cutters.
Julian and Abby were already in a car three blocks away.
They reached the facility in six minutes.
By the time they entered, the corridor containing unit eleven was empty.
Locker six stood open.
Abby ran toward it.
Inside, shelves had been overturned.
Boxes were scattered everywhere.
Voss was gone.
Julian searched.
Nothing.
Abby’s heart sank.
“He beat us.”
Then she noticed something.
Dust covered the concrete floor.
One rectangular space near the rear wall was clean.
Something had recently been removed.
Abby crouched.
A tiny red light blinked beneath the shelf.
She reached underneath.
Julian grabbed her wrist.
“Wait.”
He checked the device.
It was a small digital recorder.
Still running.
Abby stared.
“Voss dropped it?”
“No.”
Julian looked toward a black dome in the ceiling.
“I think someone wanted us to find it.”
He pressed playback.
At first there was silence.
Then Martin Voss’s voice filled the locker.
“Celeste, the box is empty.”
A woman responded through a phone speaker.
“Then Marianne moved it.”
Voss cursed.
“What about the girl?”
Celeste answered.
“Abigail is irrelevant.”
Abby looked at Julian.
Then Celeste added.
“Julian is the real problem.”
Voss asked.
“What do you want me to do?”
There was a pause.
Then Celeste Cross said.
“The same thing you did to Elena.”
Abby stopped breathing.
Julian’s face became stone.
The recording continued.
May you like
“Make it look like an accident.”
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