Chapter 8 - Everett Whitmore Was Still Watching
The meeting ended with every major trust transfer suspended.
Celeste called it theft.
Graham called it fiduciary preservation.
I called it the first quiet moment I had experienced in twelve hours.
Then my phone rang.
The caller ID displayed a name I had not seen in nearly two years.
EVERETT WHITMORE.
Declan’s grandfather was ninety-one.
He had suffered a stroke the previous spring and lived privately at the family estate in Connecticut.
I answered.
“Hello?”
His voice was weak but clear.
“So.”
He paused to breathe.
“They finally showed you their teeth.”
I sat down slowly.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“Why did you make me Trust Protector?”
“Because your father saved my company.”
“That doesn’t explain it.”
“No.”
His voice became quieter.
“I chose you because you were the one Hale who never wanted anything from the Whitmores.”
I looked through the boardroom glass.
Declan was standing alone near the elevators.
Celeste had already left.
“Did Declan know?”
Everett was silent.
“Mr. Whitmore.”
“Come to Connecticut.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“What am I looking for?”
“A blue ledger.”
I waited.
He continued.
“My former accountant kept records before everything became digital.”
“Records of what?”
“Money that disappeared.”
My heart accelerated.
“Why didn’t you investigate?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“I trusted the wrong person.”
“Who?”
A long silence followed.
Then Everett whispered.
“Your mother discovered it before I did.”
I stood.
“My mother?”
“She came to me seven years ago.”
Seven years.
The year she died.
“What did she find?”
“You need the ledger.”
“Where is it?”
“In my old study.”
“Why are you telling me now?”
His breathing became rougher.
“Because Celeste knows you have authority.”
“And?”
“She will look for the ledger too.”
The call ended.
I tried calling back.
No answer.
Declan entered before I could speak.
“Was that my grandfather?”
“Yes.”
His face tightened.
“What did he want?”
I studied him.
I no longer knew which truths I could safely give my husband.
“He wants me to visit.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Sarah.”
“I don’t trust you.”
The words hurt him.
Good.
They were supposed to.
He stepped closer.
“My mother lied to me about the transfers.”
“And you lied to me about the reason our marriage mattered.”
“I know.”
“That does not erase itself because someone betrayed you too.”
He nodded slowly.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His grandfather’s nurse.
Declan answered.
His expression changed immediately.
“What happened?”
He listened.
Then looked at me.
“Grandfather’s study was broken into this morning.”
My blood went cold.
“Was anything taken?”
“They don’t know.”
I grabbed my bag.
Declan reached for his jacket.
“I’m driving.”
“I told you no.”
His eyes met mine.
“My mother has keys to that estate.”
I stopped.
May you like
Then he said something that made the room feel smaller.
“So does Brier.”
