Chapter 6 - Adrian’s Missing Hour
Adrian insisted he had not given anyone his car.
The keys had been in his coat pocket.
At least he believed they had.
Raymond checked the estate garage records.
Adrian’s black Range Rover had left the south gate at 5:14 p.m.
Adrian had already been at the hospital.
The vehicle returned at 6:02.
No driver was visible through the heavily tinted windshield.
Someone had used his car to help Malcolm Voss escape.
And someone had returned it before police knew it was missing.
Detective Brooks ordered the vehicle seized.
Adrian did not object.
Celeste did.
From an interview room at the police station, through her lawyer, she claimed the growing investigation proved the Vale household was dangerous and chaotic.
She denied attempting to kill Evelyn.
She denied conspiring with Marcus.
She denied knowing anything about Larkspur.
She denied having any relationship with Malcolm Voss beyond family medical matters.
And she claimed the statement in the courtyard had been taken out of context.
Naomi listened as Brooks summarized it.
“Of course.”
Brooks drank coffee from a paper cup.
“Her attorney is good.”
“How good?”
“Four thousand dollars an hour good.”
“Who’s paying him?”
Brooks looked at her.
“That is an excellent question.”
Celeste’s personal accounts had less than ninety thousand dollars.
The retainer for her defense firm was estimated at half a million.
Someone else had paid.
Brooks already had a subpoena moving.
Marcus had hired separate counsel.
He denied helping Voss escape.
He denied setting the blue room fire.
But security footage proved he had entered the west wing seventeen minutes before the fire.
Marcus claimed he went searching for Adrian.
Nobody believed him.
Still, evidence was not yet enough for an attempted murder charge.
Arson was being investigated.
Financial conspiracy was being built.
The pillow attack remained Naomi’s word against Celeste’s.
Evelyn had not yet been able to make a statement.
That changed at 8:46 that evening.
Adrian called Naomi.
“She’s awake.”
Naomi stood immediately.
“Talking?”
“A little.”
“What did she say?”
A pause.
“Your name.”
Naomi closed her eyes.
“Can I see her?”
“I already asked.”
The hospital approved a five-minute visit.
Brooks came with her.
Evelyn looked smaller in the ICU bed.
Machines surrounded her.
A bruise darkened her cheek where the oxygen mask had pressed.
Adrian sat beside her.
His eyes were red.
Naomi approached slowly.
“Mrs. Vale.”
Evelyn opened her eyes.
Recognition came instantly.
Her fingers moved.
Naomi took her hand.
“I found the blue ledger.”
Evelyn closed her eyes in relief.
Adrian leaned closer.
“Mom.”
She looked at him.
“You need to tell Detective Brooks what happened.”
Evelyn’s lips parted.
Her voice was barely audible.
“Celeste.”
Brooks moved closer.
“Mrs. Vale, did Celeste Arden hurt you?”
Evelyn’s eyes hardened.
“Yes.”
Adrian’s face collapsed.
Brooks remained professional.
“What did she do?”
Evelyn swallowed.
“Pillow.”
Naomi felt Adrian’s hand tighten against the bedrail.
Brooks asked gently.
“Did she place a pillow over your face?”
“Yes.”
“Did you want her to?”
Evelyn almost looked offended.
“No.”
Brooks continued.
“Did anyone else help her?”
Evelyn’s eyes moved toward Adrian.
Then Naomi.
Then the door.
Fear returned.
Naomi squeezed her hand.
“You’re safe.”
Evelyn whispered.
“No.”
Adrian leaned closer.
“What?”
“No.”
Her breathing quickened.
A nurse looked toward the monitor.
Naomi soothed her.
“Don’t force it.”
Evelyn shook her head.
She lifted one trembling hand.
Pointed toward Adrian.
His face went pale.
“Me?”
Evelyn shook her head.
Then pointed toward his jacket.
Adrian looked confused.
“My jacket?”
She nodded.
“Pocket.”
He reached inside.
Pulled out his phone.
His wallet.
Keys.
A folded hospital visitor badge.
Evelyn shook her head.
Then pointed again.
Adrian reached into the inner breast pocket.
His fingers touched something.
He froze.
Naomi saw it.
A tiny black device.
Smaller than a coin.
Brooks moved immediately.
“Don’t touch it more than you already have.”
Adrian stared.
“What is that?”
Raymond, standing at the doorway, recognized it.
“Tracker.”
The room went silent.
Adrian looked at Evelyn.
“How did you know?”
She whispered.
“Celeste.”
Naomi leaned closer.
“You saw her put it there?”
Evelyn nodded.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
Celeste had tracked his movements.
Which explained how Voss knew when Adrian left the estate.
And perhaps how someone stole his vehicle.
Brooks bagged the tracker.
Evelyn looked at Naomi.
“Wedding.”
Naomi nodded.
“What about it?”
Evelyn whispered.
“Friday.”
Adrian frowned.
“The wedding is Saturday.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“Friday.”
Brooks leaned in.
“What happens Friday?”
Evelyn’s eyes filled with urgency.
“Trust.”
Her voice cracked.
Naomi remembered the Marital Accession Schedule.
“What happens to the trust Friday?”
Evelyn struggled.
Adrian moved closer.
“Mom, don’t.”
She ignored him.
“Deadline.”
“What deadline?”
“File.”
“File what?”
Evelyn’s eyelids fluttered.
Naomi knew they were losing her attention.
“Protective schedule?”
Evelyn’s eyes snapped open.
“Yes.”
Adrian stared.
“What protective schedule?”
Evelyn squeezed Naomi’s fingers.
“Stops spouse.”
“Stops Celeste from accessing the trust?”
“Yes.”
“When must it be filed?”
Evelyn whispered.
“Before…”
Her voice disappeared.
Naomi leaned closer.
“Before the wedding?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.”
Before what?
Brooks asked.
“Mrs. Vale, before what?”
Evelyn’s mouth moved.
A faint sound escaped.
“Death.”
Naomi went cold.
Evelyn had created a document that would block Adrian’s spouse from certain trust rights.
But it only worked if filed before Evelyn died.
Celeste needed Evelyn dead before the protective schedule was filed.
That was why the murder attempt happened now.
The wedding was only days away.
Adrian stood.
“Where is the document?”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Lawyer.”
“What lawyer?”
She whispered a name.
“Samuel Reed.”
Adrian looked at Naomi.
“I don’t know him.”
Evelyn’s breathing slowed.
Naomi remembered.
A gray-haired man had visited Evelyn two weeks earlier.
Not through the front entrance.
Through the garden gate.
Evelyn had asked Naomi to bring tea to the conservatory and leave them alone.
“Reed was here.”
Adrian stared.
“Who is he?”
Brooks was already searching on her phone.
Then she looked up.
“Trust attorney.”
“Where?”
“Stamford.”
Adrian reached for his coat.
Brooks stopped him.
“It’s nine at night.”
“I don’t care.”
Brooks called.
No answer.
She called again.
Nothing.
Raymond tried the office.
Voicemail.
Naomi looked at Evelyn.
“Where is the protective schedule?”
Evelyn’s eyes remained closed.
Then she whispered.
“Samuel has original.”
Brooks nodded.
“Good.”
Evelyn’s eyes opened again.
“No.”
Naomi felt dread.
“What?”
“Had.”
The word barely carried.
“What do you mean had?”
Evelyn looked terrified.
“Marcus.”
Adrian leaned closer.
“What did Marcus do?”
Evelyn tried to answer.
The heart monitor accelerated.
The nurse stepped in.
“That’s enough.”
Brooks nodded.
They moved back.
Evelyn lifted her hand desperately.
Naomi returned.
“What?”
Evelyn whispered two words.
“Find Samuel.”
Naomi nodded.
“We will.”
Evelyn’s fingers tightened.
Then came the third word.
“First.”
Naomi stared.
First.
Before Celeste.
Before Marcus.
Before whoever else was involved.
They left the ICU.
Brooks called Stamford police and requested a welfare check on Samuel Reed.
Twenty-three minutes later, she received the answer.
Samuel Reed was not at home.
His front door was unlocked.
His car was gone.
His office had been searched.
And the safe where he kept original trust instruments stood open.
The Protective Marital Schedule was missing.
But there was something else.
Security footage from Reed’s parking garage showed him leaving at 4:12 that afternoon.
He was not alone.
A woman sat in the passenger seat.
Brooks showed Naomi the blurred still.
The woman wore sunglasses and a scarf.
Adrian stared at the screen.
“I can’t see her face.”
Naomi could.
Not her face.
Her hand.
Resting against the window.
Twelve-carat diamond.
Celeste’s ring.
Celeste Arden had been in police custody since before 4:00.
The woman in Samuel Reed’s car at 4:12 could not have been Celeste.
Unless Celeste had never been working alone.
Naomi enlarged the image.
The woman’s profile became slightly clearer.
Same blond hair.
Same build.
Almost the same face.
Adrian whispered.
“No.”
Naomi looked at him.
“What?”
He stared at the photograph.
“Celeste has a sister.”
Brooks turned.
“You said she was an only child.”
“That’s what she told me.”
“No.”
Adrian shook his head.
“I saw a photograph once.”
“Where?”
“In her apartment.”
He looked sick.
“She said it was her cousin.”
Naomi stared at the image.
“What was her name?”
Adrian answered.
“Camille.”
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And suddenly Celeste’s impossible movements were no longer impossible at all.
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