Chapter 47 - The Price of Speaking Out
Victoria's daughter was named Lily Crane.
She was twenty-four, a graduate student in architecture, and had deliberately stayed away from her parents' public conflicts.
When Victoria showed me the threatening photograph, I understood immediately why she was frightened.
Someone had been watching Lily's apartment.
Someone wanted Victoria to stop talking.
We contacted the appropriate authorities and coordinated practical security precautions without turning Lily's life into a prison.
Lily was furious when she learned what had happened.
"I refuse to disappear because Dad doesn't like being challenged," she told Victoria over the phone.
Victoria closed her eyes.
"Sweetheart, please."
"Mom, I love you. But I've spent my whole life watching him make people afraid."
I stood nearby, listening.
Lily continued.
"If he wants to talk to me, he can call me himself. He doesn't get to send creepy photographs."
Victoria's voice broke.
"I just want you safe."
"I know."
Then Lily added something that caught my attention.
"Maybe you should tell Claire about the old house."
Victoria froze.
"What old house?" I asked.
Lily hesitated.
"The one Dad used to visit near Lake Geneva."
Victoria slowly lowered her phone.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she looked at me.
"Sebastian had a private residence in Wisconsin."
I waited.
"He used it for business meetings. Richard sometimes attended."
"How often?"
"Several times a year."
Lily spoke again.
"I remember seeing Dad there with a man who looked like Grayson."
My heart stopped.
"Andrew?"
"Maybe. I was young."
Victoria shook her head.
"Sebastian told me Andrew had never visited that house."
Lily sounded uncomfortable.
"Then he lied."
I looked at Victoria.
"Could Andrew have met Sebastian there?"
She nodded slowly.
"It's possible."
That afternoon, Evelyn reviewed property records and available evidence regarding the residence.
The house had been sold through a holding company shortly after Andrew's death.
The buyer was an investment entity whose beneficial ownership required further examination.
But what interested me most was the timing.
The sale had closed eighteen days after the fatal accident.
"Why sell so quickly?" I asked.
Samuel Brooks shrugged.
"Could be unrelated. We need more."
I stared at the screen.
There was a document attached to the property transfer.
A certificate indicating that records stored at the property had been removed before closing.
The company listed as the records custodian was familiar.
Pierce Legal Services.
Malcolm Pierce's firm.
"Evelyn," I said, "look."
She leaned closer.
Her expression changed.
"That's worth investigating."
Meanwhile, Alexandra had been reviewing Andrew's old messages with Natalie.
They discovered a draft email he never sent.
It was addressed to Grayson.
I think I finally understand why our father kept everything secret.
The money wasn't the whole problem.
The real issue was who controlled the records.
Alexandra read the message aloud.
I felt a chill.
"What did he mean?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
Then she opened the next draft.
This one was addressed to Victor Sloane.
I believe Sebastian has been using private financial arrangements to pressure people into surrendering legitimate claims.
Grayson stared at the screen.
"Andrew was following the money."
"Yes," Alexandra whispered.
"And someone wanted him to stop."
That evening, I found Grace sitting on the living room rug, carefully arranging photographs into a homemade family album.
There were pictures of me.
Grayson.
Amelia.
Alexandra.
Oliver.
Even Natalie.
Grace held up a page proudly.
"Look, Mama. Everybody fits."
I smiled.
"That's beautiful, sweetheart."
She pointed to an empty space.
"Who's going here?"
I looked down.
The empty square sat beside a picture of Andrew.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I said, "Maybe we'll put a picture of Grandpa Richard."
Grace frowned.
"Was he nice?"
I considered the question.
I didn't want to lie.
"He made some good choices and some hurtful ones."
Grace looked thoughtful.
"Like when Daddy eats my cookies?"
I laughed through sudden tears.
"Something like that, sweetheart."
She nodded.
"Then he should say sorry."
I kissed her forehead.
If only life were that simple.
That night, an investigator called Evelyn.
A previously unidentified witness had come forward regarding Andrew's accident.
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The witness remembered a dark SUV following Andrew's car shortly before it left the road.
And the vehicle's registration, investigators believed, might lead to a company connected to Sebastian Vale.
