Chapter 3: Twelve Pairs
Marcus read the messages twice.
Then a third time.
Behind him, Diane entered the living room.
“Marcus?””
He turned the phone toward her.
She read the screen.
Her face went pale.
“You received this just now?””
“Yes.””
“From whom?””
“Unknown number.””
Diane reached for the phone.
Marcus handed it over.
She stared at the words.
Her thumb hovered above the screen.
“Mom?””
She didn't answer.
“What's going on?””
Diane finally looked up.
“I don't know.””
Marcus gave a humorless laugh.
“You just told me you designed a twelve-pair collection, eleven were destroyed, and the last one disappeared.””
“Yes.””
“And now someone knows about it.””
“Yes.””
“And Vanessa is wearing the missing pair.””
Diane looked toward the patio.
“Yes.””
Marcus lowered his voice.
“How much aren't you telling me?””
Diane's eyes hardened.
“Nothing.””
“Mom.””
“Nothing that I know.””
He stared at her.
She looked away.
Marcus knew that expression.
It was the same expression she'd worn when he was a child and asked why his father had left.
The expression that meant there was a truth sitting behind another truth.
He stepped closer.
“You're doing it again.””
Diane looked at him.
“Doing what?””
“Protecting me with silence.””
Her lips trembled.
“I was protecting you.””
“From what?””
She didn't answer.
Marcus waited.
Outside, the party had gone strangely quiet.
Through the glass, he could see Vanessa sitting alone beside the pool.
Her red dress stood out against the pale patio.
One bare foot rested beneath her chair.
The stained shoe sat on the ground beside her.
Diane whispered, “Your father was there.””
Marcus froze.
“What?””
“When the shoes disappeared.””
Marcus stared at her.
“My father?””
Diane nodded.
“He knew about the collection.””
“Why?””
“Because he was my business partner.””
Marcus shook his head.
“You told me he had nothing to do with your company.””
“I told you what I needed you to believe.””
The words hung between them.
Marcus stepped backward.
“That isn't an answer.””
“No.””
Diane looked toward the pool.
“But it's the truth.””
Marcus rubbed a hand over his face.
“Mom, where is Dad?””
Diane's silence answered before she did.
“I don't know.””
“You haven't spoken to him?””
“Not in years.””
“Then why would his name matter?””
Diane looked at him.
“Because he was the last person who saw the twelfth pair.””
Marcus's stomach tightened.
“When?””
“The night before it disappeared.””
“Eight years ago?””
“Yes.””
“And you never told me?””
“I thought it was safer.””
“Safer?””
Diane's voice cracked.
“Marcus, listen to me.””
She stepped closer.
“Your father wasn't just stealing from me.””
Marcus stared.
“What do you mean?””
“He was selling information.””
“To whom?””
“I never found out.””
“Then how do you know?””
“Because I found the payments.””
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“Payments for what?””
“Designs. Customer lists. Private contracts.””
He stared at her.
“And the shoes?””
Diane looked toward the patio.
“I think the shoe was part of the payment.””
A sudden noise came from outside.
Glass breaking.
Marcus spun around.
Vanessa was standing.
A champagne flute had shattered near her chair.
One of the guests was backing away.
Marcus rushed outside.
“Vanessa!””
She looked at him, terrified.
“I didn't do it.””
Marcus stopped.
“What happened?””
Raymond pointed toward the pool.
“She dropped the glass.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.””
Diane came through the doors.
“What is it?””
Vanessa's eyes were fixed on the water.
“Someone was here.””
Marcus looked around.
The patio was full of people.
“No one left.””
“I saw someone.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
Marcus walked toward the pool.
A breeze moved through the palm trees.
Nothing.
Then he noticed something floating near the shallow end.
A small black envelope.
“Mom.””
Diane came closer.
Marcus reached into the water and pulled it out.
The envelope was soaked.
There was no name on it.
Only a gold emblem.
The same emblem stamped beneath Vanessa's shoe.
Vanessa whispered, “No.””
Marcus looked at her.
“You recognize it.””
She shook her head.
“Vanessa.””
“I've seen it before.””
“Where?””
She backed away.
“I can't.””
Diane took the envelope from Marcus.
Her fingers trembled.
“This is the original mark.””
Marcus frowned.
“You're sure?””
“Yes.””
She turned the envelope over.
A thin line of black ink was visible beneath the water.
She opened it carefully.
Inside was a photograph.
Old.
Faded.
Diane pulled it out.
The picture showed a younger Diane standing inside a workshop.
Beside her stood Marcus's father.
On the table between them sat a velvet case.
And inside that case were twelve identical pairs of shoes.
Marcus stared at the photograph.
“You kept this?””
Diane shook her head.
“No.””
“Then who took it?””
“I don't know.””
Vanessa suddenly whispered, “I do.””
Everyone turned toward her.
Marcus's voice became very quiet.
“Who?””
Vanessa looked at Diane.
Then at the photograph.
Then at Marcus.
“The man who gave me the shoes.””
Marcus stepped toward her.
“Who gave them to you?””
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
“He said if I wore them here, your mother would recognize them.””
Diane's face went completely still.
Marcus looked at Vanessa.
“You were sent here?””
“No.””
“Don't lie.””
“I wasn't!””
“Then why did you wear those shoes?””
Vanessa covered her face.
“I thought it was a test.””
“What test?””
She lowered her hands.
“To see whether she would tell you the truth.””
Marcus stared.
“Who told you to do that?””
Vanessa hesitated.
Diane stepped forward.
“Say his name.””
Vanessa looked at her.
“I don't know his real name.””
“Then what did he call himself?””
Vanessa swallowed.
“He said you would remember.””
Diane's eyes narrowed.
“What did he call himself?””
Vanessa's voice dropped to almost nothing.
“Daniel.””
Marcus went rigid.
That was his father's name.
Diane's hand flew to her mouth.
“No.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“He told me not to worry. He said Marcus would never find out.””
Marcus stared at her.
“Find out what?””
Vanessa couldn't speak.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Vanessa.””
She looked at him through tears.
“Your father isn't missing.””
Diane's face crumpled.
Marcus stopped breathing.
Vanessa whispered, “He's been watching your mother for eight years.””
Diane looked down at the photograph.
Something on the back caught her eye.
She turned it over.
There was a handwritten sentence.
Her own handwriting.
Dated eight years earlier.
*If Daniel ever comes back, never let Marcus see the twelfth pair.*
Diane's fingers began to shake.
Marcus read the sentence over her shoulder.
Then he looked at his mother.
“Mom…”
She slowly raised her eyes.
Behind Marcus, the glass doors clicked.
Everyone turned.
The doors were opening.
And a man's voice came from inside the mansion.
“It's too late, Diane.””
May you like
Diane went white.
Because she knew that voice.
