Chapter 5: The Hidden Recording
Marcus caught Vanessa before her fingers reached the recorder.
She struggled.
“Let me go!””
“What is on this?””
“Nothing!””
“You just tried to take it.””
“Because you don't understand!””
Marcus held her wrists.
“Then make me understand.””
Vanessa’s breathing came fast and shallow.
Evelyn stepped closer.
“Play the file.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“Please.””
Diane looked at her.
“Who is speaking in that recording?””
Vanessa’s eyes filled with tears.
“I don't know.””
“You do.””
“No.””
Diane's voice hardened.
“You wore my stolen shoes into my home. You entered my husband's study. You knew about Evelyn.
You knew about Claire. And now you're telling me you don't know what's on that recorder?””
Vanessa stopped struggling.
“I was scared.””
“Of what?””
“Claire.””
Marcus released her.
“Start talking.””
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
“Three months ago, Claire contacted me.””
“Why?””
“She said she knew Marcus was going to inherit everything.””
Marcus frowned.
“I hadn't inherited anything.””
“She didn't care.””
Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
“She said your father left assets outside the family company. Accounts. Properties. Things nobody knew about.””
Diane looked at Evelyn.
Evelyn nodded slowly.
“That part is true.””
Marcus stared.
“You knew?””
“Your father kept some investments private.””
“How private?””
“Private enough that your mother didn't know about all of them.””
Diane turned sharply.
“Evelyn.””
“I was trying to protect you.””
“You should have told me.””
“I couldn't.””
Marcus stepped between them.
“Enough.””
He held up the recorder.
“This is what matters.””
He pressed play.
Static.
Then his father's voice.
“If you're hearing this, don't trust—”
A burst of distortion.
The recording jumped.
Another voice appeared.
A woman's voice.
Young.
Terrified.
“Please, I didn't know he would—”
Marcus stopped breathing.
He knew that voice.
Vanessa.
He looked at her.
“That's you.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.””
“That is your voice.””
“I know.””
“Then why did you say you weren't in the recording?””
“Because I don't remember making it.””
Marcus replayed the section.
Vanessa's recorded voice came again.
“Please, I didn't know he would—”
Then another voice.
A man's voice.
Deep.
Angry.
“You were supposed to bring the book.””
The recording ended.
Nobody moved.
Marcus stared at Vanessa.
“Who was that man?””
“I don't know.””
“You were talking to him.””
“I don't remember.””
Evelyn walked to the desk.
“Your father was documenting the theft.””
Diane whispered, “And Vanessa was involved.””
Vanessa turned.
“No.””
“You just heard yourself.””
“I was manipulated.””
Marcus looked at her.
“By Claire?””
Vanessa nodded.
“She told me the shoes were mine.””
“Why would she tell you that?””
“She said my mother bought them years ago.””
Diane's eyes narrowed.
“Your mother?””
Vanessa nodded.
“My mother worked for your family.””
Evelyn suddenly looked alarmed.
“What was her name?””
Vanessa swallowed.
“Patricia Bell.””
Evelyn's face changed.
“Claire's mother?””
“Yes.””
Diane took a step backward.
“No.””
Marcus looked at her.
“What?””
Diane's eyes were fixed on Vanessa.
“Patricia was the woman your father accused of stealing my designs.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“She didn't steal anything.””
“Your father fired her.””
“Because she knew the truth.””
“What truth?””
Vanessa looked at Marcus.
“Your father wasn't the victim.””
The room went silent.
Marcus stared at her.
“What did you just say?””
Vanessa's voice trembled.
“My mother found out your father had sold your mother's designs.””
Diane's face went white.
“That’s impossible.””
“He sold them to another company.””
“No.””
“He planned to blame Patricia.””
Diane shook her head.
“Your mother is lying.””
Vanessa's eyes hardened.
“She died believing you hated her.””
Diane's lips parted.
Marcus looked at Evelyn.
“Did my father sell my mother's designs?””
Evelyn didn't answer.
“Evelyn.””
The older woman looked at him.
“Some of them.””
Diane closed her eyes.
Marcus felt as if the floor had shifted beneath him.
“My father stole from Mom?””
Evelyn whispered,
“He believed the company was failing.””
“That doesn't answer me.””
“No.””
She looked down.
“He did.””
Marcus turned toward the recorder.
“Then what's on the rest of this?””
Evelyn reached for his hand.
“Don't play it here.””
“Why?””
“Because if the recording says what I think it says, everyone outside this room is about to become a witness.””
Marcus looked toward the glass doors.
Through them, he could see the guests standing around the pool.
Watching.
Waiting.
Vanessa suddenly whispered,
“There's one more thing.””
Marcus turned.
“What?””
“The shoes weren't stolen from your father's study.””
“Then where?””
Vanessa looked at Diane.
“They were given to me.””
“By Claire?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“By your father.””
Diane stared at her.
“My husband died eight years ago.””
“I know.””
“Then how could he give you the shoes?””
Vanessa looked toward the hallway.
“I met him six weeks before he died.””
May you like
Marcus went completely still.
Then the lights in the mansion suddenly went out.
