Chapter 12: The Woman Behind the Fire
By morning, the police had secured the storage facility.
The original archive was placed under temporary protection, and Laura arranged for every document to be photographed and catalogued.
But the missing trunk remained missing.
So did Daniel Reeves.
I sat in a small conference room with a cup of untouched coffee.
Martin stood by the window.
Evelyn was speaking quietly with Vanessa.
Helen sat beside me, holding my mother's letter.
None of us had slept.
Laura entered carrying a thick folder.
"We have a development.""
I stood.
"Did they find Daniel?""
"Not yet. But we located his vehicle outside a private office building.""
"Whose office?""
"Patricia's personal investment company.""
Martin turned.
"That confirms she's involved.""
Laura placed several photographs on the table.
"The police obtained security footage from the building. Daniel entered at 10:42 p.m. He left twenty minutes later carrying a large wooden trunk.""
I stared.
"Can they arrest him?""
"Not on that footage alone. But we have enough to request further warrants.""
Laura opened the folder.
"There's something more important. Rebecca has identified the security company that received the payment before your mother's studio burned.""
She placed a printed record in front of me.
"Northstar Protective Services.""
Martin leaned closer.
"That company closed years ago.""
"Yes. But Rebecca traced its former director.""
"Who?""
Laura looked at me.
"Daniel Reeves.""
My stomach dropped.
"Daniel?""
"He was working as a private security consultant in 1998. The company received a payment from Patricia's personal account three days before the fire.""
Martin shook his head.
"I knew Daniel was involved in the legal disputes. I never knew this.""
Laura continued.
"We haven't established what the payment was for. But it's a significant connection.""
I looked at the receipt.
The same man who had represented Patricia against me had also been connected to the company paid before my mother's studio burned.
"Why would he help her destroy the evidence?""
Martin answered.
"Because he may have been paid to do it.""
The door opened.
Rebecca entered carrying her laptop.
"I have something you need to see.""
She connected it to the screen.
A digitized newspaper article appeared.
*LOCAL FASHION STUDIO DESTROYED IN LATE-NIGHT FIRE. OWNER VOWS TO REBUILD.*
The photograph showed my mother standing outside the burned building.
Her face was covered in soot.
Her hair was disheveled.
But she was holding a small wooden box.
My wooden box.
I looked closer.
"She saved it.""
Rebecca nodded.
"According to the article, firefighters found the box inside her car. She had removed it before the fire spread.""
I remembered the night before my mother died.
She had held the box and told me to keep it safe.
I had never understood why.
Rebecca enlarged the article.
"There's a quote from your mother.""
I read it aloud.
"'They can burn a building, but they cannot burn what I know.''"
My throat tightened.
She had known someone had set the fire.
And she had survived it.
Laura looked at the payment records.
"Rebecca, can you trace the original Northstar company accounts?""
"I'm working on it.""
A moment later, she opened another file.
"I found something.""
The company had received a payment from Patricia.
But the transfer had been approved by a second person.
Richard Hawthorne.
I stared.
"Richard paid them too?""
Martin shook his head.
"That doesn't make sense.""
Rebecca opened the transaction details.
"There's a note attached to the transfer.""
The screen displayed a short message.
Emergency preservation of materials. Do not proceed without confirmation from E.H.
E.H.
Eleanor Hawthorne?
I looked at Evelyn.
She shook her head.
"No. My mother was Margaret. Eleanor Bennett was the designer.""
Martin examined the record.
"Could the initials belong to someone else?""
Rebecca enlarged the signature.
The approval was signed:
*E. HAWTHORNE.*
I looked at Evelyn again.
"Was there another person with those initials?""
Evelyn went pale.
Then she slowly sat down.
"Yes.""
"Who?""
"My sister-in-law.""
"Richard's first wife?""
Evelyn shook her head.
"Richard never had another wife.""
She looked toward Vanessa.
"Your grandmother had a daughter before she married my father.""
Patricia.
I frowned.
"Patricia's initials are P.H.""
"Not the woman I'm talking about.""
Evelyn took a breath.
"Margaret had an older sister named Eleanor Hawthorne. She died when Margaret was young. Her name was used on several old family accounts.""
Martin frowned.
"Could the account have been opened under her name?""
"Yes. But why?""
Evelyn looked at the payment.
"Because Margaret used that account to hide money from her husband.""
Rebecca began typing.
"Wait.""
She turned the screen.
The account had been active for decades.
And it had received several deposits from the Hawthorne company.
Some were small.
Others were enormous.
One transaction stood out.
$750,000.
The date was three days after my mother's studio burned.
I stared.
"Who received that money?""
Rebecca opened the transfer details.
The beneficiary was a private trust.
Its name was:
*THE ELEANOR BENNETT RESTORATION TRUST.*
I felt my breath catch.
"My mother had a trust?""
Martin nodded slowly.
"It appears so.""
"But she never told me.""
"Perhaps she didn't know it existed.""
Evelyn looked deeply troubled.
"My mother may have created it.""
"Why would Margaret create a trust for my mother?""
Evelyn looked at the photograph of Eleanor Bennett standing outside the burned studio.
"Because she knew what Patricia had done.""
I stared.
"Then Margaret was trying to help my mother?""
Evelyn nodded.
"I believe so.""
The room went quiet.
Then Rebecca opened the trust document.
The original beneficiary was Eleanor Bennett.
The successor beneficiary was Maya Bennett.
The amount listed in the account summary was more than four million dollars.
I sank into my chair.
Four million.
My mother had struggled to pay rent while money intended for her sat in a hidden account.
"Who controlled it?"" Laura asked.
Rebecca scrolled down.
The answer appeared.
*TRUST ADMINISTRATOR: DANIEL REEVES.*
Martin stood abruptly.
"That man has been controlling the trust for twenty-eight years?""
"Apparently.""
"Then he's not just stealing documents. He's been withholding money that belongs to Maya.""
Laura's expression hardened.
"That changes everything.""
I looked at the screen.
The story was no longer simply about stolen designs.
It was about a woman who had been systematically robbed of her work, her reputation, her business, and possibly her inheritance.
And the man responsible had spent years pretending to protect the family.
My phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
A message appeared.
If you want the original fire report, come to the old Bennett House property tonight. Come alone.
I showed Laura.
She immediately shook her head.
"No.""
"I need to know who sent it.""
"That's exactly what they want.""
Another message arrived.
This time, it contained a photograph.
Daniel Reeves was standing inside an abandoned building.
Behind him was a large metal cabinet.
I recognized the room.
It was the basement of my mother's old studio.
Then a final message appeared.
Your mother didn't lose everything in that fire, Maya. She hid the one thing Patricia has been trying to find for twenty-eight years.
I stared at the photograph.
A small blue flower had been painted on the cabinet.
The same symbol appeared on the red wax seal of Margaret's letter.
I looked at Martin.
"Do you know what's inside that cabinet?""
He shook his head.
But Evelyn suddenly stood.
"I do.""
Everyone turned toward her.
She looked at me, tears filling her eyes.
"Your mother told Margaret that if anything happened to her, the truth would be hidden beneath the old studio.""
"Beneath it?""
Evelyn nodded.
"There's a sealed room under the original cutting floor.""
I felt my pulse quicken.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?""
"Because the entrance was sealed after the fire.""
Martin grabbed his coat.
"Then we need to get there before Daniel destroys whatever is inside.""
Laura immediately called the police.
But as she spoke, another message arrived.
It was from Vanessa.
Please don't go to the studio without me.
I called her.
She answered immediately.
"Vanessa, what's happening?""
Her voice was shaking.
"I found something in Mom's bedroom.""
"What?""
"A photograph of Daniel and my mother outside the studio the night of the fire.""
I closed my eyes.
"Send it to me.""
A few seconds later, the photograph arrived.
Patricia was standing beside Daniel.
Both were holding flashlights.
But that wasn't what made my blood run cold.
Standing behind them was a third person.
A man wearing a dark coat.
A man I recognized from the photograph Martin had shown me at the café.
Richard Hawthorne.
I stared at the screen.
Richard had supposedly been in Boston that night.
But he had been at the studio.
And if he had been there, then perhaps the story of his final attempt to return my mother's designs was not the whole truth.
I enlarged the photograph.
On the back was a handwritten date and a sentence.
The three people who knew where the Blue Promise was hidden.
Then, beneath it, were three names.
Patricia Hawthorne.
Daniel Reeves.
Richard Hawthorne.
I looked toward Laura.
"Richard was there.""
Laura examined the photograph.
"Then we need to know what happened inside that building.""
My phone rang again.
This time, it was Vanessa.
She was crying.
"Maya, there's something else.""
"What?""
"I found a letter from my father.""
I froze.
"Richard?""
"Yes.""
"What does it say?""
Her breathing became uneven.
Then she whispered:
"Mom didn't set the fire alone.""
I gripped the phone.
"Who helped her?""
Vanessa began sobbing.
May you like
"Someone from your family.""
And before I could ask another question, the call abruptly disconnected.
