Chapter 12 - Eleanor's Confession|
Morgan confronted Eleanor in Chicago.
The older woman opened her apartment door and immediately understood why Morgan had come.
“You found the letter.”
“I found a note telling me to ask what you did the night my grandmother died.”
Eleanor stepped aside.
“Come in.”
Morgan remained standing.
“Tell me the truth.”
Eleanor sat slowly.
“Clara called me the night before she died. She had discovered that someone had entered the cottage and removed several documents. She believed Vance's people were preparing to force the sale.”
“Why didn't you tell the police?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“The report disappeared.”
Morgan stared at her.
Eleanor explained that she had worked with Clara to preserve the property records. On the night of Clara's death, she drove to Door County after receiving a frightened phone call.
When she arrived, Clara was alive but shaken. Someone had threatened her.
Eleanor offered to take her to the police station.
Clara refused.
“She said she needed to protect the original records first,” Eleanor said. “She hid them in the orchard, then made me promise to look after you.”
“What happened after that?”
“I left to find a lawyer. When I returned the next morning, Clara had been taken to the hospital.”
Morgan's voice trembled.
“You left her alone?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought the danger had passed. I believed the men had only wanted the documents.”
Eleanor's eyes filled.
“Clara died two days later from complications after a fall. The official report called it an accident.”
Morgan sat down.
“Do you think she was pushed?”
“I don't know.”
“But you suspect it.”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt more than a denial would have.
Eleanor reached into a drawer and produced an old envelope.
“I kept this because I couldn't bear to destroy it.”
Inside was a photograph of a dark vehicle parked outside the cottage on the night Clara fell. The image was grainy, but the license plate was partly visible.
Morgan recognized the model of the vehicle from photographs she had seen in the Northstar files.
“Did you give this to the police?”
“I tried.”
“Why didn't you give it to me?”
“Because I was afraid that telling you would put you in danger.”
Morgan shook her head.
“Everyone keeps making that decision for me.”
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
“You're right.”
Morgan examined the photograph.
“Can the license plate be traced?”
“Perhaps. I wrote down the numbers I could read.”
Eleanor handed her a small notebook.
The plate belonged to a vehicle registered to a security company that had worked for Northstar.
Morgan felt a cold anger settle inside her.
“Then we give this to Patricia.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I'll testify.”
“Even if it means admitting you left my grandmother alone?”
“Especially then.”
For a moment, Morgan saw the elderly woman from the bus not as a mysterious stranger but as someone who had been living with guilt for years.
That did not erase the harm caused by her silence.
But it made the truth more complicated.
Morgan stood.
“I don't know if I can forgive you.”
“I understand.”
“But I'll give you the chance to tell the truth.”
Eleanor began to cry.
“Thank you.”
Morgan left without embracing her.
Outside, she called Patricia and arranged to deliver the photograph and notebook.
That evening, the attorney received a report from the forensic specialist who had examined the necklace capsule.
The device had contained a miniature transmitter and storage component. Damage from the water had prevented the specialist from recovering all its data, but enough remained to establish that the unit had been modified for surveillance.
There was also a second discovery.
The clasp had been opened and resealed multiple times.
Someone had tested the device before placing it in the necklace.
The final test had occurred two days before Julian gave Morgan the gift.
Morgan stared at the report.
Julian had known what he was doing.
Patricia called again.
“We have enough to request a formal investigation into the surveillance and the forged loan application.”
Morgan looked at the photograph of the necklace.
“Then let's proceed.”
But before she could put down the phone, another call came through.
It was Julian.
His voice was barely audible.
“Morgan, Vance knows about the original documents.”
“How?”
“I don't know. But he's on his way to the cottage.”
Morgan went cold.
“I'm already here.”
Julian whispered five words.
May you like
“Don't let him reach the orchard.”
The call ended.
