Chapter 14 - The Daughter Who Hid the Truth|
Marlene Shaw cried when I told her I'd spoken with Cecilia Grant.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
She simply sat down and covered her face with both hands.
For several minutes, she couldn't speak.
I had never imagined seeing her like that.
When she finally looked up, her eyes were red.
“Elise was nineteen.”
Her voice trembled.
“She was studying public health. She believed people with money had an obligation to help those without it.”
I sat beside her.
“She discovered something about Roland.”
Marlene nodded.
“She helped organize a charity audit for one of our foundations.”
“What happened?”
“She found discrepancies.”
Marlene looked toward the window.
“Millions in donations had been moved through companies connected to Roland's investments.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did she confront him?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He told her she was too young to understand financial accounting.”
Marlene gave a bitter laugh.
“He said she should focus on school.”
But Elise hadn't stopped.
She contacted an independent accountant.
She spoke to Cecilia Grant.
She began collecting documents.
Then, two weeks before she was scheduled to meet with investigators, she died in a highway collision.
Police ruled it an accident.
Marlene stared at the photograph of her daughter.
“For eleven years, Roland told me to stop asking questions.”
Her voice cracked.
“He said grief was making me paranoid.”
I looked at her.
“Did you believe him?”
“For a while.”
She wiped her eyes.
“Then I began finding things.”
The insurance paperwork.
The collateral agreements.
The unusual transfers connected to the hospitals.
And finally, the emerald necklace.
Elise had loved that necklace.
Marlene had promised it would belong to her someday.
Shortly before her death, Elise had modified the clasp.
But after the accident, Roland placed the necklace into storage.
Years later, it became collateral for one of his business loans.
Marlene had never been given unrestricted access to examine it.
Until now.
The necklace had been secured as evidence, but through her attorney, Marlene arranged for an independent specialist to examine the clasp under proper supervision.
The following afternoon, she called me.
“June.”
Her voice shook.
“We found it.”
“What?”
“Something inside the clasp.”
My heart began pounding.
“What's inside?”
“A tightly rolled strip of photographic film.”
A few hours later, we met at Nadine's office.
The specialist had produced enlarged images from the film.
They showed handwritten account numbers.
Company names.
Payment dates.
And copies of documents linking Roland's investments to questionable hospital contracts.
But one image was different.
It showed a handwritten message from Elise.
If you're reading this, someone finally found the necklace.
My throat tightened.
The next sentence made Marlene begin crying again.
Mom, I didn't die because of an accident.
I stared at the enlarged writing.
Beneath it was one final line.
Find the woman named Evelyn Price. She has the original files.
Nadine looked up.
“Evelyn Price?”
I shook my head.
“I don't know her.”
Marlene stared at the message.
Her expression slowly changed.
May you like
Then she whispered:
“I do.”
