Chapter 15 - THE WOMAN WHO OPENED THE DOOR|
I spent the night searching my memories.
My grandmother had rarely spoken about the night my mother died. When she did, she described the rain, the hospital corridor, and the telephone call that had sent her rushing from the house.
She had never named the caller.
I had assumed she did not know.
Now I wondered whether she had simply been afraid to tell me.
The following morning, I returned to the estate archives with Adrian.
We examined the old correspondence again, looking for any reference to the hospital call.
One letter contained a handwritten note.
Eleanor has agreed to meet us. She believes the caller is someone she can trust.
The note was signed by Richard Cole.
Adrian stared at it.
"My father arranged the meeting."
"Did he know who called her?"
"I don't know."
We searched the remaining documents.
Near the bottom of a box, I found a folded page bearing my grandmother's handwriting.
I opened the door because I believed I was saving my daughter.
I will spend the rest of my life wondering whether I helped send her to her death.
I felt my hands go cold.
Adrian read the words over my shoulder.
"Your grandmother may have been manipulated."
"Or she may have known more than she told me."
We contacted the retired attorney who had handled the original investigation.
He agreed to meet us that afternoon.
Samuel Price arrived carrying a leather folder.
He listened while I explained what we had found.
Then he removed a document from his bag.
It was a transcript of a telephone call made from my grandmother's house on the night my mother died.
The caller had identified himself as Richard Cole.
He claimed he had evidence proving Michael intended to kill my mother and asked Eleanor to meet him at the hospital.
But the voice had never been authenticated.
Samuel looked at Adrian.
"Your father denied making the call."
Adrian went pale.
"Why wasn't that in the official report?"
"Because the recording disappeared."
I looked at the transcript.
"Then who called my grandmother?"
Samuel shook his head.
"We never found out."
He paused.
"But there was one other person who knew the details."
"Who?"
"Michael's private secretary. A woman named Laura Whitmore."
Vanessa's mother.
Samuel explained that Laura had managed Michael's personal correspondence for years. She had access to his schedule, his private telephone lines, and the information he used to manipulate people.
After Michael disappeared, Laura had married a wealthy investor and raised Vanessa away from the Cole organization.
She had died five years earlier.
But her personal papers had never been recovered.
Adrian looked at me.
"Vanessa may know where they are."
We arranged to question Vanessa through her attorney.
She had agreed to cooperate with investigators, but she refused to meet Adrian directly.
Instead, she asked to speak with me.
I arrived at the detention facility the following morning.
Vanessa looked smaller without her designer clothes and carefully arranged appearance.
She stared at my short hair.
"Does it grow back?"
"Yes."
She looked down.
"I didn't think about what I was doing."
"You thought about it enough to bring scissors."
She flinched.
For a moment, I felt the old anger rise.
Then I remembered why I had come.
"Your mother worked for Michael Cole."
Vanessa nodded.
"She did."
"Do you have her papers?"
"Some."
"Where?"
She looked at me for a long time.
"Why should I help you?"
I leaned forward.
"Because your father helped your fiancé's family destroy my mother's life. Because you tried to use my grandmother's records to protect your own position. And because there is still a man out there who believes everyone belongs to him."
Vanessa's eyes filled.
"I didn't know Michael was alive."
"That doesn't change what you did."
"I know."
She swallowed.
"My mother kept a storage unit in Providence. She told me never to open it unless I wanted to understand why she left the Cole organization."
"What's inside?"
"I don't know."
"Then why tell me?"
Vanessa looked at me.
"Because the key is in my father's safe. And if you want the truth, you should know that my mother was the person who called your grandmother that night."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
Vanessa shook her head.
"She believed she was arranging a meeting that would save your mother."
"Who was she trying to protect?"
Vanessa's voice dropped.
"Your father."
I felt the room tilt.
Thomas Bennett had spent years believing that he had failed to protect my mother.
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But according to Vanessa, my mother had died because someone was trying to save him.
And the woman who made that call had been Vanessa's own mother.
