Chapter 5 - The Manager Who Sold Her Out
Simon was waiting outside the Brass Rail when police arrived.
He had changed out of his work clothes.
A suitcase sat beside his car.
He looked furious when the detectives approached.
Then frightened.
Harper wasn't there to see his arrest.
She was sitting beside her mother's hospital bed.
Nora Ellis looked painfully small beneath the blanket.
Her gray hair had been brushed away from her face. A bruise marked one wrist, and her lips were dry.
But she was alive.
Harper held her hand.
"Mom?"
Nora's eyes opened.
For a moment, she looked confused.
Then she recognized her daughter.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Harper leaned forward.
"I'm here."
Nora squeezed her fingers.
"I'm here, Mom."
The older woman tried to speak.
Only a broken sound emerged.
"Don't," Harper whispered. "You don't have to."
Nora tapped her hand three times.
Harper smiled through her tears.
"I know."
A physician entered and explained that Nora was stable but needed further evaluation and rehabilitation.
Harper listened carefully.
She asked questions.
She wrote everything down.
For once, nobody treated her like an inconvenience.
A patient advocate helped her understand the next steps.
Nora would remain in the hospital while the team assessed her condition and arranged safe care.
Harper finally exhaled.
Then her phone rang.
Vincent.
She stepped into the hallway.
"They arrested Simon," he said.
Harper closed her eyes.
"Why?"
"He allegedly helped Bell track you."
"Track me?"
"Your shifts. Your visits to Briarwood. Your address."
Harper leaned against the wall.
Her own manager had sold information about her.
"How much?"
Vincent hesitated.
"Five thousand dollars."
She laughed once.
It sounded awful.
"Five thousand."
"Harper—"
"He tried to steal my tip because five thousand apparently wasn't enough."
Vincent said nothing.
She pressed her forehead against the cool wall.
"I worked for that man for three years."
"I know."
"I covered his shifts. I stayed late when other people called in sick."
Her voice broke.
"He knew my mom."
Vincent's tone softened.
"He's going to have to answer questions about what he did."
Harper looked through the glass into her mother's room.
"Good."
The following morning, investigators interviewed Simon.
His attorney was present.
Initially, he denied everything.
Then detectives showed him the video from the assisted-living property.
Simon stopped talking.
Later, he agreed to provide information through his attorney.
He said Bell had contacted him two months earlier.
At first, the requests seemed harmless.
When was Harper working?
How often did she visit her mother?
Did she take anything home from Briarwood?
Then Bell began offering money.
Simon accepted.
When Iris's records disappeared, Bell became desperate.
He believed Harper had received the documents.
Simon had been instructed to search her belongings.
That explained the break-in.
But Harper's blood ran cold when she learned the next detail.
Simon had also reported her financial problems.
Her overdue rent.
Her mother's bills.
Her failing car.
He had told Bell she would be easy to pressure.
Vincent listened to the account in silence.
Then he asked one question.
"Did Simon know who damaged her car?"
The detective shook his head.
"That remains under investigation."
Vincent nodded.
Harper watched him carefully.
"Don't."
He looked at her.
"What?"
"Whatever you're thinking."
His expression tightened.
"I'm not doing anything."
"Promise."
For several seconds, he was silent.
Then he said, "I promise I won't interfere with the investigation or hurt him."
Harper nodded.
It wasn't trust.
Not yet.
But it was a beginning.
That evening, Nora became more alert.
Harper sat beside her, showing her photographs of the farmhouse where she'd grown up.
Then Nora grabbed her wrist.
Three taps.
"Mom?"
Nora pointed toward the bedside drawer.
Harper opened it.
Inside was Nora's handbag, returned with her belongings.
She removed a small notebook.
Nora shook her head.
Harper looked again.
A hairbrush.
A tissue packet.
A folded church bulletin.
Nora tapped three times.
Harper unfolded the bulletin.
On the back, someone had written a telephone number.
And a name.
Grace Bell.
Harper frowned.
"Grace?"
Nora's eyes filled with tears.
She nodded.
Harper called the number.
A young woman answered.
"Hello?"
"Is this Grace Bell?"
A pause.
"Who's asking?"
"My name is Harper Ellis. My mother is Nora Ellis."
Silence.
Then the woman began crying.
"Oh, thank God."
Harper sat down.
"Do you know my mother?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Grace took a shaking breath.
"I used to work at Briarwood."
Harper's heart accelerated.
"Are you related to Adrian Bell?"
Another pause.
"He's my father."
Harper gripped the phone.
"Why did my mother have your number?"
Grace's voice dropped.
"Because she was the only person who believed me."
"Believed what?"
"That my father killed Iris Rossi."
Harper stopped breathing.
May you like
Grace continued.
"And I have a recording that can prove what happened that night."
