Chapter 4 - THE COAT
Adrian’s expression hardened immediately.
“You knew.”
Nora shook her head.
“I knew my mother worked here years ago. I didn’t know anything about this coat.”
“How long?”
“Six years.”
“Doing what?”
“Housekeeping.”
“When?”
Nora understood what he was really asking.
“Until four years ago.”
Grant looked at her sharply.
“The year Elena died.”
“Yes.”
Adrian stepped away from the coat.
The warmth he had shown Maya disappeared.
“You applied for a job in my home and never thought this was worth mentioning?”
“I applied to work banquet service.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Then give me one.”
Nora’s own temper finally rose.
“My mother was a housekeeper. Not an assassin.”
Grant inhaled.
Adrian’s eyes flashed.
“I did not accuse her of murder.”
“You looked at me like you were about to.”
“That tag puts her in possession of my father’s coat.”
“It puts the coat in a laundry room.”
Adrian said nothing.
Nora pointed at the tag.
“Housekeeping labels clothing. That doesn’t mean she stole it.”
Grant quietly said, “She’s right.”
Adrian glanced at him.
Grant continued.
“These tags were used whenever formal clothing was sent for cleaning or repair.”
Nora looked again.
The tag had been stitched at the hem.
Her anger faded into dread.
“My mother stopped working here three days after Elena died.”
Adrian’s face changed.
“You remember the date?”
“I remember because she spent the next week in the hospital.”
Grant turned.
“For what?”
Nora hesitated.
“She told me a driver hit her near South Street.”
Adrian stared at her.
“The night of Elena’s accident?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said three days after.”
“She came home injured the morning after Elena died. She refused to tell me where she’d been.”
Nora’s voice became quieter.
“I was twenty-four. I thought she was protecting me from some stupid argument with a boyfriend.”
“Did she have one?”
“No.”
Adrian studied the coat again.
Then something tiny glinted near the lining.
He reached inside a tear below the pocket.
His fingers closed around a small object.
A red enamel charm.
It was shaped like a bird.
Nora’s stomach dropped.
Adrian held it up.
“What?”
She did not answer.
“Nora.”
“My mother had a bracelet.”
She felt suddenly unsteady.
“Red enamel charms. Birds, flowers, little houses.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At my apartment.”
He reached for the garment bag.
“We’re going.”
Nora stared at him.
“No.”
Grant looked between them.
Adrian’s tone became dangerously calm.
“What?”
“You don’t get to decide you’re walking into my apartment because you’re suspicious.”
“I’m not suspicious of you.”
“You’ve been suspicious of me for the last five minutes.”
“I am trying to understand why your mother’s jewelry is sewn inside a coat connected to my sister’s death.”
“She was injured.”
“So was Maya.”
The words hit Nora harder than he intended.
He knew it immediately.
His shoulders lowered slightly.
“I’m sorry.”
Nora looked away.
“I know what that child lost.”
“So do I.”
They stood facing each other beside the old brown coat.
Finally Nora said, “We go together. Grant comes too.”
Adrian frowned.
“Why Grant?”
“Because when powerful men get angry, witnesses are useful.”
Grant made a sound that might almost have been a laugh.
Adrian did not.
But after a moment, he nodded.
“Fair.”
Nora lived in a second-floor apartment above a pharmacy in South Philadelphia.
Adrian’s car looked ridiculous outside.
She unlocked the door.
Nothing about the apartment embarrassed her until Adrian Vale stood inside it.
Then she noticed everything.
The worn couch.
The chipped kitchen tile.
The space heater beside the window.
The stack of utility bills held down by a coffee mug.
Adrian noticed too.
But he said nothing.
Nora walked into her bedroom and pulled a shoebox from the top shelf of the closet.
Inside were photographs, birthday cards, hospital bracelets, old recipes, and the few pieces of jewelry Marian Bennett had owned.
Nora removed the bracelet.
Six red enamel charms remained.
One empty ring hung beside them.
Adrian placed the bird charm next to it.
Perfect fit.
Grant looked grim.
“Marian was wearing this bracelet when she handled the coat.”
“Or when someone wearing the coat grabbed her,” Nora said.
Adrian looked at her.
That possibility had not occurred to him.
Nora searched the box.
Beneath the jewelry was the hospital wristband from Marian’s accident.
She handed it to Grant.
He read the admission time.
“1:42 a.m.”
Adrian’s face changed.
“Elena crashed at 12:58.”
Nora sat slowly on the edge of the bed.
Her mother had lied.
Not about being hurt.
About where.
Grant searched the hospital name.
“Penn Presbyterian.”
Nora frowned.
“That’s across town from where she said she was hit.”
Adrian picked up an old photograph.
It showed the staff of Vale House at a Christmas party.
Nora remembered it.
Her mother stood near the back.
Beside her was a younger Grant.
A smiling Elena.
And Malcolm Voss.
Malcolm wore a silver watch.
The crown held a blue stone.
A thin blue scratch crossed the metal beside it.
Nobody spoke.
Nora felt the story rearranging itself.
Her mother.
The coat.
The bracelet.
The hospital.
Malcolm.
Adrian stared at Malcolm’s face in the photograph.
“He has protected Maya for four years.”
Grant said, “He protected all of us longer than that.”
“That isn’t comforting.”
Nora continued looking through the box.
At the very bottom was an envelope.
Her name was written across it.
NORA.
She recognized her mother’s handwriting immediately.
Her hands began to shake.
“I’ve never seen this.”
Adrian moved closer but did not touch it.
Nora opened the envelope.
Inside was one folded page.
There were only two lines.
If Adrian Vale ever asks about Elena, tell him I failed her once.
But I never betrayed her.
Nora read it twice.
Then she noticed something taped behind the paper.
A small brass key.
Grant leaned closer.
Adrian looked from the key to Nora.
“What does it open?”
May you like
Nora closed her hand around it.
“I have no idea.”
