Chapter 4 - THE SISTER WHO REMEMBERED TOO MUCH
“BROOKE TOLD ME SHE WAS IN ATLANTA THAT NIGHT.”
Adrian stared at the photograph.
His voice sounded almost unfamiliar.
For five years, Delilah's younger sister had attended dinners at this mansion.
She had celebrated Adrian's birthdays.
She had even helped choose flowers for tonight's engagement party.
And Adrian had never known she was connected to his wife's final hours.
Detective Bennett closed her notebook.
“I need to speak with both Prescott sisters.”
Adrian immediately reached for his telephone.
Bennett stopped him.
“Not with an accusation. Let me handle the interviews.”
He looked ready to argue.
Then he glanced at Mara's photograph and lowered his hand.
“Fine.”
I expected him to dismiss me.
Instead, he asked whether I would stay long enough to explain where I'd found Frank.
I agreed.
But I insisted that Mrs. Alvarez receive an update and that somebody retrieve my belongings from the staff quarters.
Adrian nodded without hesitation.
“Samuel, arrange it.”
Then he looked at my feet.
“And have someone bring Natalie a proper pair of shoes.”
Twenty minutes later, I sat in the library wearing borrowed flats.
Detective Bennett had separated Brooke from Delilah under the pretext of asking everyone about the incident involving Frank.
Brooke entered first.
She was twenty-nine, with dark blond hair and the same delicate features as her older sister.
But she looked nothing like Delilah tonight.
Her lipstick had faded.
Her hands trembled.
And she kept touching the silver bracelet on her wrist.
Bennett asked her to sit.
“Ms. Prescott, were you inside your sister's Mercedes this evening?”
Brooke glanced toward the door.
“Yes.”
“Who was driving?”
“Owen.”
“Where were you going?”
She swallowed.
“To the freight office.”
“Why?”
“Delilah said we needed to speak with Frank.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“Brooke, Frank is in the hospital because somebody hit him with that car.”
Her eyes filled.
“I know.”
The words hung in the room.
Bennett leaned forward.
“Tell us what happened.”
Brooke looked at me.
For a moment, I saw something like shame cross her face.
“I didn't know Natalie would find him.”
“That wasn't my question,” Bennett said.
Brooke squeezed her hands together.
“Owen stopped near the service road. Delilah told Frank to come closer.”
“Why?”
“Because she wanted him to sign something.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“What?”
“A statement saying Mara was confused the night she died.”
Nobody moved.
Brooke continued.
“Frank refused. He said he'd already spent five years being a coward.”
Her voice broke.
“He walked away. Delilah started yelling. Owen drove forward.”
“Did he deliberately hit Frank?” Bennett asked.
“I don't know what he meant to do.”
“Did he stop?”
Brooke shook her head.
“I screamed at him to stop. But Delilah told him to keep driving.”
Adrian looked toward the hallway.
His fiancée was somewhere beyond those doors.
Still wearing her engagement ring.
Still entertaining guests who knew nothing about Frank.
Bennett asked another question.
“Brooke, why was your bracelet visible outside the passenger window?”
“I was trying to open the door.”
“While the vehicle was moving?”
“Yes. I wanted to get out.”
Her shoulders shook.
“I thought Frank was dead.”
I could see she was terrified.
But fear didn't erase responsibility.
“You left him there,” I said quietly.
Brooke raised her eyes.
“I know.”
“His breathing was so weak I thought he might die before help arrived.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I'm sorry.”
I didn't tell her that was enough.
Because it wasn't.
Detective Bennett allowed a short silence.
Then she changed the subject.
“Were you with Mara Kingsley the night she died?”
Brooke froze.
Her hands stopped moving.
“I was twenty-four,” she whispered.
“That isn't an answer.”
“Yes.”
Adrian leaned forward.
“Why did you never tell me?”
Brooke looked at him.
“Because Delilah said you would blame me.”
“For what?”
Her lips trembled.
“She said I had already ruined enough lives.”
Bennett waited.
Finally, Brooke spoke.
“Mara found something wrong with the trucks. She wanted us to stop the night shipment.”
“Did you stop it?” Adrian asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because my father had promised the delivery would leave before midnight. If it didn't, Prescott Freight would lose its biggest contract.”
Adrian stared at her.
“What happened to Mara?”
Brooke covered her mouth.
“I didn't see her die.”
“Then what did you see?”
She looked toward the window.
“I saw them put her in the car.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Who?”
“Owen and another man.”
“Was Mara conscious?”
Brooke nodded.
Barely.
“Yes.”
Adrian stumbled backward.
I had never seen a man look so devastated.
Bennett asked, “Where was your sister?”
Brooke whispered, “Standing beside the driver's door.”
Then her expression changed.
She reached into her handbag.
From a small leather pocket, she removed a brass key attached to a faded red ribbon.
“I kept this because I thought someday I might be brave enough.”
She placed it on the table.
“It's Mara's old storage locker key.”
Adrian recognized it immediately.
“That locker was emptied after her funeral.”
Brooke shook her head.
“Not the one at the estate.”
May you like
She looked directly at him.
“The one at Bay 14. Mara left something inside it that Delilah has spent five years trying to find.”
