Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN WHO TRIED TO STEAL A CHILD'S LAST MEMORY
"Nobody touches that music box."
My voice cut through the mansion's entrance hall as Adele wheeled me through the doors.
Eleanor Whitfield turned sharply.
Charles Beaumont stood beside her, looking irritated rather than surprised.
Maria rushed past my wheelchair.
"Where's Lily?"
Mrs. Ellis appeared at the top of the staircase.
"She's with me, sweetheart. She's perfectly safe."
Maria pressed a hand against her chest.
Only then did she look at Eleanor.
"Why do you have my daughter's music box?"
Eleanor glanced down at the dented tin object.
"I found it in the ballroom. I was going to return it."
"Then why were you outside the guest hallway?" I asked.
Charles answered before she could.
"Daniel, there's been a misunderstanding. Eleanor was simply trying to resolve an unfortunate staffing issue."
"What staffing issue?"
He sighed.
"The housekeeper has made serious accusations against people attending your charity event. I thought it best to remove her before things became embarrassing."
I looked at him.
"You're a guest in my house, Charles. You don't dismiss my employees."
His smile disappeared.
"I've contributed generously to your hospital fundraiser."
"Then you understand generosity doesn't purchase authority over my family."
The word surprised even me.
Family.
Maria looked down.
Charles stiffened.
"Careful, Daniel. Mercy Children's Hospital is counting on my foundation's contribution."
Eleanor touched his arm.
"Charles, enough."
He pulled away.
Adele approached Eleanor.
"The music box, please."
Eleanor surrendered it without argument.
But when Adele opened the lid, something rattled inside.
The tiny ballerina had been removed.
Its brass spindle lay bent against the velvet lining.
Maria gasped.
"Why would you do that?"
Eleanor looked genuinely confused.
"I didn't touch the mechanism."
I watched Charles.
He avoided my eyes.
Adele examined the music box carefully.
"The screws were loosened. Recently."
Charles laughed.
"Are we seriously investigating a broken children's toy?"
I looked directly at him.
"Yes."
He stopped laughing.
I ordered Adele to preserve the box exactly as it was.
Then I asked Eleanor to remain behind.
Charles objected, but she surprised us by saying, "I'll stay."
After he left, I studied her.
Earlier that evening, she'd refused to dance with me in front of three hundred people.
Now she sat opposite me in the library, visibly uncomfortable.
"Why did Charles want Maria dismissed?" I asked.
Eleanor folded her hands.
"He said she'd accused him of something involving a dead mechanic."
"Did he mention the mechanic's name?"
"No."
"Then why did you bring him the music box?"
She hesitated.
"Charles said the child's mother might be hiding something inside it."
There it was.
He'd known what he wanted.
"What did he offer you in return?"
Eleanor looked offended.
"Nothing."
I waited.
Finally, her shoulders sagged.
"He's threatening to withdraw his hospital funding unless I support the renewal of his transportation contract."
I stared at her.
"Mercy Children's Hospital uses Beaumont Outreach Services?"
"For equipment deliveries, medication transfers, and the mobile treatment program."
"For how long?"
"Almost four years."
Nearly a year before my crash.
Eleanor rubbed her forehead.
"The hospital is expanding its pediatric rehabilitation wing. Without Charles's contribution, we could lose months of construction."
"And you were willing to sacrifice a housekeeper's livelihood to protect his donation?"
Her eyes filled.
"I told myself I was protecting sick children."
"That's what people tell themselves when they don't want to admit who's paying the price."
She looked away.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Eleanor said something unexpected.
"Charles has become increasingly controlling about the hospital's transportation records."
I leaned forward.
"Explain."
"Last month, our accountants requested invoices from three years ago. Charles threatened to terminate every delivery contract if we continued the review."
"Why were the accountants looking that far back?"
"An anonymous complaint. Someone claimed invoices had been submitted for deliveries that never happened."
I thought of the white truck in Tomas's photographs.
"Do you still have those invoices?"
"Copies, yes."
"Bring them to me."
Eleanor studied my face.
"Daniel, what are you suggesting?"
"That the man holding your hospital hostage may also be connected to the murder of my mechanic."
Her face drained of color.
She promised to retrieve the records.
But after she left, Maria approached my wheelchair.
"Mr. Harrison, I need to tell you something."
I looked up.
"Go ahead."
"After Tomas died, Gordon sent me payments every month. He said they came from a special employee assistance fund."
"Did you keep them?"
"I needed money for Lily. I thought I was accepting help from your company."
She wiped her eyes.
"Then the payments stopped when I began asking about the dates on Tomas's death certificate."
Adele, standing nearby, frowned.
"I can check the payroll records."
Thirty minutes later, she returned carrying a printout.
"Daniel, Gordon didn't pay Maria through the employee assistance fund."
"Then where did the money come from?"
"An account listed as a mechanical maintenance expense."
Adele placed the printout in front of me.
The payments had been entered under Tomas Reyes's employee number.
For almost three years, my company had continued paying a dead mechanic.
And according to the records, Tomas Reyes had approved several expensive vehicle repairs long after he was buried.
One of those repairs carried a familiar description.
Armored SUV. Brake assembly. Emergency replacement.
The date was two days after my accident.
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Someone had been using a dead man's name to hide what happened to my car.
And the account authorizing those payments belonged directly to Gordon Pryce.
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