Chapter 4 - THE WATCH BURIED BENEATH THE OAK
“Grandma's broken watch,” Gabriel repeated. “Why would Benjamin draw that?”
Olivia looked toward the sleeping boy.
“He saw it once when Mrs. Bellamy visited, before his mother died. The glass was cracked. He asked why she never fixed it.”
Gabriel remembered the watch.
A small silver woman's wristwatch with a blue leather strap.
Evelyn had worn it for years.
But in Benjamin's drawing, it rested beneath the oak tree.
And Victor was preparing to destroy that exact spot.
“Stay with my son,” Gabriel told Olivia.
Then he ran.
By the time he reached the south lawn, a chainsaw was already running.
“Shut it off!”
The gardener turned.
Victor DeMarco stood beside the excavator in an expensive gray coat.
He was forty-five, broad-shouldered, perfectly groomed, and accustomed to being obeyed.
“Gabriel,” Victor said calmly. “This isn't necessary.”
Gabriel marched toward him.
“Get these men off my property.”
“The tree is dangerous.”
“Then why did you schedule its removal without telling me?”
Victor glanced at the workers.
“Give us a minute.”
The chainsaw stopped.
Gabriel stepped closer.
“I heard the recording.”
For the first time, Victor's expression changed.
“What recording?”
“Catherine's.”
Victor looked toward the mansion.
Then back at Gabriel.
“Whatever you think you've found, we shouldn't discuss it outside.”
“Why? Afraid someone might hear what you said to my wife?”
Victor lowered his voice.
“Be careful.”
Gabriel stared at him.
“Is that a threat?”
“It's advice from your brother.”
“Then here's some advice from me. Stay away from Benjamin.”
Victor's face tightened.
“I love that boy.”
“He's afraid of you.”
“That child has been traumatized. You know that.”
Gabriel remembered Benjamin trembling in his study.
“Don't use his pain to excuse yourself.”
Miles arrived with two guards.
Gabriel pointed toward the service gate.
“Escort my brother out.”
Victor looked genuinely stunned.
“You're throwing me off our family's property?”
“This is my home. Catherine died here. And my son is finally trying to tell me why.”
Victor's eyes flickered toward the oak.
“You're making a mistake.”
Gabriel stepped aside.
“Then I'll live with it.”
After Victor left, Gabriel ordered the workers to stop.
He dismissed the landscaping crew and asked Miles to photograph the area before anyone touched the soil.
They worked carefully around the roots.
Nearly forty minutes passed.
Then a gardener's hand shovel struck metal.
Gabriel dropped to his knees.
Beneath six inches of soil lay a small rectangular biscuit tin, wrapped in deteriorating plastic.
Its lid had been sealed with yellowing tape.
Gabriel recognized Catherine's handwriting across the top.
For the day Benjamin is old enough to understand.
His chest tightened.
Miles photographed the container before Gabriel opened it.
Inside were three objects.
A silver wristwatch.
A faded ferry ticket.
And a folded photograph.
Gabriel picked up the watch.
Its blue leather strap was badly worn, and a crack ran diagonally across the glass.
The hands were stopped at 8:17.
He recognized it immediately.
Evelyn had worn it at Catherine and Gabriel's wedding.
But something else caught his attention.
On the back were two engraved initials.
E.D.
Elena DeMarco.
His mother.
Gabriel sat back on his heels.
“Evelyn told us this was her watch.”
Miles examined the engraving.
“Apparently, it belonged to your mother first.”
Gabriel remembered his mother's final morning.
She had kissed his forehead before leaving for a meeting.
He had been thirteen, angry because she wouldn't let him skip school to go fishing.
She'd promised to take him Saturday.
Saturday never came.
For twenty-five years, he had believed she'd died instantly in a car accident on the old river road.
Now her watch was buried beneath the tree his wife had loved.
And his wife was dead.
Gabriel unfolded the photograph.
It showed his mother standing beside a white sedan near a riverside building.
A much younger Victor stood several feet behind her.
Another woman appeared near the doorway.
Gabriel studied her face.
Evelyn Bellamy.
She was holding a medical bag.
“Why would they all be together?” Miles asked.
Gabriel couldn't answer.
He turned over the photograph.
Written in faded blue ink were four words.
She was still alive.
Gabriel stared.
His mother's death certificate had always stated that she died at the scene of the crash.
The emergency report listed 8:17 p.m.
The exact time shown on the broken watch.
Gabriel picked up the ferry ticket.
It was dated the night his mother died.
Its departure time was 8:42 p.m.
Twenty-five minutes after the official time of death.
A passenger's name appeared across the bottom.
Evelyn Bellamy.
Gabriel stood abruptly.
“Bring Evelyn back.”
Miles nodded.
“And Gabriel?”
“What?”
“We need to preserve this properly. If someone falsified a death report, these may be evidence.”
Gabriel looked at the tin.
“Contact a state investigator outside Victor's influence. Quietly.”
He wouldn't let his family's reputation bury another woman's death.
Not again.
Inside the mansion, Benjamin was awake.
He sat at the kitchen table while Olivia cut an apple into small slices.
When Gabriel entered, the boy looked immediately at the watch.
His expression changed.
Gabriel placed it on the table.
“Buddy, do you remember this?”
Benjamin nodded.
“Grandma had it.”
“Yes.”
The boy touched the cracked glass.
Then he pointed toward the back of the storybook, which Olivia had brought downstairs.
Gabriel opened the final page.
Benjamin reached for a pencil.
He drew a blue line around the oak tree.
Then he drew a small circle.
Inside it, he placed two hands of a clock.
One short.
One long.
Both pointed toward a time.
8:17.
Gabriel looked toward Olivia.
“Catherine must have taught him about the watch.”
Olivia shook her head gently.
“Maybe. But look at the other drawing.”
Gabriel turned the page.
Benjamin had drawn a woman lying near a staircase.
Beside her stood two adults.
A third figure was near the doorway.
At the bottom, a small clock showed 9:20.
Gabriel felt his stomach tighten.
“Nine twenty?”
Benjamin nodded.
“That was when Mommy fell.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
The official investigation had estimated Catherine's death at approximately 9:20 p.m.
But the watch had stopped twenty-five years earlier.
Two tragedies.
Two times.
And two women who had died after discovering something about the DeMarco family.
That afternoon, Evelyn returned.
Gabriel placed the watch and ferry ticket before her.
Her face drained of color.
“Where did you get those?”
“Catherine buried them.”
Evelyn sank into a chair.
“Oh, Catherine.”
Gabriel sat across from her.
“You told me my mother died in that crash.”
Evelyn covered her mouth.
“That's what everyone was told.”
“But you were there afterward.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why did you have her watch?”
“She gave it to me.”
“When?”
Evelyn looked down.
“Before she died.”
Gabriel struggled to breathe evenly.
“Then she didn't die at 8:17.”
“No.”
The word seemed to change the air inside the room.
“How long did she live?”
Evelyn began crying.
“Several hours.”
Gabriel pressed his palms against the table.
“Was Victor there?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know she was alive?”
Evelyn looked at him helplessly.
“He was the one who brought her to us.”
Gabriel stared.
His brother had spent twenty-five years describing their mother's accident.
Her final moments.
Her suffering.
He had told Gabriel there was nothing anyone could have done.
Now Gabriel understood that Victor had known a very different story.
Evelyn picked up the ferry ticket with trembling fingers.
“I was a nurse at a private riverside clinic. Your mother was brought there after the accident.”
“Why wasn't she taken to a hospital?”
“Your father ordered Victor to keep her away from the police.”
Gabriel's voice hardened.
“Why?”
Evelyn looked at the photograph.
“Because Elena had discovered what your father was doing with the injured workers' money.”
She took a long, painful breath.
“And because the accident wasn't the first thing someone had done to stop her.”
Gabriel leaned forward.
“What does that mean?”
Evelyn opened her handbag and removed an old, flattened paper envelope.
“I've carried this for twenty-five years because I promised your mother I would give it to you when it was safe.”
Gabriel reached for it.
But Evelyn pulled it back.
“Before you read this, there's something you need to understand.”
“What?”
“Your mother wasn't trying to leave you. She was trying to save you and Victor.”
Gabriel stared at her.
Evelyn placed the envelope on the table.
May you like
On the front, in his mother's unmistakable handwriting, were the words:
GABRIEL—IF VICTOR TELLS YOU I DIED IN THE ACCIDENT, ASK HIM WHY HE SIGNED THE TRANSFER ORDER.
