Chapter 4 - WHAT CAROLINE LEFT BEHIND
“Get my son out of the way?”
Dominic's voice was dangerously calm.
Andrew immediately glanced toward Ethan.
“I didn't mean it like that.”
“Then tell me what you meant.”
Andrew tightened his grip on the blue folder.
Victoria stepped between them.
“Dominic, this is a business matter.”
“You made my son's life a business matter.”
“Please listen.”
Dominic looked at her.
“Then start telling the truth.”
Victoria took a breath.
“Andrew's company needs temporary access through the eastern section of Caroline's lake property.”
Dominic stared.
“You told me the development was across the county road.”
“It is,” Andrew interrupted. “But the construction vehicles need another route.”
“Through my wife's land?”
“Through a narrow section nobody uses.”
Dominic shook his head.
“Caroline used that trail every Saturday.”
Andrew sighed.
“Caroline has been gone four years.”
The words landed like a slap.
Dominic stepped toward him.
For one frightening moment, I thought the most feared man in Connecticut's underworld was going to show us exactly why people feared him.
Instead, he stopped.
He looked toward Ethan.
His son was watching.
Dominic lowered his hands.
“Anna, please take Ethan inside.”
I reached for the boy.
But Ethan wouldn't move.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Are they taking Mommy's lake house too?”
Dominic crouched.
“No.”
“Promise?”
He hesitated for only a second.
“I promise I'll protect what belongs to you.”
Ethan looked toward Andrew's folder.
Then he whispered, “Victoria said we couldn't keep old things.”
Dominic kissed his forehead.
“Your mother isn't an old thing to throw away.”
I guided Ethan inside.
He walked slowly because Buddy had to rest, and his father had insisted the dog stay in a comfortable room beside the kitchen.
When we reached the sitting room, Ethan sat beside Buddy's blanket.
“Miss Anna?”
“Yes?”
“Did Mommy really own a lake house?”
I sat beside him.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Daddy doesn't talk about it.”
I knew that was true.
Caroline had grown up spending summers at a modest lakeside cottage in Connecticut.
Her grandparents had owned it.
Later, she inherited the property.
She loved the trees, the walking trails, and the small wooden dock.
After she married Dominic, she refused every suggestion that they replace the cottage with something larger.
She said the old house was perfect.
When Caroline died, the cottage and surrounding land became part of a trust established for Ethan.
Dominic managed the property with Caroline's older sister, Julia Sullivan.
Ethan would eventually inherit it.
That was all I knew.
“Mommy said the lake was where people could be quiet,” Ethan told me.
I smiled.
“That sounds nice.”
He studied his bracelet.
“She said Buddy liked it because nobody told him to get off the furniture.”
I laughed softly.
Then he stopped smiling.
“Will Victoria take that away too?”
I looked into his eyes.
“Your father knows how important it is.”
Ethan lowered his head.
“He knew Buddy was important.”
I had no answer.
That was the terrible part.
His father loved him.
But love hadn't prevented the damage.
Outside, Dominic had taken Andrew's folder.
Later that afternoon, I learned what it contained.
Andrew owned a development company called Whitmore Coastal Properties.
Three years earlier, he'd purchased land near Caroline's lake, hoping to build an expensive resort community.
Construction costs rose.
Permits were delayed.
A financing partner withdrew.
Now the business was approaching default.
A temporary construction road through the eastern edge of Ethan's property could save the project.
Without that access, Andrew faced enormous losses.
Victoria had convinced Dominic months earlier that supporting her brother might help strengthen their families.
Dominic had loaned Andrew money.
But he'd refused to involve Caroline's land.
That refusal was apparently what Andrew intended to change.
At four that afternoon, Dominic called me into his study.
His attorney, Michael Russo, was already there.
The blue folder lay open on the desk.
Dominic looked tired.
“Anna, I need to know whether Victoria ever asked you to remove things from Caroline's lake house.”
I frowned.
“I've never cleaned that property, sir.”
“Did she ask about keys?”
I thought carefully.
“Last month, she asked where the cottage photographs were kept.”
“Which photographs?”
“The old albums from Caroline's family.”
Michael looked up.
“That's interesting.”
Dominic turned.
“Why?”
Michael pointed toward the contract.
“Someone has attached an old survey showing the shoreline before Caroline inherited the eastern parcel.”
I didn't understand.
He explained.
“The agreement describes a construction route that would cross land Caroline specifically placed under protection for Ethan.”
Dominic stared at the page.
“That trail was supposed to remain untouched.”
“Exactly.”
Michael turned another page.
“Both trustees would have to approve a legitimate access agreement. And even then, the trust's restrictions would need to be respected.”
“Julia would never approve this.”
Michael's expression became serious.
“According to this document, she already has.”
He pointed toward a signature.
Julia Sullivan.
Dominic went very still.
“That's impossible.”
Michael continued.
“It's dated three weeks ago.”
Three weeks.
The same time Victoria moved into the mansion.
Dominic reached for his phone, then stopped.
Instead, he asked Michael to arrange for Julia to meet them in person.
He wanted the original documents examined properly.
That evening, Victoria found me in the upstairs linen room.
She looked exhausted.
Her carefully styled hair had begun coming loose.
“Anna, I need you to understand something.”
I continued folding towels.
“About what, Miss Whitmore?”
“About Ethan.”
I looked at her.
She sat on a nearby bench.
“When I met Dominic, he told me he wanted to be happy again.”
I waited.
“He said the house had felt empty for years.”
“Ethan was here.”
Victoria looked away.
“I know.”
She rubbed her forehead.
“But every room belonged to Caroline. Every conversation eventually returned to Caroline. Even the dog was untouchable because Caroline had loved him.”
I looked at her carefully.
“You knew Dominic was a widower.”
“Knowing and living with it are different things.”
Her voice cracked.
“I thought if I could help Ethan become more independent, Dominic and I could finally build something of our own.”
“By sending Ethan away?”
“I made mistakes.”
“You frightened him.”
She closed her eyes.
“I never wanted him frightened.”
I remembered the speech.
The pet carrier.
The threat against Buddy.
“Then you should have stopped when he cried.”
Victoria looked at me.
For once, she didn't have an answer.
Before leaving, she said, “Andrew has been under terrible financial pressure.”
“That doesn't explain what you did.”
“No,” she whispered. “It doesn't.”
The next morning, Julia Sullivan arrived.
She was fifty-two, silver-haired, and wearing a plain navy coat.
She carried an old leather briefcase.
Dominic met her in the study.
I was bringing coffee when I heard her voice.
“Show me the agreement.”
Michael placed the pages before her.
Julia examined the signature.
Then she looked at Dominic.
“This is mine.”
He stared.
“You signed it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Julia opened her briefcase.
“Because four years ago, Caroline asked me to consider that access route.”
Dominic looked stunned.
Julia removed an old photograph.
Caroline stood outside the cottage holding Ethan, who was barely six.
Buddy sat beside them.
Behind the photograph was a folded survey.
Julia spread it across the desk.
“Your wife was worried about the upkeep of the property. She considered allowing limited access in exchange for money to maintain Ethan's trust.”
Dominic sat down.
I could see the memory of Caroline shifting inside him.
Julia touched the old survey.
“But that's not the part you need to understand.”
She turned it over.
On the back, in Caroline's handwriting, were five words.
I CHANGED MY MIND. NO ROAD.
Julia looked directly at Dominic.
“Caroline withdrew her approval two weeks before she died.”
Then she opened another envelope.
“And someone has been using the agreement she rejected to make it look as though she wanted this development.”
Dominic reached for the envelope.
Inside was a newer copy of the original survey.
And across the bottom was a date.
Three weeks earlier.
The signature looked like Julia's.
May you like
But beside it was a second authorization.
It carried Caroline Moretti's name—four years after her funeral.
