Chapter 3 - THE BLUE BOX IN THE BRIDE'S CLOSET
“Found who?”
Roman's question was almost a whisper.
Vanessa looked at the pocket watch in his hand.
Then she glanced toward the hallway.
“My father told me your mother died years ago.”
“That's not what you just said.”
“I said he would know we'd found her.”
Roman stepped closer.
“Vanessa, where is the box?”
She folded her arms.
“You cannot search my belongings like I'm some criminal.”
Roman glanced at the security director.
“Michael, have the guests escorted to the front ballroom. Tell them there's a private family matter.”
Vanessa grabbed his sleeve.
“If you embarrass me tonight, everything we've built falls apart.”
Roman looked at her hand.
“An innocent maid was humiliated in front of eighty people because you wanted her removed from this house.”
Vanessa released him.
“That was a mistake.”
“No,” I said quietly.
Everyone turned.
My voice shook, but I kept going.
“You opened my handbag. You planted the earring. You threatened my employment. That wasn't a mistake.”
Vanessa's expression hardened.
“You should be grateful Roman didn't fire you.”
Roman answered before I could.
“She doesn't need to be grateful for being treated fairly.”
For the first time that evening, Vanessa looked genuinely frightened.
We went upstairs together.
Roman insisted that Mia remain with Teresa in the sitting room.
His daughter protested.
“But I know where the box is.”
“You've already helped enough,” he told her gently.
Mia nodded reluctantly.
“It's behind the blue shoes.”
Vanessa's dressing room looked like a jewelry boutique.
Silk gowns hung beside tailored coats.
Expensive handbags occupied glass shelves.
A velvet chair stood beneath an enormous mirror.
Roman opened the wardrobe.
Behind a pair of blue heels sat a small lacquered jewelry box.
The name ELEANOR had been scratched into its underside.
Vanessa covered her face.
“I didn't know what was inside when he gave it to me.”
Roman opened the lid.
Inside lay a diamond earring, a hospital identification bracelet, and an old train ticket.
The bracelet carried a woman's name.
ELIZABETH BELLANDI.
Roman picked it up.
His mother's name.
Beneath it was an admission date.
September 18.
Eleven years earlier.
Three days after the highway accident.
Teresa had been telling the truth.
At least about his mother surviving.
Roman studied the train ticket.
It was from Trenton to Philadelphia.
Issued seven months ago.
“Why would someone keep this?”
Vanessa leaned against the dresser.
“Because Eleanor used it when she came to see me.”
Roman turned sharply.
“You met her?”
“Once.”
“Where?”
“At my father's house.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“She was older. Nervous. She kept asking whether Elizabeth had received her letters.”
“What letters?”
“I don't know. My father took her into his office.”
Roman held up the hospital bracelet.
“And this?”
“She gave it to me afterward. She said I should never let my father destroy it.”
“Why didn't you come to me?”
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
“Because everything my family owns is tied to his companies. My father's debts, my mother's care, my entire future.”
Her voice became smaller.
“And because I believed him when he said Eleanor was confused.”
Roman examined the remaining earring.
It wasn't identical to the jewelry Vanessa wore.
The setting was older.
A tiny inscription had been engraved inside.
E.B.
Roman remembered something.
“My mother wore earrings like this.”
Teresa, summoned upstairs, studied the diamond.
“She wore them on her wedding day.”
Roman's eyes lifted.
“And the earring Vanessa planted in Emma's bag?”
Vanessa said nothing.
Teresa answered.
“It was the other one.”
A dreadful silence followed.
The accusation against me had involved jewelry belonging to Roman's mother.
Not Vanessa.
Roman turned toward his fiancée.
“You weren't trying to recover stolen property.”
Vanessa lowered her head.
“You were trying to get rid of the person who heard you threaten my aunt.”
“Yes.”
“Because Teresa knew about the accident?”
“Because she told me she had evidence my father ordered someone to interfere with the Mercedes.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“What evidence?”
Vanessa looked at the watch.
“The mechanic's service record.”
Teresa frowned.
“I never told you about a service record.”
Vanessa froze.
A moment later, Roman understood.
She had revealed knowledge Teresa had never shared.
“Who told you?” he asked.
Vanessa's shoulders sagged.
“My father.”
Then Michael entered carrying an evidence envelope.
“Sir, we recovered the original recording device from the ballroom.”
Roman looked up.
Michael continued.
“The audio wasn't copied from an old family tape. It came from a digital recorder manufactured three years ago.”
Roman stared at Vanessa.
His mother had supposedly died eleven years earlier.
The recording was much newer.
And then Michael delivered the detail that changed everything.
“The device contains a second file, sir.”
May you like
He placed it on the dresser.
“The file is named EMMA DAWSON.”
