Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN IN THE IVORY COAT
“You were at Elena House before the fire,” Nicholas said. “Don't insult me by denying it.”
Vivienne stood in her bedroom, removing diamond earrings before a gilded mirror.
She froze.
Then slowly turned.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
Nicholas placed the tablet on her dressing table.
The footage was paused on the clearest image.
Vivienne.
The ivory coat.
The blue folder.
The Hart Restoration truck.
Her face lost its color.
“Where did you get that?”
“Is that really the first question you want to ask?”
She looked toward the open doorway.
“Close the door.”
“No.”
“Nicholas, please.”
He remained still.
Vivienne sank onto a velvet chair.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she whispered, “I didn't start the fire.”
“Why were you there?”
“My father asked me to meet the site manager.”
“Why?”
“There were problems with the contractor.”
“What problems?”
She rubbed her forehead.
“I was told the building had to be cleared before the city discovered how much maintenance had been postponed.”
Nicholas stared at her.
“People were still living there.”
“I know.”
“And your solution was to make them leave?”
“I didn't know anyone would start a fire!”
Nicholas waited.
Vivienne looked down.
“My father is in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“His company is drowning. Three major projects failed. The lenders want repayment, and hundreds of people could lose their jobs.”
“That's why you sold my mother's housing complex?”
“I didn't sell it. Edmund structured the transaction.”
“But you helped.”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Nicholas felt the answer settle between them.
For weeks, he had wanted to believe Vivienne was merely arrogant and cruel.
Now he was hearing something worse.
She had understood the consequences of her decisions.
And she had continued anyway.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you'd never agree to tear down your mother's building.”
“That's correct.”
“Nicholas, my father built that company from nothing. If it collapses, it destroys everything he's worked for.”
He shook his head.
“Your father wasn't entitled to destroy other families to save his own.”
Vivienne's eyes filled.
“You think I don't know that now?”
Nicholas placed the fraudulent relocation statement beside the tablet.
“Then tell me why you tried to have Lucy taken from her mother.”
Vivienne looked away.
“Maria had information.”
“What information?”
“She was collecting payment records. She recognized names from Elena House, and she knew people hadn't received their money.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Edmund said she was trying to blackmail the foundation.”
Nicholas gave her a hard look.
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
“And afterward?”
Vivienne's silence answered.
Nicholas stepped back.
“You knew she was telling the truth.”
“I knew some of the records were wrong.”
“And you threatened her daughter.”
Vivienne started crying.
“I lost my temper with Lucy. She kept asking for her mother. I grabbed her too hard. I know I was wrong.”
Nicholas remembered four red marks around a tiny wrist.
“Lucy is three.”
“I know.”
“She thinks eating a cookie means she can lose her home.”
Vivienne covered her face.
“Stop.”
“No. You need to hear what you did.”
She looked up, angry now.
“You have no idea what it's like to be responsible for a failing company!”
Nicholas stared at her.
“You're talking to a man who's been responsible for businesses since he was twenty-one.”
“Yes, and you can make problems disappear with one telephone call. The rest of us don't have that luxury.”
“Your father's company needed a rescue. You chose to sacrifice a building full of vulnerable people.”
Vivienne stood.
“I was trying to save my family!”
“So was Maria.”
Those words stopped her.
Nicholas removed the engagement ring from the small dish where he had placed it earlier.
He set it on the dressing table.
“We're finished.”
Vivienne stared.
“You don't mean that.”
“I do.”
“What about our wedding?”
“There won't be one.”
Her face crumpled.
“Nicholas, I love you.”
He studied her.
Maybe she did.
Maybe she'd loved the security of his name more.
Or maybe she had confused protecting someone with excusing whatever they did.
Whatever the answer, one fact remained.
A child had been hurt.
And Vivienne had defended herself instead of protecting her.
“Love doesn't make what you did acceptable,” he said.
Vivienne looked at the ring.
“You can't walk away from this, Nicholas. Edmund has every authorization you signed. If the authorities investigate, your name will be on the paperwork.”
“Then they'll investigate my name, too.”
She looked genuinely frightened.
“You don't understand what Edmund can do.”
Nicholas stopped.
“What does that mean?”
Vivienne shook her head.
“I've said enough.”
“No. You've said just enough to make me realize you're afraid of him.”
She stared at him.
“He has records from years before we were engaged. He knows where every dollar moved. He knows who approved the contractors.”
“Did he order the fire?”
“I don't know.”
Nicholas didn't believe she knew the whole answer.
But he believed she was frightened.
He left the room without another word.
Downstairs, Maria sat beside Lucy's bed, singing softly.
Nicholas stopped at the doorway.
Lucy had fallen asleep holding the drawing she'd made for him.
Maria looked up.
“Did she admit it?”
Nicholas nodded.
“She admitted grabbing Lucy and helping hide the relocation fraud. She denies starting the fire.”
Maria lowered her eyes.
“Are you sending her away?”
“Yes. She'll leave in the morning. She won't be near Lucy again.”
Maria rested a hand on her daughter's blanket.
“Thank you.”
Nicholas hesitated.
“Vivienne and I aren't getting married.”
Maria looked surprised.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.”
She watched him for a moment.
“You loved her.”
“I thought I knew her.”
Maria looked toward the sleeping child.
“Sometimes we love the person we keep hoping someone will become.”
Nicholas felt the truth of that more deeply than he wanted to admit.
Before he could answer, Arthur appeared.
“Mr. Caruso. May I speak with you privately?”
Nicholas followed him into the study.
Arthur was holding an old brown envelope.
The paper was creased, its corners worn.
Nicholas recognized the name written across the front.
Mr. Nicholas Caruso — Personal.
The return address belonged to Rafael Santos.
Nicholas slowly looked at Arthur.
“Where did you get that?”
Arthur's hands trembled.
“Rafael gave it to me nineteen months ago.”
“Before the accident?”
“Yes.”
Nicholas took the envelope.
“Why have I never seen it?”
Arthur lowered his head.
“I was told it had been handled.”
“By whom?”
“Mr. Vale.”
Nicholas felt a surge of anger.
“Arthur, this man died trying to report something. You kept his letter for eighteen months?”
The old butler's eyes filled.
“I made a terrible mistake, sir.”
He explained that Rafael had arrived at the Caruso estate asking to speak with Nicholas.
Vale had intercepted him.
Later, Vale told Arthur the problem involved a disgruntled contractor and that Nicholas had already reviewed the complaint.
Arthur had kept the envelope when Vale instructed him to dispose of it.
“Why didn't you give it to me afterward?”
Arthur stared at the floor.
“Because after Rafael died, I was afraid of what it might prove about my own silence.”
Nicholas looked at the envelope.
His mother had trusted Arthur more than almost anyone.
He had trusted him, too.
Now he didn't know what to feel.
“Why are you giving it to me tonight?”
Arthur wiped his eyes.
“Because I watched Lucy beg not to be thrown out of this house. I helped Maria pack her suitcase. And I realized I've spent too many years obeying people when I should have been protecting them.”
Nicholas carefully opened the envelope.
Inside were two handwritten pages and a small photograph.
The photograph showed construction scaffolding against the rear wall of Elena House.
Rafael stood beside another worker.
A red circle had been drawn around a metal support.
Nicholas unfolded the letter.
The writing was direct and uneven.
Mr. Caruso, I don't know if anyone will let me speak to you. They're charging your mother's foundation for repairs they're not making. When I refused to sign the inspection, they told me my job was finished.
Nicholas continued reading.
I'm not trying to cause trouble. My wife and baby depend on me. But somebody has to tell the truth before a resident gets hurt.
The final paragraph made his blood run cold.
They're removing the temporary supports from Stairwell C before the replacement beams arrive. I've told the supervisor it's dangerous. He said the order came from above.
If something happens to me, please ask why the supports were removed.
Nicholas looked at the photograph again.
The red circle marked the exact location where Rafael had fallen.
He turned to Arthur.
“Rafael didn't die during ordinary repairs.”
Arthur's face crumpled.
Nicholas held up the letter.
May you like
“He knew somebody was making that scaffolding unsafe.”
And for the first time, Nicholas began to suspect that Rafael Santos's death had never been the accident his company reported.
