Chapter 4 - The Sister in Purple Glasses

Nora Bell answered Alexander’s call with silence.

He knew she had picked up because he could hear traffic behind her.

“Nora?”

Nothing.

“It’s Alexander.”

A short laugh came through the line.

“I know who you are.”

“I need to talk about Evelyn.”

“You needed to do that two years ago.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Alexander gripped the phone.

“My son remembered you.”

The traffic noise stopped.

“What?”

“He has a picture of you and Evelyn. Purple glasses.”

Nora inhaled sharply.

“Where is Ethan?”

“At home.”

“Is Beatrice there?”

“Yes.”

“Get him out.”

Alexander’s entire body tightened.

“Why?”

“Because if he remembers me, she may realize he remembers more.”

“She already knows.”

Nora swore.

Alexander said, “Tell me where you are.”

“No.”

“Nora.”

“I tried you once.”

He frowned.

“When?”

“Three days after Evelyn vanished.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“I never received a call.”

“I called your office. Your mother answered your private line.”

Alexander closed his eyes.

“What did she say?”

“That you knew everything. That Evelyn had left willingly. That if I interfered, you would have me charged with harassment.”

“That doesn’t sound like me.”

“I know that now.”

“Why not then?”

“Because Evelyn had told me for months that you believed your mother before you believed anyone else.”

Alexander had no answer.

Nora continued.

“She was scared, Alexander.”

“Of my mother?”

“Of what your mother could make look normal.”

He leaned against the car.

“Where are you?”

“Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t.”

The answer surprised her into silence.

Alexander went on.

“But Ethan trusted me long enough to break open a book, and Evelyn apparently trusted me enough to tell him to wait until I listened. I am late. I know that. Help me be less late.”

Nora said nothing for several seconds.

Then she gave him an address.

A café outside Bellweather.

“Come alone.”

Vincent protested.

“Absolutely not.”

Alexander was already opening the car door.

“She asked for me alone.”

“That’s what people say before they shoot rich men.”

“She is Evelyn’s sister.”

“That does not prevent bullets.”

Alexander almost smiled.

“Stay across the street.”

Vincent sighed.

“I hate compromise.”

Nora was sitting in the back corner when Alexander entered.

The purple glasses were gone.

Now she wore plain black frames and a gray coat.

She looked older than he remembered, but the resemblance to Evelyn was strong enough to hurt.

She did not stand.

“You look terrible.”

“So do you.”

“Good. We can skip politeness.”

Alexander sat.

Nora’s eyes went to his hand.

He had put Evelyn’s wedding ring on a chain around his neck.

“You found it.”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Inside an antique book in my library.”

Nora stared at him.

“Beatrice.”

“Yes.”

“Ethan found it?”

“He broke the book open.”

Nora pressed both hands over her mouth.

For a moment, anger disappeared and grief replaced it.

“He was supposed to be too young to remember.”

“He remembers enough.”

Alexander told her about the black car, the bird emblem, St. Arden, Eleanor Ward, Kessler, and Benton.

Nora listened without interrupting.

When he finished, she whispered, “Eleanor.”

“You know that name?”

“It was our grandmother’s name.”

Alexander sat back.

“Evelyn’s middle name was Eleanor.”

“No. Evelyn’s middle name was May.”

“Then why use Eleanor Ward?”

Nora’s eyes hardened.

“Because Ward was our mother’s maiden name.”

Alexander felt another piece slide into place.

“It was chosen to look real.”

“Yes.”

“By someone who knew her family history.”

“Beatrice knew all of it.”

“Or Benton.”

“Both.”

The waitress approached.

Neither ordered anything.

Nora waited until she left.

“Evelyn found something six months before she disappeared.”

“What?”

“Missing money.”

Alexander frowned.

“From where?”

“The Whitmore Heritage Foundation.”

“That foundation is audited.”

“By Benton’s firm.”

Alexander went still.

Nora leaned forward.

“Evelyn was helping with the restoration grants because she had studied architectural history. She noticed several properties were receiving funds after the owners had died.”

“How many?”

“She showed me six.”

“Why didn’t she show me?”

“She tried.”

Alexander looked away.

Nora’s voice softened only slightly.

“She said you told her to send it to Benton because you were in Singapore.”

He remembered the trip.

Four days.

A hostile merger.

Evelyn had called twice.

He had told her he trusted Benton.

The memory now felt poisonous.

“What did Benton say?”

“He told her she misunderstood trust accounting.”

“And my mother?”

“Evelyn confronted her later.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she called me from the bathroom.”

Nora’s hand shook as she reached into her bag.

She removed an old phone.

“I kept the voicemail.”

Alexander stared.

“You have her voice?”

“One message.”

“Play it.”

Nora hesitated.

“Alexander.”

“Please.”

She tapped the screen.

Static came first.

Then Evelyn.

Breathless.

Quiet.

“Nora, it’s me. I was right. It’s not just grants. She has jewelry. Rings, mostly. Some from the old estates. I saw names. She says I’m imagining things, but I took photographs. I’m putting copies somewhere she won’t think to look. If I call you tomorrow, we’ll decide what to do. If I don’t—”

The recording paused for a second.

Evelyn’s breath trembled.

“Don’t believe I left Ethan.”

The voicemail ended.

Alexander could not speak.

Nora watched him.

“She sent that eleven days before she disappeared.”

“Why didn’t you go to the police?”

“I did.”

His head snapped up.

“What?”

“They said an adult woman was allowed to leave her marriage. I showed them the message. Your family attorney sent a letter saying Evelyn was under psychiatric care by choice and wanted no contact.”

“Benton.”

“Yes.”

“Did they verify with her?”

“They said medical privacy prevented it.”

Alexander’s voice became rough.

“Why didn’t you keep pushing?”

Nora’s face twisted.

“I did.”

She leaned forward.

“I went to your house. Security turned me away. I went to St. Arden after I found a grant brochure with the bird symbol. They threatened me with trespass. I contacted a reporter. Three days later, the reporter told me his editor killed the story because the evidence was ‘too speculative.’ Then my apartment was broken into.”

Alexander stared.

“Were things stolen?”

“Only one thing.”

“The photographs.”

Nora nodded.

“The copies Evelyn sent me.”

Alexander whispered, “Rings.”

“Rings and ledger pages.”

“What ledger?”

“I don’t know. Evelyn said there were names beside dates and amounts.”

Alexander thought of the thirty-seven bands.

“What did she hide for Ethan?”

Nora looked at him sharply.

“What do you mean?”

“There was a red wooden box in his toy chest. He says Evelyn gave it to him before she left. It held your photograph and a small silver key.”

Nora’s eyes filled with tears.

“She did it.”

“Did what?”

“She told me she was going to rent a safe deposit box under a name Beatrice didn’t know.”

“What name?”

Nora shook her head.

“She never told me.”

“Could the silver key be for it?”

“Yes.”

“The box is missing.”

Nora stood abruptly.

“Then go home.”

Alexander stood too.

“Why?”

“Because Beatrice knows what that key opens.”

They left without coffee.

Across the street, Vincent was already moving toward the car.

Alexander called Elena.

No answer.

He called again.

Nothing.

His pulse accelerated.

“Drive.”

Vincent did not ask.

The Whitmore estate was ninety minutes away.

They made it in sixty-eight.

The front doors were open.

Alexander ran inside.

“Elena!”

No answer.

He took the stairs two at a time.

Ethan’s room was empty.

The toy chest remained open.

A security officer appeared.

“Mr. Whitmore.”

“Where is my son?”

“With Ms. Marlowe in the east garden.”

Alexander stopped breathing long enough to become angry.

“Why wasn’t she answering?”

“She left her phone inside.”

He pushed through the terrace doors.

Elena sat on a bench while Ethan drew with chalk on the paving stones.

Alexander crossed the garden so quickly she stood.

“What happened?”

“You didn’t answer.”

“My phone is charging upstairs.”

He bent and pulled Ethan into his arms.

The boy squeaked.

“Daddy.”

“I know.”

Alexander set him down.

“Did Grandmother come near you?”

“No.”

Elena said, “She hasn’t left her suite.”

Alexander looked toward the house.

“Where is the red box?”

“I don’t know.”

Ethan tugged his sleeve.

“Grandmother took it.”

“When?”

“Today.”

Elena frowned.

“You saw her?”

Ethan nodded.

“When?”

“When you went to the bird place.”

Alexander crouched.

“How did she get into your room?”

“She has a key.”

Elena’s face hardened.

“She told security she was going to the conservatory. I was with Ethan in the schoolroom.”

Alexander stood.

“Vincent.”

Vincent was already beside him.

“Search her suite.”

A voice behind them said, “You will do no such thing.”

Beatrice stood at the terrace entrance.

Her white blouse was immaculate.

Alexander walked toward her.

“Give me the red box.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Ethan saw you take it.”

“He is mistaken.”

“He was not mistaken about the book.”

Her face changed.

Alexander continued.

“Or Evelyn’s ring.”

“Stop.”

“Or St. Arden.”

Beatrice’s eyes narrowed.

“You went there.”

“Yes.”

“You have no idea what you are interfering with.”

“I found Eleanor Ward.”

For the first time, Beatrice looked genuinely afraid.

Alexander saw it.

“You know the name.”

She said nothing.

“Nora knows it too.”

Beatrice’s face went still.

“You found Nora.”

“She kept Evelyn’s voicemail.”

That hit.

Alexander watched his mother absorb it.

“What voicemail?”

“One where my wife says she found rings and ledger pages. One where she says not to believe she left Ethan.”

Beatrice recovered quickly.

“Evelyn was paranoid.”

“Give me the box.”

“No.”

The word came too fast.

Alexander took one step closer.

“So you do have it.”

Beatrice realized her mistake.

Elena drew Ethan behind her.

Vincent said quietly, “Mrs. Whitmore.”

Beatrice looked at him.

“Do not.”

“Where is the box?”

She laughed once.

“You too?”

Vincent’s expression did not change.

“I buried your husband. I helped raise your son. I have covered for this family’s pride more times than I can count. I will not cover for a child being frightened.”

Beatrice’s face hardened.

“You have forgotten your place.”

Vincent looked at Alexander.

“Funny. I heard that once before.”

Alexander held out his hand.

“The box.”

Beatrice stared at him.

Then, unexpectedly, she reached into the pocket of her skirt.

She removed a small silver key.

Ethan gasped.

“That’s Mommy’s.”

Alexander’s heart hammered.

Beatrice held it between two fingers.

“You want this?”

“Yes.”

“You think it will prove I’m a monster?”

“I think it will prove something.”

She placed the key in his palm.

Alexander closed his fingers around it.

“Where is the box?”

“Burned.”

Ethan made a small sound.

Alexander’s voice became deadly calm.

“You burned something my wife left our son?”

“It was wood and paper.”

“It was his.”

“It was dangerous.”

Nora stepped onto the terrace behind Vincent.

Beatrice froze.

Nora looked at her.

“You always did confuse dangerous with inconvenient.”

Beatrice’s face emptied.

“Nora.”

“Hello, Beatrice.”

Ethan stared.

“The purple glasses lady.”

Nora knelt immediately.

“You remember me?”

He nodded.

Nora smiled through tears.

“I remember you too.”

Alexander looked down at the silver key.

Whatever the red box had contained beyond a photograph was gone.

But the key remained.

And now he knew it was important enough for Beatrice to risk stealing from a five-year-old to get it.

He turned to Nora.

“You said safe deposit box.”

“Yes.”

Vincent looked at the key.

“No bank marking.”

Nora frowned.

“Then maybe not a bank.”

Ethan suddenly said, “Mommy said the key was for the little door.”

Alexander looked at him.

“What little door?”

The boy pointed toward the house.

“In her music room.”

Beatrice closed her eyes.

Alexander saw it.

He turned toward the east wing.

Evelyn’s music room had been locked since the week she disappeared.

Beatrice whispered, “Alexander, don’t.”

He looked back at her.

“Why?”

She did not answer.

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That was answer enough.

He walked into the house with the silver key in his hand.