Chapter 5 - The Nanny in the Photograph

The photograph had been taken three weeks earlier.

Clara stood outside a pharmacy in Lincoln Park, one hand holding a paper bag and the other pushing Emma’s stroller.

A red circle had been drawn around her face.

On the back, someone had written one sentence.

SHE SEES TOO MUCH.

Detective Monroe placed the photograph inside an evidence sleeve.

“Do you recognize the handwriting?”

Clara shook her head.

Adrian stared at the words.

“Vanessa?”

“No,” Vanessa said immediately from across the room. “I have never seen it.”

Monroe looked at her.

“You will have a chance to repeat that in an interview.”

Vanessa’s attorney nodded.

Adrian said, “Clara and the girls stay here.”

Detective Monroe looked at him.

“Your house security was compromised.”

“Then we move them to the city residence.”

“That location is known to your staff.”

“A hotel?”

“Too public.”

Clara spoke.

“I have an apartment.”

Adrian turned.

“No.”

She stared at him.

“You are doing it again.”

He stopped.

“I am sorry.”

“Thank you.”

He took a breath.

“I believe your apartment may be unsafe because whoever took that photograph already knows your routines. I would prefer a location connected to neither of us.”

Clara nodded slowly.

“That is different.”

Olivia looked between them.

“This is the strangest communication lesson I have ever attended.”

Detective Monroe almost smiled.

“I have a secure residence used for protected witnesses while we assess immediate threats.”

Adrian shook his head.

“No police safe house for my daughters.”

Monroe raised an eyebrow.

“Mr. Vale, this is not a negotiation about interior design.”

Olivia whispered to Clara, “I like her.”

“So do I.”

Adrian heard them.

He rubbed his forehead.

“Fine.”

They left the estate after midnight.

Vanessa went separately with her attorney for formal questioning.

Adrian, Clara, Olivia, Emma, and Marcus were driven in unmarked vehicles to a quiet townhouse owned by the city through a legal trust.

The place had plain furniture, thick curtains, and no family photographs.

Olivia looked around.

“This is depressing.”

“It is temporary,” Monroe said.

“Everything terrible is temporary when adults don’t know how long it lasts.”

Adrian looked at his daughter.

“Liv.”

“What?”

“You are allowed to be scared.”

She blinked.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Her eyes filled.

Then she crossed the room and hugged him.

Adrian closed his arms around her.

Clara turned away to give them privacy.

Emma fussed in her arms.

Adrian looked over Olivia’s shoulder.

“Can I hold her?”

Clara nodded.

He took the baby carefully.

For the first time since the foyer, he looked like a father instead of a man trying to command a disaster into obedience.

Detective Monroe spread documents across the dining table.

“We need a timeline.”

Marcus sat across from her.

“Daniel Frost worked for me for eleven years.”

“You trusted him.”

“Completely.”

“That is a theme tonight.”

Adrian gave her a tired look.

Monroe continued.

“Mr. Frost disabled the security system. He likely removed the envelope from Vanessa’s drop point. His vehicle was abandoned. We do not know whether he is running, hiding, or being hidden.”

Clara sat beside Olivia.

“What does the photograph of me mean?”

“Possibly that Frost was watching you. Possibly that someone else was.”

“Why?”

“Vanessa says Malcolm considered you a threat.”

“I am a nanny.”

Monroe looked at her.

“You are a nanny who found Grace’s box, noticed medication in a diaper bag, questioned a stroller brake, and refused to repeat things you did not know as facts.”

Clara frowned.

“That is just being careful.”

“Careful people are very inconvenient to conspiracies.”

Adrian looked down at Emma.

“I hired Clara four years ago.”

Monroe turned.

“Before Emma was born?”

“For Olivia.”

Olivia groaned.

“I was twelve. I did not need a nanny.”

“You needed someone who could get you to school without losing you.”

“I was never lost.”

“You boarded the wrong train twice.”

“That is statistically irrelevant.”

Clara smiled faintly.

Monroe asked, “Who recommended Ms. Bennett?”

Adrian’s smile vanished.

He looked at Clara.

“My wife’s former nurse.”

Clara sat straighter.

“Eleanor Shaw.”

“Yes.”

Monroe wrote the name.

“Where is she?”

“Retired. Wisconsin, I think.”

Clara frowned.

“She moved back to Illinois last year. She sent me a Christmas card.”

Adrian looked surprised.

“You kept in touch?”

“Occasionally.”

“Did she know Grace well?”

“She cared for her after cancer surgery.”

Monroe looked at Clara.

“Call her.”

“It is almost one in the morning.”

“If Grace left papers six years ago and someone is now willing to endanger a baby over them, I am not worried about etiquette.”

Clara found Eleanor’s number.

The call went to voicemail.

She tried again.

This time someone answered.

“Hello?”

“Eleanor? It’s Clara.”

Silence.

Then a whisper.

“Clara, why are you calling from this number?”

Clara looked at Monroe.

“I’m with Adrian Vale.”

A sharp breath came through the phone.

“Put him on.”

Adrian took the phone.

“Eleanor?”

“Mr. Vale.”

“Please call me Adrian.”

“Not tonight.”

Everyone heard the fear in her voice.

Adrian stood.

“What is wrong?”

“Did you find Grace’s box?”

The room froze.

Adrian looked at Clara.

“Yes.”

Eleanor began crying.

“Oh, thank God.”

“How did you know about it?”

“Grace gave it to me before she died.”

“What?”

“She told me to hide it until Olivia was older.”

“Then why was it in my house?”

“Because I put it there three months ago.”

Adrian stared at the phone.

“Why?”

“Because someone started following me.”

Monroe gestured for speakerphone.

Adrian activated it.

Detective Monroe leaned closer.

“Ms. Shaw, this is Detective Rachel Monroe. Are you in a safe place?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where are you?”

Eleanor gave an address in Evanston.

Monroe wrote it down and immediately texted another officer.

Adrian asked, “Why did Grace give you the box?”

“Because she did not trust Malcolm.”

“We read that.”

“She did not trust him with the second trust amendment either.”

Olivia leaned forward.

“The codicil?”

Eleanor hesitated.

“Yes.”

“Did you put it in Emma’s stroller?” Clara asked.

“No.”

“Then who did?”

“I don’t know.”

Clara frowned.

“When were you last at the estate?”

“Three months ago, when I hid the box.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No.”

“Then how did Vanessa know where it was?”

Eleanor was silent.

Adrian asked, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I made a mistake.”

“What mistake?”

“I called Malcolm.”

Olivia whispered, “Why?”

“Because I wanted to know whether he had honored Grace’s instructions.”

Adrian’s voice hardened.

“When?”

“Four months ago.”

“What did he say?”

“That Grace had been confused near the end of her life. That the amendment was never valid.”

“Was it?”

“Yes.”

“Who was the replacement trustee?”

Eleanor’s breathing became audible.

“Me.”

Everyone stared at the phone.

Clara whispered, “You?”

“Yes.”

Adrian sat down slowly.

“Grace replaced Malcolm with her nurse.”

“She said I was the only person around her who had nothing to gain.”

Olivia wiped her eyes.

“That sounds like Mom.”

Eleanor continued.

“The original amendment was supposed to be filed with the trust administrator after Grace died. I gave it to Malcolm because he was still her attorney.”

Adrian closed his eyes.

“And he buried it.”

“Yes.”

“Then how could an original be in an envelope now?”

“Because Grace signed two originals.”

Clara looked up.

“One for the attorney and one for Eleanor.”

“Yes,” Eleanor said.

“Where was yours?”

“In the box.”

Clara’s pulse quickened.

“I never saw a sealed blue envelope when I found the box.”

“Because I hid it separately.”

“Where?”

“In the lining of the old bassinet Grace used for Olivia.”

Olivia frowned.

“We don’t have that bassinet.”

“Yes, you do,” Clara said.

She looked at Adrian.

“Emma’s stroller has a removable carrycot. The storage lining came from the restored bassinet set your mother sent from Lake Geneva.”

Adrian stared.

“So the envelope was hidden in Emma’s stroller before Vanessa ever saw it.”

Eleanor whispered, “I thought no one would check there.”

Clara said, “Vanessa must have found it by accident.”

“No,” Vanessa’s voice was not there; she was gone. But her earlier confession returned to them.

Malcolm had told her to look.

Monroe asked, “Ms. Shaw, did Malcolm know the second original existed?”

“I never told him.”

“Grace could have.”

“No. She was afraid he would destroy it.”

“Then someone else knew.”

Eleanor was quiet.

Finally she said, “Daniel Frost.”

Marcus stood so fast his chair struck the wall.

“What?”

Eleanor began crying again.

“He drove Grace to my house the week before she died.”

Marcus stared.

“He was assigned to Adrian’s security team then.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

“Because Grace asked me not to.”

Adrian’s face went cold.

“Daniel knew Grace was hiding evidence.”

“Yes.”

“And six years later he is working with Malcolm.”

“I think he always was.”

Monroe stood.

“Ms. Shaw, officers are on the way. Do not open the door for anyone until they identify themselves.”

A sound came through the phone.

Eleanor stopped breathing.

Clara whispered, “What was that?”

“Someone is outside.”

Monroe’s voice sharpened.

“Go to an interior room and lock the door.”

Another sound.

A knock.

Then a man’s voice through the phone.

“Eleanor? It’s Daniel.”

Marcus went white.

Eleanor whispered, “Oh, God.”

Monroe spoke firmly.

“Do not answer him.”

The knocking came again.

“Eleanor, I only want to talk.”

Clara held Olivia’s hand.

Adrian stared at the phone.

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Then Daniel Frost said something that silenced everyone.

“You have Grace’s recording, and Malcolm knows it.”