Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Rearview Mirror
Grace sat at Daniel’s kitchen table until dawn.
For six years she had carried the same memory.
Two weeks before Caroline died, she had found Caroline sitting in the garage with both hands locked around the steering wheel.
“She was crying,” Grace said.
“Caroline almost never cried in front of staff.”
“She told me someone had been inside her car.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“What did they do?”
“She didn’t know. Nothing looked stolen.”
“Why did Bianca say Caroline fired you?”
“Because she did.”
Daniel stared.
Grace swallowed.
“She told me to leave the house and take a paid vacation.”
“That isn’t firing.”
“She wanted people to believe it was.”
“Why?”
“She said if someone was watching her, they might also watch me.”
Daniel remembered Caroline’s final weeks.
She had seemed distracted.
Secretive.
They had fought over money, touring, Lily, and Daniel’s endless hours at Hale Soundworks.
He had interpreted her fear as distance.
“What did she think someone wanted?”
“She wouldn’t say.”
“Did she mention the Reed trust?”
“No.”
“Julian?”
Grace’s expression changed slightly.
“Yes.”
Daniel noticed.
“What?”
“She said her brother was angry.”
“About what?”
“A document.”
Daniel took out his phone.
“Call him.”
Julian answered on the fourth attempt.
“Daniel?”
“Did Caroline change her trust before she died?”
Silence.
“Who told you that?”
“So she did.”
Julian sighed.
“This is not a phone conversation.”
“Make it one.”
“I’ll come tomorrow.”
“No. Tonight.”
Julian arrived at seven.
He was fifty-three, elegant, controlled, and nothing like Caroline except for the same gray-green eyes.
He saw Grace and stopped.
“You’re still here.”
Grace stared back.
“Unlike some people.”
Daniel closed the study doors.
“Talk.”
Julian removed his coat.
“Caroline changed her estate plan eleven days before the crash.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“You told me her Reed shares reverted to the family.”
“Most economic rights did.”
“Most?”
“Caroline placed twenty-two percent of Reed Media voting stock into an irrevocable trust for Lily.”
Daniel stood.
“Twenty-two percent?”
“Yes.”
“That’s worth what?”
“At current valuation? Approximately sixty-four million.”
Daniel went silent.
He had spent six years believing Lily’s inheritance from her mother consisted mostly of personal property and a modest trust.
“Why didn’t I know?”
“Caroline didn’t trust you with control.”
The words hit hard.
Julian continued.
“She believed Hale Soundworks was overleveraged.”
“It was.”
“She feared you’d use Lily’s trust as collateral.”
“I would never—”
“You pledged your own house twice.”
Daniel stopped.
Julian was right.
Early in Hale Soundworks’ expansion, Daniel had risked almost everything.
“Who controls Lily’s Reed shares?”
“An independent trustee until she turns twenty-one.”
“Name.”
“Harold Mercer.”
Daniel frowned.
He knew that name.
Bianca had once worked for Mercer Private Wealth.
“When did she work there?”
Julian’s eyes sharpened.
“Who?”
“Bianca.”
Daniel took out his phone and searched old biographies.
Bianca Vale had served as senior client strategist at Mercer Private Wealth for five years.
During the same period Caroline created Lily’s trust.
Julian whispered, “You married her?”
“You knew?”
“I knew Bianca worked there. I didn’t know she was your Bianca.”
“You attended our wedding.”
“She used Vale. At Mercer she went by Bianca Cross.”
Cross.
The law firm Daniel had just heard about was Whitmore & Cross.
Daniel felt his stomach turn.
“Was she married?”
Julian nodded.
“To Adrian Cross. Lawyer.”
Daniel remembered the male voice from Studio A.
“And you never told me?”
“I didn’t make the connection.”
Grace scoffed.
“You never wanted to.”
Julian bristled.
Daniel raised a hand.
“What did Caroline know?”
Julian’s face changed.
“She discovered someone at Mercer had accessed her trust drafts without authorization.”
“Bianca?”
“We never proved it.”
“She died eleven days later.”
Julian said nothing.
Daniel felt rage rising.
“Why didn’t you tell police?”
“I did.”
“Then why was the crash ruled accidental?”
“Because police found no mechanical tampering.”
Grace whispered, “They didn’t know what I saw.”
Daniel turned.
“What did you see?”
Grace clasped her hands.
“The morning Caroline died, I went back to the house because I forgot my passport.”
She looked ashamed.
“I saw a woman leaving the garage.”
“Who?”
“I only saw her from behind.”
“Could it have been Bianca?”
“I didn’t know Bianca then.”
Daniel pulled up a wedding photograph on his phone.
Grace stared at it.
Her breathing changed.
“That coat.”
“What?”
“She wore that same white coat.”
Bianca’s favorite winter coat.
Daniel felt his chest tighten.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
He forced himself to listen.
Grace continued.
“But there was something else.”
“What?”
“The woman was talking on the phone.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“One sentence.”
Daniel waited.
Grace whispered:
“She said, ‘He’ll believe she was upset.’”
Daniel sat back.
At that exact moment Eric called.
“We isolated the male voice from Studio A.”
“Who is it?”
“I ran it against public interviews.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Eric said:
“Adrian Cross.”
May you like
Bianca’s former husband.
And the attorney whose firm drafted Lily’s new guardianship documents.
