Chapter 4 - What Sophie Heard
Daniel did not question Sophie immediately.
That was Rachel’s instruction.
“Do not interrogate a seven-year-old because you are desperate for answers.”
“I’m her father.”
“Exactly.”
So Daniel waited until afternoon.
Sophie sat cross-legged on the rug in Daniel’s library, wearing pajamas and drawing horses.
Her cheek was faintly pink from Victoria’s slap.
Daniel sat on the floor across from her.
For several minutes, he said nothing.
Sophie finally looked up.
“Are you in trouble?”
Daniel’s chest tightened.
“Maybe.”
“Because you hit Victoria?”
“Yes.”
“She hit me first.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you in trouble?”
“Because grown-ups still have rules when they are angry.”
She considered that.
“Did you break one?”
“Yes.”
Sophie lowered her crayon.
“Are you going to jail?”
“No.”
He hoped he was telling the truth.
She nodded.
Daniel pointed to her drawing.
“Who’s that?”
“Mom.”
The horse had wings.
Daniel swallowed.
Sophie’s mother, Emily, had died three years earlier after a sudden cerebral aneurysm.
No conspiracy.
No mystery.
Just a hospital room, a machine going silent, and Sophie asking when Mommy was coming home.
Daniel had married Victoria eighteen months later.
Too quickly, Rachel had warned him.
Daniel had believed Sophie needed stability.
Now he wondered whether he had invited danger into her home.
“Sophie,” he said gently, “did Victoria ever give you anything that made you sleepy?”
She stopped coloring.
Daniel waited.
“Sometimes.”
“What?”
“Tea.”
“What kind?”
“She called it moon tea.”
“How did it make you feel?”
“Heavy.”
“How many times?”
She shrugged.
“Lots when you went to Boston.”
Daniel’s fingers curled against his knee.
“Did she give it to you last night?”
“She tried to give me juice.”
“Why didn’t you drink it?”
Sophie wrinkled her nose.
“It smelled bad.”
“Like what?”
“Medicine.”
Daniel forced himself to remain calm.
“What happened then?”
“She got mad.”
“Did she say anything?”
Sophie hesitated.
“What?”
“She said I was ruining everything.”
Daniel leaned closer.
“Ruining what?”
Sophie looked toward the library door.
“Can Victoria hear us?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Sophie whispered, “Uncle Nathan told her I was supposed to be upstairs before the noisy part.”
Daniel’s blood went cold.
“When did he say that?”
“In the wine room.”
“The wine cellar?”
She nodded.
“Were you there?”
“I was hiding.”
“Why?”
“Victoria took Mommy’s box.”
Daniel stared.
“What box?”
“The silver music box.”
Emily’s music box.
It had sat in Sophie’s bedroom since her mother died.
Inside were handwritten birthday cards Emily had prepared in advance during a brief period when doctors incorrectly believed her aneurysm was part of a larger vascular disorder.
Daniel had forgotten the box had a locking compartment beneath the velvet base.
“What did Victoria do with it?”
“She took it downstairs.”
“When?”
“Last Tuesday.”
“What happened in the wine cellar?”
Sophie began coloring again, pressing too hard.
“Victoria said she couldn’t find the paper.”
“What paper?”
“I don’t know.”
“And Nathan?”
“He said, ‘Emily hid everything because Emily never trusted me.’”
Daniel’s heartbeat slowed.
Emily had distrusted Nathan?
She had never told him that.
Or maybe she had tried.
He remembered arguments from years earlier.
Emily asking why Nathan had access to vendor payments.
Daniel telling her Nathan was family.
Emily saying, Family is not an accounting control.
At the time Daniel had laughed.
The memory hurt now.
“What else did they say?”
Sophie whispered, “Uncle Nathan said you were going to find the Raven.”
Daniel frowned.
“The raven?”
“That’s what he said.”
Rachel, who had been standing silently in the doorway, suddenly straightened.
Daniel looked at her.
She already had her phone out.
“Ravenscroft.”
Daniel understood.
Ravenscroft Consulting was the largest of the suspicious vendors.
He rose.
“Sophie, can I see Mommy’s music box?”
They went upstairs.
The box sat on Sophie’s dresser.
Silver.
Oval.
Tiny blue stones around the lid.
Daniel opened it.
The music mechanism played the first notes of “Clair de Lune.”
He lifted the velvet tray.
The hidden compartment was empty.
Except for one yellowed envelope wedged along the side.
Daniel pulled it out.
His name was written across the front.
DANIEL.
Emily’s handwriting.
His hands shook.
Rachel said, “Maybe you should sit down.”
Daniel opened it.
Inside was a single folded page dated four years earlier.
Daniel,
I hope I’m wrong. Nathan has been authorizing invoices for a vendor called Raven Ridge Development without telling you. I found three signatures that look like yours, but I don’t believe they are. I confronted him. He told me I should stop looking into things that don’t concern me.
This concerns me because it concerns Sophie.
Please do not protect him just because he is your brother.
If something happens to me unexpectedly, call Martin Hayes. He has copies.
Love,
Emily
Daniel read it twice.
Then a third time.
Rachel asked, “Who is Martin Hayes?”
Daniel looked up.
“Emily’s estate attorney.”
He had not spoken to Martin since the funeral.
Rachel was already searching her contacts.
Daniel’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Mr. Ashford?”
“Yes.”
“This is Dr. Samuel Klein at Westchester Toxicology.”
Daniel stood perfectly still.
“We completed the expedited screen your attorney requested on the orange-stained napkin.”
Rachel moved closer.
Daniel asked, “What did you find?”
The doctor answered carefully.
“The sample contained orange juice.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“And?”
“And a significant concentration of liquid doxylamine.”
Daniel knew the name vaguely.
“A sleep medication?”
“Yes.”
“For a seven-year-old?”
A pause.
“Not in that concentration.”
Daniel looked at Sophie across the room.
She was turning the music box handle.
The melody played softly.
Daniel suddenly understood why Victoria had wanted Sophie upstairs before “the noisy part.”
The drink had never been kindness.
May you like
It was supposed to make sure Sophie slept through whatever came next.
And when she refused to drink it, Victoria had changed the plan.
