Chapter 4 - The Woman Upstairs
Conrad entered Hayes Manor through the terrace doors.
The house smelled the same.
Lemon polish.
Old wood.
Fresh flowers.
Money.
He moved through the drawing room and into the foyer.
A shard of glass lay near the staircase.
Another rested three steps higher.
The sound had come from above.
“Hello?”
No answer.
He climbed.
Behind him, the front door opened.
Nathan entered with Elliot.
“I told you to stay outside.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Police are on the way. Elliot refused to let you out of sight.”
Conrad did not argue.
He pointed toward the library.
“Stay there.”
This time Elliot obeyed.
Conrad continued upstairs.
The west corridor contained old guest rooms.
Most doors were open.
One was closed.
Caroline’s room.
Not technically hers.
When she and Conrad had lived at the manor, their bedroom had been on the east side.
But after arguments, Caroline sometimes slept in this smaller guest room because it overlooked the greenhouse.
Conrad had not opened the door since moving out.
He reached for the knob.
Locked.
A shadow moved beneath the door.
“Who’s in there?”
Silence.
Then a woman’s voice.
“Conrad?”
His heart stopped.
The voice was not Caroline’s.
But for one insane fraction of a second, grief made him believe it could be.
“Who are you?”
The lock clicked.
The door opened three inches.
A woman in her late fifties stared through the gap.
Conrad recognized her.
“Elaine?”
Elaine Porter.
Caroline’s former therapist.
Conrad had met her twice during the terrible final months at Hayes Manor.
Agatha had despised her.
Julian had called her a professional manipulator.
Caroline had trusted her completely.
“What are you doing here?”
Elaine opened the door.
“I came because Nathan called me.”
Conrad looked over his shoulder.
Nathan stood at the staircase.
“You called her?”
“Yesterday.”
“Why?”
Nathan came upstairs.
“Because Agatha summoned everyone for this trust announcement, and I was afraid she was about to erase the last protection Caroline created.”
Conrad stared between them.
“What protection?”
Elaine closed the bedroom door.
“Caroline knew she was in danger.”
The words struck harder than Julian’s insult.
“From whom?”
“We never knew for certain.”
“No. You tell me everything now.”
Elaine nodded.
“Caroline came to me three weeks before her death. She said she had found fraudulent transfers involving Hayes Development.”
“I know that part.”
“It was more than money.”
Conrad waited.
“She also believed someone had been following her.”
“Who?”
“She didn’t know.”
“She never told me.”
“She was trying to protect you.”
Conrad laughed once, painfully.
“That worked out well.”
Elaine’s eyes filled with sympathy.
“She intended to tell you.”
“When?”
“The night she died.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Conrad remembered that night.
Caroline had called him at 8:17 p.m.
He had been in Chicago presenting a design proposal.
She had left a voicemail.
Call me when you land. I found what I needed. We’re leaving for good.
Conrad had heard it after midnight.
By then she was dead.
“What protection did she create?”
Nathan removed a folded document from his jacket.
“A contingency letter.”
Conrad snatched it.
The handwriting was Caroline’s.
If anything happens to me before I can deliver the evidence personally, ownership and access instructions for the evidence will transfer to Conrad on one condition.
Conrad read the next line.
My son must never be left alone at Hayes Manor.
His throat closed.
At the time, Elliot had been four.
“Why didn’t you give me this?”
Nathan’s face filled with shame.
“Because Agatha convinced me Caroline was experiencing paranoid episodes.”
Elaine’s eyes flashed.
“She was not.”
“I know that now.”
Conrad folded the letter carefully.
“What changed?”
Nathan looked toward the window.
“Six months ago I discovered the statement instructing me to destroy Caroline’s evidence was not signed on the date written on the page.”
“How?”
“The notary named on it had been hospitalized in Boston that entire week.”
Conrad felt cold.
“Forged.”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know.”
Elaine walked toward the fireplace.
“There’s something else.”
She removed an old photograph from her bag.
It showed Caroline outside the greenhouse.
Red coat.
Windblown hair.
Angry expression.
The date printed on the corner was two days before her death.
Beside her stood Julian.
Conrad studied his brother’s face.
“What were they doing?”
“We don’t know,” Elaine said.
“But someone took the picture.”
“Who?”
“Martin Cole.”
The former groundskeeper.
Conrad looked up.
“Where is Martin?”
Nathan answered.
“Missing.”
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
Conrad stared at him.
“You’re telling me the man who photographed Caroline arguing with Julian disappeared three days before this party?”
“Yes.”
“And you still came here?”
“I thought being surrounded by guests would be safer.”
A bitter voice came from the doorway.
“You were wrong.”
Agatha stood there.
Julian beside her.
Two private security guards filled the corridor behind them.
Agatha looked at the photograph in Conrad’s hand.
Then at Elaine.
“You should never have come back.”
Elaine did not move.
Agatha turned to the guards.
“Escort Ms. Porter off the property.”
Conrad stepped between them.
“No one touches her.”
Agatha smiled faintly.
“You still think this is about a family argument.”
“What is it about?”
“Survival.”
The distant sound of sirens reached the house.
Agatha’s smile disappeared.
Julian looked toward the windows.
The police were coming.
Then Elliot shouted from downstairs.
“Dad!”
Conrad ran.
He reached the library to find Elliot standing beside an open desk drawer.
May you like
Inside lay Caroline’s missing red coat.
And underneath it was a second brass key.
