Chapter 6: The Secret Theodora Buried
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The anonymous message remained illuminated on my phone.
Do not trust Theodora Lascelles. Ask her what happened to your mother on the night she died.
I looked at the woman who had wrapped me in a blanket, brought me somewhere safe, and stood between me and the husband who had left me bleeding in the rain.
She sat beside the open safe, one hand resting on the leather folder, her dark glasses hiding her eyes.
“Is it true?”” I asked.
Theodora's fingers tightened against the folder.
“Which part?””
“Whatever happened to my mother.””
She lowered her chin.
“Sit down, Evelyn.””
“I've been sitting down while other people decide which parts of my life I'm allowed to know. I'm done with that.””
My voice shook, but I didn't retreat.
“Who was my mother to you? Why were you at the hospital when I was born? Why did my father leave those shares in your care? And why does a stranger think you had something to do with her death?””
Theodora removed her glasses.
Her eyes were pale and unfocused, but I could see the strain around them.
“Your mother was Catherine Lascelles.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“Her full name was Catherine Lascelles Hale. She was my only child.””
The room seemed to grow very quiet.
I glanced at the photograph in my hand, at my father holding a newborn while Theodora stood beside him.
Then I looked back at the woman who had introduced herself as my grandmother's friend.
“You're my grandmother.””
“Yes.””
“You let me call you Mrs. Lascelles.””
“I did.””
“You told me you were my father's friend.””
“I was his friend.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
Theodora lowered her face.
“No. It isn't.””
A laugh escaped me, sharp and disbelieving.
“All this time, you knew who I was. You knew my mother. You knew my father. You knew what happened to my trust, and you sat beside me at that bus stop pretending to be a stranger.””
“I never pretended not to recognize your name.””
“You let me believe you were a woman who happened to feel sorry for me!””
“Because if I had approached you as your grandmother three months ago, Rhodes would have discovered our relationship before I had enough evidence to protect you.””
“Protect me from what?””
“From precisely what happened last night.””
I stared at her.
Theodora reached for her glasses, then seemed to change her mind.
“I had been monitoring Rhodes's company for months. I knew he was moving money through shell companies. I knew someone was attempting to obtain the shares your father placed in trust for you. What I didn't know was whether he had discovered the connection between you and me.””
“So you waited at that bus stop.””
“Yes.””
“You knew he'd leave me there?””
“No. I knew he might do something reckless if he believed you had become a threat. My security team followed his vehicle after he left the city. When they reported that he had abandoned you, I went to the road myself.””
“You went alone?””
“My driver was instructed to remain out of sight until I needed him.””
I remembered the perfectly placed handkerchief, the way Martin had arrived within minutes, and the medical kit waiting in the car.
“You planned the whole thing.””
“I planned to reach you before Rhodes did anything worse.””
She paused.
“But I did not expect him to strike you.””
Something in her voice softened, and for the first time I heard the grandmother beneath the billionaire.
I looked away before my eyes filled.
“Then tell me about my mother.””
Theodora folded her hands.
“Catherine was twenty-nine when she died. She was intelligent, stubborn, and incapable of walking past an injustice without asking who had permitted it.””
“That sounds familiar.””
“She got it from her father.””
A faint smile crossed her face, then disappeared.
“Twenty years ago, Catherine discovered that several people inside my company were manipulating trust accounts and diverting money into private holdings. Lawrence Cole was the firm's junior legal counsel at the time. He helped draft some of the documents.””
My stomach tightened.
“Lawrence Cole. Rhodes's lawyer.””
“The same man.””
“You knew he was involved in fraud twenty years ago?””
“I suspected it. Catherine believed she could prove it. Your father was supposed to meet her the night she died. She had copies of documents she intended to deliver to him.””
“Why didn't she go straight to the police?””
“She believed someone inside the investigation had already been compromised. She wanted Samuel to verify the financial records first.””
I remembered the letter in the archive.
My father had written that he would not let his daughter's future be used to pay for the greed of men who thought they could buy their way out of every consequence.
“Did she ever deliver those documents?””
Theodora shook her head.
“Catherine left my house during a storm. We had argued. I wanted her to wait until morning. She believed every hour mattered.””
Her voice faltered.
“She took her car and drove toward Samuel's office. She never arrived.””
I sat down slowly.
“The accident.””
“Yes.””
For years, I had remembered the night in fragments: my father standing in the kitchen with a telephone pressed to his ear, a police officer at the front door, a neighbor bringing me a glass of water that I couldn't swallow.
My mother had been declared dead before midnight.
I had been told her car had left a wet road and crashed through a barrier.
I had never been given a reason to doubt it.
Until now.
“What did the police find?””
“An accident consistent with dangerous weather conditions. The original investigation concluded that Catherine had lost control of the car.””
“And you believed them?””
“I wanted to believe them.””
“That isn't an answer.””
“No,” she whispered.
“It isn't.””
Theodora reached into the safe and removed another folder.
“Two days after the funeral, I received an anonymous envelope. It contained a photograph of Catherine's car on a recovery truck. Beneath the photograph was a handwritten note claiming that her brakes had been tampered with.””
I felt cold.
“Did you tell the police?””
“I sent the photograph to the investigator. He told me there was insufficient evidence to establish sabotage. The mechanic's report showed no confirmed failure in the braking system.””
“Then what happened?””
“The investigator was replaced. The case was closed. Lawrence Cole advised me not to pursue it publicly, claiming that an accusation without proof would damage the company and frighten our investors.””
“You listened to him?””
“I hired a private investigator to continue the inquiry. I did not publicize my suspicions because I feared the person responsible might turn his attention toward you.””
“Did you ever find out who did it?””
“No.””
She said it plainly. No excuses. No convenient claim that she had secretly solved everything.
“I failed to protect my daughter,” she continued.
“I have spent twenty years trying to understand why. But I never found evidence strong enough to identify the person who caused the crash.””
I studied her face.
“Why didn't you tell me any of this?””
“Because Catherine's last request to your father was that you grow up without becoming a target in a war you were too young to understand. Samuel honored that request. After he died, I kept honoring it because I believed the danger had passed.””
“And then I married Rhodes.””
“Yes.””
“You knew he was connected to Lawrence Cole.””
“I suspected a connection. Rhodes used Cole's firm for corporate work, but that alone proved nothing. When my investigators found the transfers from your trust, I realized the old financial scheme might never have ended.””
I stood and walked toward the window.
For twenty years, I'd believed my mother had died because of a stretch of wet road.
Now I was learning that she might have been killed because she had found something valuable enough to make powerful people afraid.
I turned back.
“Did Rhodes know who I was?””
“Not when you married him. I believe he learned of the trust's voting rights later. Whether he knew of your connection to Catherine is another question.””
“And Lawrence?””
“He knew.””
The answer settled heavily between us.
My husband's lawyer knew my mother. He knew my grandmother. He knew the agreement protecting my shares.
And now he was helping Rhodes have me declared incapable of controlling my own inheritance.
I picked up the phone again.
“Who sent that message?””
“I don't know,” Theodora said.
“Someone clearly knows more about my mother's death than we do.””
“Perhaps.””
“Could it be Lawrence?””
“It could be someone trying to turn us against each other. Or someone who believes I concealed evidence.””
“Did you?””
Theodora paused.
“I kept the photograph and the original correspondence. I did not put them in the public case file because there was no proof of sabotage. I was afraid that exposing my suspicions would alert the person responsible.””
She reached into the second folder.
“But I did keep one thing the police never received.””
She handed me a thin sheet of paper.
It was a carbon copy of a vehicle inspection report dated the day before my mother's death.
At the bottom, a handwritten notation had been added in blue ink.
*Brake system inspected. Further examination suspended upon instruction of counsel.*
Beside the notation was a signature.
Lawrence Cole.
Below it was a second signature, belonging to the mechanic who had examined the vehicle.
I read the page twice.
“What does this mean?””
“It means Lawrence intervened in a mechanical investigation before the accident.””
“That's not proof he caused it.””
“No,” Theodora said.
“But it is proof he knew there was a mechanical concern before Catherine's car crashed.””
I looked at the date again.
Then I noticed a small handwritten number beside the mechanic's signature.
A telephone number.
Someone had added it in pencil decades ago.
“Who is this?””
“Peter Doran,” Theodora said.
“He was the mechanic who inspected Catherine's car. He left the garage shortly after the investigation closed.””
“Do you know where he is?””
“My investigator lost contact with him years ago.””
I picked up the phone.
“Then we'll find him.””
Before Theodora could respond, another message appeared on the screen.
This time, there was a name.
*Sloane Pierce.*
The message contained an address and a single sentence.
I know who sent the forged statement in Naomi's name. And I have proof Rhodes is planning to make sure you never reach the hearing.
A second message arrived.
Come alone. If Theodora comes with you, I won't tell you what happened to Catherine.
I looked up.
Theodora had heard the vibration.
“Who is it?””
I hesitated.
Then I told her.
For the first time that morning, she sounded genuinely alarmed.
“Evelyn, whatever you do, do not meet Sloane alone.””
I glanced at the message.
“She says she'll tell me what happened to my mother.””
“And if it's a trap?””
I slipped the phone into my pocket.
“Then I'll make sure she knows I came prepared.””
Theodora reached for my hand.
“Your mother had the same look on her face the night she left this house.””
I met her gaze.
“Then perhaps it's time someone stopped trying to keep me safe by keeping me ignorant.””
May you like
And as I walked out of the archive, I couldn't shake the feeling that Sloane Pierce was about to tell me something far more dangerous than the truth about Rhodes's money.
She was about to tell me why my mother had died.
