Chapter 8 - The Woman Who Knew Where the Bodies Were Buried|
Rosalind had spent twenty-seven years protecting her family from Callum's world.
Now she was beginning to realize how little she'd known about the dangers closest to home.
She sat in Margaret Shaw's office holding a photograph of her father.
Edward Whitmore.
A gentle man with gray hair and warm eyes.
He had taught Rosalind to drive.
Taught her to balance a checkbook.
Taught her that money meant nothing if it cost you your integrity.
He died when she was twenty-six.
A sudden heart attack.
Or so she'd always believed.
Now Victor Kane was claiming otherwise.
Margaret looked at her carefully.
"Rosalind, you don't have to meet him."
"I know."
"He's dangerous."
"I know."
"Then why are you considering it?"
Rosalind stared at the photograph.
"Because my father deserves the truth."
Margaret sighed.
"Then let us arrange this through legal channels."
Rosalind nodded.
She wasn't going to walk into a trap.
She wasn't going to let grief make her reckless.
And she wasn't going to let Callum decide what she could handle.
The meeting took place two days later.
A neutral office.
Security.
Attorneys.
No weapons permitted.
Victor Kane arrived wearing a dark blue suit.
He was older than Rosalind remembered.
Silver-haired.
Thin.
A scar crossed his left cheek.
But his eyes were the same.
Cold.
Calculating.
He smiled when he saw her.
"Rosalind."
She didn't return the smile.
"Victor."
He sat across from her.
"You look well."
"Let's skip the pleasantries."
Victor laughed softly.
"Still direct."
Rosalind folded her hands.
"You claim to know something about my father's death."
Victor nodded.
"I do."
"Then tell me."
He opened a folder.
Inside were hospital records.
Bank statements.
Photographs.
Rosalind stared.
"What is this?"
"Your father's final medical records."
She felt cold.
"How did you get them?"
Victor smiled.
"Money opens doors."
Margaret immediately intervened.
"We'll need to verify the authenticity and lawful source of these documents."
Victor shrugged.
"Of course."
Rosalind looked at the papers.
"What do they say?"
Victor leaned forward.
"Your father was taking medication for a heart condition."
"I know."
"But someone may have interfered with his treatment."
Rosalind's stomach tightened.
"What?"
Victor pointed to a discrepancy.
"His prescription records changed shortly before his death."
Margaret frowned.
"That could have several explanations."
Victor nodded.
"Of course."
Rosalind looked directly at him.
"Are you accusing someone of killing my father?"
Victor hesitated.
"I'm saying his death deserves another investigation."
Rosalind stared.
Then she asked:
"Who benefited?"
Victor smiled.
"Now that's the right question."
He slid another document toward her.
A transfer agreement.
Dated two days after Edward Whitmore died.
Rosalind recognized the signature.
Callum Voss.
Her husband.
Her chest tightened.
"What is this?"
Victor leaned back.
"An agreement transferring control of certain business assets."
Rosalind looked at Margaret.
Her attorney examined the document.
Then frowned.
"The signature requires verification."
Rosalind looked back at Victor.
"Did Callum sign this?"
Victor smiled.
"Ask him."
Her stomach turned.
For decades, she had believed Callum helped protect her father's business after his death.
Now she was seeing a document that could suggest something very different.
She took a breath.
"Victor, what do you want?"
His smile disappeared.
"The property that was promised to me."
Rosalind stared.
"So this is about money."
"It's about an agreement."
She looked down.
Then back up.
"My father is dead. My marriage is ending. And you're sitting here trying to use both things to negotiate property."
Victor's expression hardened.
"Careful."
Rosalind leaned forward.
"No."
Her voice was steady.
"You don't get to threaten me with grief."
Silence filled the room.
Victor stared.
For the first time, he looked uncertain.
Rosalind continued.
"If you have evidence of wrongdoing, give it to the appropriate authorities."
"And if I don't?"
"Then you have nothing to offer me."
Victor laughed bitterly.
"You're more like your father than I remembered."
Rosalind stood.
The meeting was over.
But before she reached the door, Victor spoke again.
"Rosalind."
She stopped.
"There's one more thing."
She turned.
"What?"
Victor looked toward Margaret.
Then said:
"Sloane Mercer didn't enter your husband's life by accident."
Rosalind went still.
"I know."
Victor smiled faintly.
"But you don't know who sent her."
Rosalind stared.
"Who?"
Victor looked directly into her eyes.
May you like
Then whispered:
"Someone inside your own family."
