“You said the bracelet was fake,” Daniel whispered again, tightening his grip on Vanessa’s wrist.
She stared at him, suddenly frightened.
Thomas lifted the microphone. “And your father’s name is on the—”
A scream cut through the garden.
Every face turned toward the sound.
What had Thomas found, and why did it make Vanessa look at her father like she’d never seen him before?
The scream came from the service path behind the bandstand.
A young waiter stood beside the overturned gift table, one hand pressed against his mouth. At his feet lay a black leather folder, its papers scattered across the wet stones. A second envelope had fallen open, exposing a bank transfer receipt with Richard Caldwell’s name printed across the top.
Richard moved first.
He crossed the grass with surprising speed, shoved the waiter aside, and bent to gather the papers.
Thomas stepped down from the bandstand.
“Leave them where they are.”
Richard froze.
Rain tapped against the microphone. Somewhere near the house, a glass slipped from someone’s hand and broke.
Daniel released Vanessa’s wrist. She did not move. Her eyes were fixed on the papers Richard held against his chest.
“What is that?” she asked.
Richard’s face had gone gray. “Nothing that concerns you.”
“That is my name.”
She pointed at the receipt.
The waiter, trembling now, looked toward Thomas. “I’m sorry, sir. I was told to take the folder to Mr. Caldwell. It fell when he turned around.”
Thomas descended the last step and picked up the nearest page.
It was a copy of a property transfer agreement.
At the top was the name of the Whitmore estate.
Below it was Margaret’s signature.
Below that, in smaller print, was a clause transferring ownership of the garden house and surrounding acreage to Caldwell Development Holdings.
Thomas heard Margaret inhale behind him.
He turned.
Her hand had tightened around the cane until her knuckles shone white.
Daniel took one step toward the page. “What does that mean?”
Richard thrust out his hand. “Give it to me.”
