Chapter 3
Julian tried to recover.
Badly.
“You're twisting words.”
“No.”
I placed my phone on the table.
“You supplied a name nobody said.”
He looked toward Agatha.
Another mistake.
Agatha crossed her arms.
“Elena is dead. Everyone knows that.”
“Yes.”
“Then stop behaving as though saying her name is evidence of murder.”
Murder.
I hadn't said that either.
This time even Julian turned toward her.
Agatha realized it.
Too late.
Merrick moved in my arms.
I looked down.
His eyes were open.
Watching her.
Children notice tone before meaning.
He knew she was frightened.
I carried him toward Cecily.
“Take him upstairs.”
Merrick clung harder.
“No.”
I lowered my voice.
“You're safe.”
“No, Daddy.”
Agatha scoffed.
“See? This is what you've created.”
I looked at her.
She smiled.
“A boy who thinks saying no ends every conversation.”
Cecily's face hardened.
“He's three.”
Agatha ignored her.
“He's a Bellafonte. Or at least he's supposed to be.”
Merrick's lower lip trembled.
Agatha leaned back.
“Cry louder. Perhaps your dead mother will come push the chair for you.”
I handed Merrick to Cecily before I did something that would end the conversation permanently.
“Upstairs.”
This time he went.
My oldest bodyguard escorted them.
The door closed.
I looked at Agatha.
“You will never say her name to him again.”
She smiled.
“There.”
“What?”
“That weakness.”
I stared.
“You always had it for Elena.”
Julian muttered, “Mom.”
Agatha kept going.
“She made you soft. Then she did the same to the boy.”
My voice dropped.
“How did Elena die?”
For the first time, Agatha's confidence flickered.
“Car accident.”
“Where?”
“You know where.”
“I want you to say it.”
Julian stood.
“Conrad—”
“Sit.”
He didn't.
I looked at my guard.
Julian sat.
Agatha answered.
“Blackwood Road.”
“What time?”
“Around eleven.”
“Who told you?”
She frowned.
“What kind of question is that?”
“Who called you?”
Silence.
My wife's car had gone off Blackwood Road at approximately 11:18 p.m.
Police never mattered in our world.
My own men had reached the wreck first.
I had been told Elena died at the scene.
Merrick survived with injuries that eventually left him needing a wheelchair.
Agatha had been the first family member to arrive at my house afterward.
She had held my face in both hands and told me:
You couldn't have saved her.
At the time, it sounded like comfort.
Now I heard something else.
Knowledge.
“How did you know she was dead before I did?”
Agatha's face changed.
Julian looked down.
There.
I moved closer.
“You called me at 11:26.”
No answer.
“My men didn't confirm Elena's death until 11:41.”
Agatha's eyes narrowed.
“After eighteen months, you suddenly trust minutes?”
“I trust fear.”
She smiled bitterly.
“Then look at yourself.”
I didn't move.
She continued.
“You've built your entire life around a crippled child's fears.”
Julian flinched.
Even he knew she'd gone too far.
I stepped close enough that Agatha had to tilt her head back.
“My son survived a crash that killed his mother.”
“And?”
Her voice stayed cold.
“Survival doesn't make him special.”
“No.”
I looked directly into her eyes.
“It makes what you know about that night important.”
For the first time, she looked away.
I turned toward Julian.
“You were there.”
He laughed too loudly.
“Where?”
“Blackwood Road.”
“No.”
“Then why did you just touch your left wrist?”
He froze.
There was a thin white scar beneath his watch.
I'd seen it a thousand times.
Never asked.
He lowered his hand.
Agatha stood abruptly.
“This interrogation is over.”
“No.”
She turned toward the door.
My guard blocked it.
Agatha stared at him.
“Do you know who I am?”
The guard didn't blink.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Then move.”
“No.”
That was new for her.
People had been moving for Agatha Bellafonte for forty years.
She turned back toward me.
“You're letting servants imprison your blood.”
I smiled slightly.
“No.”
Pause.
“I'm letting loyal men stop traitors from leaving.”
Julian stood.
“You have no proof.”
Before I could answer, the door opened.
Cecily came back alone.
Her face was pale.
“What?”
She looked at Julian.
Then Agatha.
“Merrick remembered something.”
Nobody moved.
Cecily held a small capo pin in her hand.
Bent.
Scratched.
Bellafonte crest.
Julian's.
“He says he found this under his seat after the crash.”
Julian's face emptied.
May you like
Cecily looked at me.
“And he says Uncle Julian was in Mommy's car before it went down the hill.”
