Chapter 3 - The Necklace
Roman’s study felt less like a room and more like a place where countries might negotiate ceasefires.
Dark wood covered the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked acres of gardens glowing beneath security lights. A fire burned quietly behind Joan, but she still felt cold.
Her necklace lay on Roman’s desk.
Nobody touched it.
Evelyn stood near the fireplace.
“I bought that pendant for Caroline’s 21st birthday.”
Joan shook her head.
“That’s impossible.”
“I chose it myself.”
“It belonged to my mother.”
“What’s your mother’s name?”
“Marianne Rhodes.”
Evelyn’s expression shifted.
Roman noticed.
“You know her.”
Evelyn sat slowly.
“I knew a Marianne.”
Joan’s pulse accelerated.
Evelyn explained that before Caroline married Roman, she had volunteered at a community garden on the South Side. Marianne Rhodes had worked there.
The women became close.
Then Caroline died 4 years earlier.
A car accident.
At least that was what Joan had always heard when Betty’s mother came up in news stories.
“Mom never mentioned Caroline.”
“Maybe she had a reason.”
Roman picked up the pendant and examined the back.
“There should be an engraving.”
Joan frowned.
“What engraving?”
He turned it beneath the lamp.
Three tiny letters appeared.
C.M.R.
Caroline Marie Reed.
Joan’s mouth went dry.
Her mother had told her the necklace belonged to Joan’s grandmother.
It had been a lie.
Roman leaned back.
“The attack. Your apartment. Now this.”
“You think they’re connected?”
“I stopped believing in coincidence a long time ago.”
That evening Joan called her mother from a borrowed phone.
Marianne answered on the second ring.
“Joanie?”
The relief in her voice nearly broke Joan.
“Mom, I need you to tell me about Caroline Seagull.”
Silence.
“Mom?”
“Where are you?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Joan, where are you?”
“At Roman Seagull’s house.”
Marianne inhaled sharply.
“Leave.”
“What?”
“Get out of that house.”
“Why?”
“I can’t explain on the phone.”
“Then come here.”
“I can’t.”
Joan stood.
“Mom, someone attacked a restaurant today. A little girl almost died. Somebody broke into my apartment, and I’m wearing a necklace that belonged to that girl’s dead mother. So whatever secret you’ve been keeping, we’re past the point where you get to say you can’t explain.”
Marianne began crying.
Then she whispered something.
“Caroline didn’t die because of an accident.”
The line went dead.
Joan immediately called back.
Nothing.
Roman was already moving.
“Give me the number.”
Within minutes, his security team was trying to locate Marianne.
Her phone was off.
Her apartment was empty.
Joan’s fear turned to anger.
“You brought this into my life.”
Roman looked at her.
“I didn’t know you existed yesterday.”
“But somebody connected to you apparently did.”
He accepted the accusation without defending himself.
That somehow made it worse.
At midnight, Betty woke screaming.
Joan heard her from the guest suite and ran down the hall before she remembered her fractured ribs.
Betty sat upright in bed.
“Mommy!”
Joan stopped.
Roman entered seconds later.
Betty reached past him.
Toward Joan.
The pain in Roman’s expression was immediate.
Joan sat beside Betty and held her until her breathing slowed.
Then Betty said something strange.
“The garden lady.”
Joan brushed damp curls from her forehead.
“What garden lady?”
“The one Mommy met before she died.”
Roman stiffened.
Betty continued.
“I saw her picture.”
“Where?”
“In Mommy’s secret book.”
Roman stared at his daughter.
“What secret book?”
Betty climbed from bed and walked toward the old dollhouse near her window.
She reached behind it.
Nothing.
Her face changed.
“It was here.”
Roman pulled the dollhouse away from the wall.
Behind it was a narrow compartment.
Empty.
Except for a torn piece of paper.
Joan picked it up.
Three words were handwritten across it.
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS—
The rest had been ripped away.
Roman stared at the paper.
“I never knew about this.”
Joan looked toward the bedroom door.
Someone had known exactly where to search.
Which meant whoever had removed Caroline’s book had access to Roman’s home.
And then the lights went out.
Betty screamed.
Roman reached beneath his jacket.
May you like
“Joan, get down.”
Outside, somewhere beyond the darkened windows, a gunshot cracked through the night.
