Chapter 3 - THE NAME IN THE FILE
Daniel left Emily's apartment shortly after ten.
Noah stood at the window waving until the black sedan disappeared.
Emily watched beside him.
“He's nice,” Noah announced.
“You've known him forty minutes.”
“He gave me the frosting corner.”
Apparently that settled the matter.
Emily tucked Noah into bed and sat beside him until he fell asleep.
Only then did she allow herself to think about Saturday.
Collins had effectively threatened to fire her.
Her checking account contained $486.
Rent was due Monday.
The birthday had been saved.
Everything else might be falling apart.
Across town, Daniel entered his penthouse and found his attorney, Marcus Reed, waiting.
A folder lay on the coffee table.
Daniel didn't sit.
“Tell me.”
Marcus opened it.
“Your mother wasn't imagining things.”
Daniel's face hardened.
His mother, Margaret Whitmore, had died seven months earlier.
Near the end of her life, she'd repeatedly asked Daniel to find a woman named Rebecca Carter.
Daniel had assumed Rebecca was an old friend.
He'd been wrong.
Marcus slid a photograph across the table.
Rebecca Carter.
Daniel stared.
He had seen that face before.
Not exactly.
But enough.
Emily had her eyes.
“Who was she?”
“Your father's bookkeeper.”
Daniel looked up.
“My father ran a hardware store.”
“That was one of his businesses.”
Marcus opened another file.
Before Daniel's father died, he'd invested secretly in a small software company.
That investment eventually became part of the intellectual property on which Whitmore Technologies had been built.
Rebecca Carter had handled the original paperwork.
Then she vanished.
“Why?”
“We don't know.”
Marcus hesitated.
“But your mother left instructions. If Rebecca couldn't be found, we were supposed to locate her daughter.”
Daniel felt cold.
“Emily.”
Marcus nodded.
“Emily Carter is Rebecca's daughter.”
Daniel sat slowly.
The waitress he'd met by accident wasn't a stranger.
Not entirely.
“What did my mother want with her?”
“We haven't opened the sealed letter. Your mother specified that Emily had to be present.”
Daniel looked toward the windows.
Rain covered Manhattan in silver.
He remembered Emily crying in a storage room because missing two hours of work might cost her everything.
Then he looked at the file.
“What aren't you telling me?”
Marcus exhaled.
“Rebecca died twelve years ago.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“And?”
“There may be money involved.”
“How much?”
“I don't know yet.”
Daniel's gaze sharpened.
“Marcus.”
“Potentially millions.”
The following afternoon, Emily arrived at Belmont expecting termination.
Instead, Collins met her beside the hostess stand.
“You're late.”
She checked the clock.
“I’m six minutes early.”
Collins folded his arms.
“Don't get clever.”
Emily felt several employees watching.
“Am I fired?”
“No.”
That surprised her.
Collins looked as though the answer irritated him too.
“Corporate called this morning.”
“Corporate?”
“Apparently somebody purchased Belmont.”
Emily stared.
“What?”
“Effective immediately.”
Her stomach dropped.
Daniel.
It had to be.
Anger came faster than gratitude.
At noon, Daniel entered.
Emily marched straight toward him.
“You bought the restaurant?”
Several heads turned.
Daniel removed his coat.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It was available.”
“Yesterday?”
“No.”
That stopped her.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“My company has been negotiating to acquire the building for six months. Belmont's owner decided to include the restaurant operation.”
Emily searched his face.
“So this wasn't about me?”
“No.”
Relief crossed her expression.
Then Daniel added, “But firing you would have been.”
Emily's eyes narrowed.
“I told Collins your schedule was not grounds for retaliation.”
“I don't need you fighting my battles.”
“I know.”
That answer disarmed her.
Daniel glanced toward Collins.
“But people who misuse authority should be challenged whether their employees need rescuing or not.”
Emily said nothing.
Daniel continued.
“I came because I need to speak with you about something unrelated.”
He handed her a card.
Marcus Reed.
Attorney.
Emily immediately became wary.
“Am I being sued?”
“No.”
“Then why do I need a lawyer?”
“Because my mother knew yours.”
The restaurant noise seemed to fade.
Emily's face changed.
“My mother?”
“Rebecca Carter.”
“How do you know that name?”
Daniel saw fear beneath the question.
Not surprise.
Fear.
“You knew my mother was looking for her?”
Emily stepped backward.
“My mother told me never to trust anyone named Whitmore.”
Daniel froze.
Now it was his turn to be surprised.
“She said that?”
“More than once.”
“Why?”
Emily's eyes hardened.
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
She walked away.
That evening, Emily returned home and pulled an old metal box from beneath her bed.
She hadn't opened it in years.
Inside were her mother's photographs, death certificate, an old silver necklace, and a sealed envelope.
On the front, written in Rebecca's handwriting, were five words.
For Emily, when they find you.
Emily's hands began trembling.
She opened it.
Inside was a key.
Nothing else.
A tiny brass key stamped with the number 317.
Then she noticed something she'd never seen before.
A name had been engraved along its edge.
WHITMORE.
Behind her, someone knocked.
Emily quickly closed the box.
Another knock.
She approached the door.
“Who is it?”
Silence.
She looked through the peephole.
No one.
Then she looked down.
An envelope had been pushed beneath the door.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Emily entering Daniel's car the previous night.
May you like
Across the photograph, someone had written:
Your mother trusted a Whitmore once. Look what happened to her.
