Chapter 6 - The Daughter Richard Sterling Invented
“Vanessa Sterling isn't my daughter.”
Catherine repeated the statement without hesitation.
Dante stood beside her hospital bed, trying to decide whether the injured woman was frightened, confused, or telling the truth.
A white bandage covered the left side of her forehead.
Her face was older than he remembered.
But her eyes were sharp.
“Then who is she?” Dante asked.
Catherine looked toward the door.
“Is Richard here?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
Caleb stepped forward.
“We have two officers outside.”
Catherine shook her head.
“That won't stop him.”
Dante pulled a chair closer.
“Mrs. Sterling, I need answers.”
“Don't call me that.”
“What should I call you?”
“Catherine Bennett. My maiden name.”
Dante sat.
“Fine. Catherine. Start with Vanessa.”
Catherine closed her eyes.
“Richard and I had a daughter. Her name was Violet.”
Dante remembered the pendant Clara had shown him.
“Violet Sterling.”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
Tears slipped down Catherine's cheeks.
“I don't know.”
Dante leaned forward.
“What happened?”
Catherine stared at the ceiling.
“When Violet was six, I discovered Richard had been using our family's accounts to move stolen money. I threatened to expose him.”
“And?”
“He took our daughter.”
Dante felt his stomach tighten.
“He kidnapped his own child?”
“He told me she was safe. But if I went to the police, I'd never see her again.”
Catherine wiped her face.
“For years, I did what he wanted.”
“Was the warehouse fire part of that?”
She nodded.
“Richard ordered me to lock Daniel Cross inside the office. He said Daniel had stolen documents and needed to be detained until the police arrived.”
“Did you know he planned to set the building on fire?”
“No.”
Dante watched her carefully.
“Then why did you tell Antonio his son would take the blame?”
Catherine's face twisted.
“Because Richard was listening through a radio transmitter. He wanted Antonio to believe Gabriel would be accused if he didn't cooperate.”
“Cooperate with what?”
“Destroying the records Gabriel had copied.”
Dante thought of the videotape.
“Was Antonio there?”
“Yes. But he was trying to get Daniel out.”
Dante sat back.
“Did he succeed?”
“No.”
Catherine began crying.
“Antonio went for help. I tried to open the office door, but the lock jammed. Then the smoke came.”
Dante remembered Daniel Cross's death certificate.
One victim.
No surviving witnesses officially identified.
“Who started the fire?”
Catherine shook her head.
“I never saw.”
“Richard?”
“He claimed it was an electrical accident.”
“You believed him?”
“No. But I was terrified of losing Violet.”
Dante lowered his voice.
“Then what happened to your daughter?”
Catherine looked directly at him.
“Richard told me she died.”
Dante said nothing.
“Years later, I learned she was alive. He had placed her with another family under a different name.”
“And Vanessa?”
Catherine swallowed.
“Richard brought Vanessa into our home when she was sixteen.”
“Where did she come from?”
“I don't know. He said she was the daughter of an old business associate.”
Dante frowned.
“Why would he introduce her as his daughter?”
“Because he needed someone to inherit his businesses without asking questions.”
Dante thought about Vanessa's polished manners.
Her perfect smile.
Her obsession with status.
Had any part of her identity been real?
“Did Vanessa know?”
Catherine hesitated.
“She knew I wasn't her mother.”
“Did she know about Violet?”
“Yes.”
“Did she help Richard?”
Catherine's eyes filled.
“I think she was afraid of him.”
Dante remembered Vanessa trying to seize Clara's phone.
The forged signatures.
The attempted removal of his mother.
Fear could explain desperation.
It couldn't excuse what she'd done.
“Where is Vanessa now?”
Catherine shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Dante stood.
“Then tell me about Gabriel.”
Catherine reached for his sleeve.
“Your brother saved my life.”
“What happened at the motel?”
“Someone followed us. Gabriel tried to get me out through the back door.”
“Who attacked you?”
“I didn't see his face.”
“Where did Gabriel go?”
“He led the attacker away.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
Catherine caught his hand.
“Listen to me. Gabriel has spent seventeen years trying to expose Richard. But Richard isn't the only person involved.”
Dante went still.
“Who else?”
Catherine looked toward the hospital door.
“The person who controls Bellweather Holdings.”
“Richard controls Bellweather.”
“No.”
Dante frowned.
“Then who does?”
Catherine whispered:
“Your father created it.”
Back at the estate, Clara was helping Eleanor prepare for bed when a package arrived.
There was no return address.
Only Eleanor's name.
Clara examined it.
“Mrs. Moretti, were you expecting anything?”
“No, dear.”
Inside was a small wooden box.
Clara opened it.
A music box.
Almost identical to the one Gabriel had made years earlier.
But this one contained a tiny photograph.
A little girl stood beside a lake, holding a stuffed rabbit.
She wore a silver crescent pendant.
Clara stared.
“Mrs. Moretti, it's the child from Catherine's story.”
Eleanor reached for the photograph.
“Describe her.”
“Dark hair. Brown eyes. About six years old.”
Eleanor smiled sadly.
“Catherine said she had her grandmother's eyes.”
Clara turned the photograph over.
A handwritten message covered the back.
Eleanor, you once promised my mother you'd help me if I came back. I'm ready to tell the truth.
Beneath it was a telephone number.
Clara's heart began pounding.
“Mrs. Moretti, I think Violet sent this.”
Eleanor's hands trembled.
“Call her.”
Clara dialed.
The phone rang four times.
Then a woman answered.
“Hello?”
Clara swallowed.
“My name is Clara Hayes. I'm calling from the Moretti estate.”
Silence.
Then:
“Is Eleanor there?”
“Yes.”
“Is she safe?”
Clara looked at the elderly woman.
“Yes.”
The stranger exhaled.
“Thank God.”
Clara passed the phone to Eleanor.
“Hello?” Eleanor whispered.
A woman's voice broke.
“Mrs. Moretti?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“You probably don't remember me.”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“Violet?”
The woman began crying.
“You remember.”
“Of course I remember.”
“I've wanted to call you for years.”
“Where are you, dear?”
A pause.
“Close.”
Eleanor leaned forward.
“Come home, sweetheart.”
The woman made a small sound.
“I can't. Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard knows I've found the documents.”
Eleanor went still.
“What documents?”
“The originals proving who owns Bellweather Holdings.”
Clara watched Eleanor's expression change.
“Violet, listen carefully. Dante can help you.”
“I know.”
“Then let me give him your number.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
The woman's voice dropped.
“Because somebody inside your house has been reporting everything to Richard.”
Clara felt cold.
Eleanor tightened her grip on the phone.
“Who?”
“I don't know. But please don't trust anyone who had access to Antonio's study.”
Clara glanced toward the open bedroom door.
Nearly every senior employee had access to that room.
Including Caleb.
Including Vanessa.
And Clara herself.
“Violet?” Eleanor whispered.
“Yes?”
“Do you know where Gabriel is?”
Silence.
Then the woman said:
“He's with me.”
Eleanor began crying.
“Is he all right?”
“He's hurt, but alive.”
“Please let me speak to him.”
Another pause.
Then a man's voice came through.
“Mom?”
Eleanor pressed the phone against her ear.
“Gabriel?”
“Hi, Mom.”
She sobbed.
“My baby.”
Clara turned away, giving her privacy.
Gabriel's voice trembled.
“I'm sorry I stayed away.”
Eleanor could barely speak.
“Just come home.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Then his tone changed.
“Mom, is Dante there?”
“He's coming home.”
“Tell him not to trust Caleb Ross.”
Clara froze.
Eleanor whispered:
“Why?”
May you like
Gabriel answered:
“BECAUSE CALEB WAS WORKING FOR RICHARD STERLING BEFORE HE EVER WORKED FOR OUR FAMILY.”
