Chapter 6 - The Daughter in the PhotographHospital security moved Evelyn to a private room on a different floor. Thomas arranged for an officer to remain nearby, and Rebecca contacted Boston police about the threatening messages.
Annie stayed with her grandmother until late afternoon.
She wanted to believe the danger would pass once the authorities became involved. But every time a door opened, she looked up. Every unfamiliar voice in the corridor made her shoulders tighten.
Evelyn noticed.
“You don't have to sit here all day.”
“I want to.”
“You have a life beyond this room.”
Annie gave her a sad smile.
“I've been working fourteen hours a day. I'm not sure what that life looks like.”
Evelyn squeezed her hand.
“Then perhaps it's time to find out.”
Annie didn't know what to say.
At five o'clock, Thomas arrived with a paper bag containing soup, bread, and a small container of fruit. He placed it on the table.
“Food,” he announced. “No arguments.”
Annie almost smiled.
“I'm not a child.”
“I know. That's why I'm asking you to eat rather than ordering you to.”
She took the soup.
Thomas looked at Evelyn.
“Your granddaughter has been doing too much for too long.”
Evelyn nodded.
“She's stubborn.”
“So I've noticed.”
Annie ate quietly while Thomas explained that the police had identified the phone number used to send the threats. It belonged to a prepaid device purchased in cash.
“They're looking at nearby security footage,” he said. “No one has been identified yet.”
“Did you tell them about the foundation?”
“Rebecca gave them the documents we have. She's also requesting the original board minutes and financial records from the archive.”
Evelyn's expression grew troubled.
“The archive was supposed to have been destroyed.”
“Who told you that?” Thomas asked.
“Martin Lowe. He said the foundation had closed and the records were no longer relevant.”
Thomas exchanged a glance with Rebecca, who had joined them.
“Did Martin ever tell you what happened to the foundation's director?”
Evelyn looked away.
“His name was Daniel Cross. He died in a car accident.”
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
Rebecca wrote down the name.
“Was he involved in the investigation?”
“He was the one who asked me to look into the payments. He believed someone was diverting money through vendors. After he died, the foundation's board accepted Martin's explanation and closed the matter.”
Thomas felt a chill.
The old case had been buried by people who all seemed to know one another.
He was about to ask another question when Annie's phone rang.
The number was blocked.
She stared at the screen.
“Don't answer it,” Thomas said.
But Annie had already accepted the call.
For several seconds, there was only static.
Then a woman's voice spoke.
“Annie Carter?”
“Who is this?”
“You don't know me, but I know you.”
“Then tell me your name.”
A pause.
“My name is Sophie Bennett.”
Annie's stomach tightened.
Eleanor's daughter.
“What do you want?”
“To warn you. My mother isn't the only person involved.”
“Then help us prove it.”
Sophie gave a strained laugh.
“You think I can just walk into a police station and tell them everything? My mother has been controlling my money since I was nineteen. She put the company in my name, used my signature on transfers, and told me it was all legal.”
“Did you know about the false trust?”
“No. I swear I didn't.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I have something you need.”
Annie glanced at Thomas and put the call on speaker.
“What is it?”
“A photograph. My mother gave it to me years ago. She said it was proof that the Carter family had stolen money from the foundation.”
“What does it show?”
“A meeting. My mother, Martin Lowe, and Richard Whitmore. They're standing outside a private office. There are documents on the table.”
Thomas went rigid.
“Where did you get this number?” he asked.
Sophie hesitated.
“Mr. Whitmore?”
“Yes.”
“My mother said you would never believe Annie. She said if Annie ever told you about the old debt, you'd assume she was trying to extort you.”
Thomas's expression darkened.
“Where are you now?”
“I can't tell you over the phone.”
“Then meet us with the photograph.”
“I will. But you need to understand something. My mother has been waiting for this for years. She isn't just afraid of losing her job. She's afraid of what the original records will reveal.”
“What will they reveal?” Annie asked.
Sophie lowered her voice.
“That the money wasn't stolen by the Carter family.”
“Who stole it?”
“My mother says it was a deal between the foundation and a private medical supplier. But I found a letter that says the supplier never existed.”
The call abruptly ended.
Thomas immediately tried to call back, but the number was disconnected.
Rebecca began contacting the police again.
Annie stared at her phone.
“Do you think she's telling the truth?”
“I think we should verify everything she says,” Thomas replied. “But if she has a photograph, we need to find it.”
That evening, Thomas returned to the mansion to retrieve records from his father's old office. The room had remained largely untouched since Richard Whitmore's death. Boxes of correspondence sat in a locked cabinet, and the desk still held a brass paperweight shaped like a compass.
Thomas found the foundation's annual reports, donation records, and several letters from Martin Lowe.
Then he found an envelope bearing the words PRIVATE — ELEANOR BENNETT.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Eleanor, Martin Lowe, and Richard Whitmore standing outside a medical office. A fourth person stood partly outside the frame, his face obscured by a shadow.
On the back, Richard had written:
The payment was approved. The family must never learn who received it.
Thomas read the sentence several times.
He didn't know which family his father meant.
But the fourth person in the photograph was wearing a red scarf.
The same shade of red as the scarf Annie's grandmother had knitted for her.
May you like
And written beneath the photograph was a name Thomas had never expected to see.
Evelyn Carter.
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