Chapter 4 - THE AUNT WHO NEVER CRIED
Lydia Blackwood arrived at Daniel’s home the following morning.
She came alone.
No driver.
No assistant.
No attorney.
She walked directly into the library where Daniel, Raymond, Detective Torres, and Emily were waiting.
Lydia was forty-four.
Tall.
Elegant.
Silver earrings.
Dark hair tied behind her neck.
For years, magazines had called her the compassionate face of the Blackwood family because Daniel avoided interviews while Lydia appeared at schools, hospitals, charity events, and music programs.
To Emily, she was Aunt Lydia.
The woman who brought hot chocolate on birthdays.
The woman who had slept on the floor beside Emily’s bed for nearly a week after Grace died.
The woman who never told Emily to stop crying.
Emily had loved her for that.
Now the photograph lay on the table between them.
Lydia looked at it.
She didn’t panic.
She didn’t deny being at the hotel.
Instead she sat.
“I wondered when you would find that.”
Daniel stared at his sister.
“You knew it existed?”
“I knew Grace was suspicious of me.”
“Why?”
“Because someone wanted her to be.”
Torres stepped forward.
“Who?”
“Victor Sloane.”
Daniel stiffened.
Victor had been chief financial officer of the Blackwood Foundation for twelve years.
He had handled much of the family’s charitable investments.
“Why would Victor turn Grace against you?”
“Because I was auditing him.”
Daniel looked shocked.
“You never told me.”
“Grace asked me not to.”
Emily folded her arms.
“Why did Mom write not to trust you?”
Lydia looked directly at her.
“Because your mother and I had an argument.”
“About money?”
“About your father.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Leave Emily out of that.”
“No.”
Emily’s voice surprised everyone.
“She already left me out for three years.”
Lydia sighed.
“Grace believed Daniel’s company had been used to access private information about people connected to the foundation.”
Blackwood Systems specialized in cybersecurity.
Government contracts.
Encrypted communications.
Security software.
Torres looked at Daniel.
“Was it?”
“I don’t know.”
Lydia continued.
“Grace found evidence that someone used Blackwood credentials to enter protected hotel databases.”
“Who?”
“She didn’t know.”
“Victor?”
“I believed so.”
Emily looked at the photograph.
“Then why didn’t Mom trust you?”
“Because I asked her to stop investigating.”
Daniel slammed his hand against the desk.
“You did what?”
“I thought she was putting herself in danger.”
“You should have told me.”
“She made me promise not to.”
Daniel laughed without humor.
“And you kept that promise after she died?”
Lydia’s expression hardened.
“You were barely functioning after she died.”
“That wasn’t your decision.”
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“It was mine.”
Emily watched both of them.
Years of family history seemed to move beneath their words.
Then Emily asked the question no adult had asked.
“Why were you at the hotel with Mom?”
Lydia looked at her.
“That photograph was taken the night Grace asked me for help.”
“With what?”
Lydia hesitated.
“Stealing something.”
Daniel went still.
“What?”
“A ledger.”
“From whom?”
“Victor.”
The missing five million dollars from the fundraiser suddenly seemed much smaller than before.
Lydia explained.
Grace had noticed transfers routed through shell organizations.
Music grants awarded to schools that did not exist.
Invoices paid to consulting companies formed only weeks earlier.
And several payments had been approved using Daniel’s electronic signature.
“I never approved fake grants,” Daniel said.
“I know.”
“Grace thought I did?”
“At first.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
“Was Mom investigating Dad?”
Lydia looked at Daniel before answering.
“Yes.”
Daniel said nothing.
That silence hurt Emily more than the answer.
Lydia continued.
“Eventually Grace realized someone had cloned Daniel’s authorization token.”
Torres asked the obvious question.
“Who had access?”
Daniel named four executives.
Victor Sloane.
Raymond Hale.
His own deputy CEO.
And Lydia.
Emily looked toward Raymond.
He did not move.
Lydia looked at the broken violin pieces Samuel had returned in a protective case.
“Where is the endpin?”
“Missing,” Raymond said.
For the first time Lydia looked genuinely frightened.
“You need to find it.”
“Why?”
“Because Grace told me she stored something inside that violin.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“What?”
“She never said.”
“Evidence?”
“Probably.”
Emily remembered the woman on the elevator camera.
“Evelyn Cross took it.”
Lydia shook her head.
“Then Evelyn is in danger.”
“She already was attacked.”
Lydia closed her eyes.
Daniel watched her carefully.
“You knew Evelyn.”
Lydia opened her eyes.
“What?”
“You didn’t ask who she was.”
Nobody spoke.
Lydia had indeed reacted to Evelyn’s name as if she already knew it.
Torres stepped closer.
“How do you know Evelyn Cross?”
Lydia looked toward the window.
Then she said something none of them expected.
“Because Evelyn isn’t her real name.”
Emily’s skin prickled.
“What is?”
Lydia looked directly at her.
“Evelyn Cross used to be called Evelyn Mercer.”
Daniel’s face lost its color.
Emily looked between them.
“Who is Evelyn Mercer?”
Daniel answered before Lydia could.
“Your mother’s sister.”
Emily stopped breathing.
“My mother didn’t have a sister.”
Daniel’s voice was almost a whisper.
“That’s what Grace told everyone.”
And suddenly Emily understood.
The woman who had picked up the brass endpin from the floor was not just a hotel employee.
May you like
She was family.
A family member Grace Blackwood had spent eleven years pretending did not exist.
