Chapter 4 - The Empty Drawer
Michael did not touch anything in the office.
He stood in the doorway and studied the room the way he studied a damaged engine before reaching for a wrench.
The desk drawers had been pulled out.
A framed photograph of Willow and Claire lay face down on the floor.
The old green metal cabinet stood open behind the chair.
Its bottom drawer had been forced with something narrow and heavy.
Willow looked at the empty space inside it.
“Those were the originals?”
Michael nodded.
“Some of them.”
Her pulse jumped.
“Some?”
Michael looked at her.
“I didn't keep everything in one place.”
Willow let out a breath she had not realized she was holding.
Then she saw the broken picture frame.
“Someone knew exactly where to look.”
“Yes.”
“Richard?”
“Maybe.”
“Who else knew?”
Michael hesitated.
“Leah.”
“Anyone else?”
“One other person.”
“Who?”
Michael did not answer immediately.
Willow's frustration snapped.
“Dad, I have spent one hour finding out my dead mother investigated the family I married into, that I may control part of their company, and that somebody broke into your office before we got here.”
She pointed at the cabinet.
“You don't get to keep saying not yet.”
Michael looked at her for a long moment.
“Amanda Sterling.”
Willow froze.
“Lucas's first wife?”
“Yes.”
“How does Amanda know?”
“Because she found me six years ago.”
The timing struck Willow like cold water.
Six years ago was one year before Willow married Lucas.
“What did she want?”
“Help.”
“With what?”
“Getting away from him.”
Willow stared at her father.
“From Lucas?”
Michael nodded.
The garage seemed to grow quieter.
Willow remembered Amanda only through photographs Richard kept hidden in plain sight.
Elegant.
Blonde.
Old-money Boston family.
Always described as unstable after the divorce.
Richard said she had embarrassed Lucas.
Marion called her fragile.
Lucas said almost nothing except that Amanda had betrayed him.
Willow suddenly heard those stories differently.
“What did he do to her?”
Michael looked down at the scattered papers.
“She said Lucas never needed to hurt her badly enough for a hospital.”
Willow's stomach tightened.
“He controlled her money.”
“He checked her messages.”
“He decided who she could see.”
“He punched walls beside her head.”
“He once locked her out on a terrace for two hours in January because she disagreed with Richard at dinner.”
Willow's breath caught.
She thought of the balcony at the Peninsula.
“Why didn't Amanda go to the police?”
“She did once.”
“What happened?”
“The report disappeared from the system for three weeks.”
Willow felt sick.
“When it came back, it described a verbal dispute.”
“Who changed it?”
Michael's gaze hardened.
“That is one of the things Leah has been trying to prove.”
Willow closed her eyes.
Every charming apology Lucas had ever offered suddenly felt rehearsed.
Every time he called her dramatic.
Every time Richard told her she misunderstood how powerful families handled conflict.
Every time Marion suggested Willow should be more discreet.
They had not been improvising.
They had a system.
“Did Amanda know about the trust?”
“Not at first.”
“Then how did she find you?”
“Claire's name.”
Michael crouched near the broken frame but still did not touch it.
“Amanda went through old Sterling legal files after she realized Richard was moving money through companies Lucas didn't understand.”
“She found a reference to Claire Donovan and Daniel's trust.”
“She searched the name and found me.”
Willow's voice turned sharp.
“And you still let me marry Lucas.”
Michael's face tightened.
“I told you I thought he was dangerous.”
“You told me he was weak.”
“I thought if I told you the whole story without proof, Lucas would convince you I was trying to destroy your relationship.”
“He probably would have.”
“And would you have believed me?”
Willow opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Five years earlier, she had been desperately in love.
Lucas had already convinced her Michael's distrust came from class resentment.
Willow hated admitting how easily that explanation had worked.
Michael stood.
“I was wrong to keep it from you.”
She looked away.
“Yes.”
“I thought silence kept you safe.”
“It kept me blind.”
“Yes.”
The simple agreement disarmed her anger more than an excuse would have.
A sound came from the garage bay.
Both of them went still.
Metal scraped lightly against concrete.
Michael reached beneath his desk and pulled out a heavy flashlight.
Willow grabbed his arm.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You said stay where there are cameras.”
Michael glanced at the ceiling.
The shop had four security cameras.
A small red light blinked above the office door.
He nodded.
“Call 911.”
Willow took out her phone.
Before she could unlock it, a shadow moved beyond the frosted office glass.
Michael raised the flashlight.
“Who's there?”
No answer.
The side door slammed.
Michael ran into the garage.
Willow followed despite his curse.
A figure in a dark jacket sprinted between two parked cars outside the open service bay.
Michael reached the door in time to see a black SUV tear away from the curb.
Willow lifted her phone and recorded the rear of the vehicle.
The license plate was obscured by mud.
“Did you see him?” she asked.
Michael shook his head.
“Maybe thirty.”
“Man?”
“I think so.”
Sirens sounded faintly several blocks away.
Michael turned back toward the office.
Willow followed his gaze.
A single sheet of paper now lay on his desk.
It had not been there moments earlier.
Michael approached carefully.
Typed in the center of the page were six words.
LET THE DEAD KEEP THEIR SECRETS.
Willow stared at the message.
“Richard.”
Michael shook his head.
“Too sloppy.”
“You think he is above threatening us?”
“No.”
“I think he's too smart to leave a threat in writing.”
Willow's phone buzzed.
She looked down.
There were forty-three missed notifications.
News alerts.
Texts.
Social-media messages.
The anniversary incident had already escaped the ballroom.
One video clip showed Willow walking away after the slap.
The actual impact was hidden behind a guest's shoulder, but the sound was clear.
The caption read STERLING ANNIVERSARY MELTDOWN.
Another post claimed Willow had thrown a glass at Richard before Lucas intervened.
“That never happened,” she said.
Michael looked at the screen.
“It's starting.”
“What?”
“The rewrite.”
Her phone rang.
Helena.
Willow answered immediately.
“Are you okay?” Helena asked.
“We're at the shop.”
“Do not go home.”
Willow looked at Michael.
“Why?”
“Because Sterling PR just emailed every reporter in the city.”
Willow's stomach dropped.
“What are they saying?”
Helena was silent for half a second.
“That you became intoxicated and verbally aggressive.”
“I had one glass of champagne.”
“I know.”
“They're saying Lucas tried to calm you down.”
Willow almost laughed.
“Calm me down?”
“They're also saying Richard was protecting himself after you threatened him with the broken glass.”
Michael's face hardened.
“That glass broke after Lucas hit her.”
“I know,” Helena repeated.
“Michael, I recorded the argument before the slap.”
Willow gripped the phone.
“You did?”
“From the moment Richard called your dad's hands dirty.”
“Do you have the slap?”
“The camera swung when people moved, but the audio is clear and I have Lucas's arm coming down.”
Michael exhaled slowly.
“Back it up somewhere they can't reach.”
“Already did.”
Helena's voice changed.
“There is something else.”
“What?” Willow asked.
“Marion Sterling wants to meet you.”
Willow stared at the phone.
“Tonight?”
“Now.”
“No.”
Helena hesitated.
“She said to tell you Amanda was right.”
Michael went completely still.
Willow looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
Michael's expression darkened.
“I don't know.”
“Do you believe her?”
“No.”
“Then why do you look scared?”
“Because Marion has spent twenty-three years pretending Claire Donovan never existed.”
Police lights washed blue across the garage windows.
Michael looked at the threat on the desk.
May you like
Then he looked at Willow.
“Tonight she remembered your mother.”
