Chapter 3 - THE MISSING EMERALDThe police arrived at Whitmore Global before Andrew left the building.
He assumed they had come because of me.
He was wrong.
They came for Brenda.
Detective Laura Hayes entered the boardroom carrying a clear evidence bag.
Inside was the missing emerald necklace.
Margaret gasped.
“My necklace.”
Detective Hayes placed the bag on the table.
“It was recovered from Ms. Brenda Cole’s vehicle.”
Every face turned toward Brenda.
She stepped backward.
“That is impossible.”
“Officers found it inside a locked compartment beneath the passenger seat.”
“Someone planted it.”
Andrew looked at her.
“Brenda?”
She shook her head rapidly.
“I did not take it.”
Margaret moved toward her.
“You said Mariana stole it.”
“I said I saw Mariana near the jewelry room.”
“You told me you saw the necklace inside her handbag.”
Brenda’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I noticed.
Detective Hayes noticed too.
“You gave a false statement?” the detective asked.
“I was confused.”
“You described the handbag in detail.”
Brenda looked at Andrew for help.
He stared at the necklace.
The humiliation of the board vote had already weakened him.
Now he was forced to consider that his mistress had manipulated him.
“Why was it in your car?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you put it there?”
“No.”
“Did you take it from my mother?”
“No.”
Margaret slapped Brenda.
The sound cracked through the room.
For one strange moment, nobody reacted.
Perhaps everyone remembered the previous night.
Brenda touched her cheek.
Then she laughed.
It was not amused laughter.
It was angry and desperate.
“You think I planned this alone?”
Andrew froze.
“What does that mean?”
Brenda looked directly at Margaret.
“Ask your mother.”
Margaret’s face hardened.
“Do not involve me in your lies.”
“You gave me the key.”
A murmur moved around the table.
Detective Hayes stepped between them.
“What key?”
Brenda reached into her purse and removed a small brass key.
“It opens the jewelry room.”
Margaret stared at it.
“You stole that.”
“You handed it to me after dinner.”
Andrew looked from one woman to the other.
“Mother?”
Margaret lifted her chin.
“This woman is desperate.”
Brenda’s eyes filled with rage.
“You wanted Mariana gone.”
“I wanted my son protected.”
“You told me to place the necklace in Mariana’s handbag.”
Andrew became completely still.
Even my father looked surprised.
Brenda continued before anyone could stop her.
“But Mariana never put her bag down.”
I remembered holding the old brown leather handbag throughout the confrontation.
Margaret had mocked it.
Brenda had watched it.
They needed access to plant the necklace.
When they failed, Brenda hid it inside her car.
The accusation had not been spontaneous.
It had been prepared.
“Why?” Detective Hayes asked.
Brenda’s voice trembled.
“Margaret said Andrew could divorce Mariana for criminal conduct.”
My attorney leaned toward me.
A theft allegation would have triggered a clause in our marital agreement.
If I had been convicted of a serious crime, Andrew could claim a portion of my trust.
Margaret knew.
She had read the agreement more carefully than her son.
Andrew faced his mother.
“You knew Mariana was wealthy.”
Margaret did not answer.
“You knew who her father was.”
Still nothing.
His voice rose.
“How long?”
Margaret’s shoulders stiffened.
“Since before the wedding.”
The room seemed to shift around us.
Andrew stared at her.
“You told me she came from nothing.”
“I told you what you needed to believe.”
“Why?”
“Because if you knew the truth, you would have become dependent on her.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity.
He had become dependent on me anyway.
He simply had not known it.
Margaret turned toward me.
“You wanted to control him.”
“I saved his company.”
“You bought his loyalty.”
“No.”
I placed both hands on the table.
“I protected a man I loved.”
Margaret sneered.
“You always enjoyed watching us believe we were above you.”
“I never asked you to believe that.”
“You allowed us.”
“You insisted.”
Detective Hayes collected statements from everyone.
Brenda was taken downstairs for questioning.
Margaret demanded an attorney.
Andrew remained in the empty boardroom after the others left.
For the first time since I had known him, he looked small.
“Did my mother know about the company shares?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And the house?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Because she wanted access to my fortune without allowing you to respect me.”
He sat down heavily.
“You could have told me.”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“The night before our wedding.”
He frowned.
I remembered the private dinner.
I had begun explaining my family’s holdings.
Andrew interrupted and said money did not matter.
Then he spent twenty minutes describing how fortunate I was to marry into the Whitmore family.
I had stopped talking.
“You never listened,” I said.
He looked at the fading mark on my cheek.
“Mariana…”
“No.”
“I was angry.”
“You were cruel.”
“I thought you stole from us.”
“You thought striking me was acceptable.”
His eyes lowered.
“I made a mistake.”
“A mistake is forgetting an anniversary.”
I picked up my handbag.
“You made a choice.”
As I reached the door, he spoke again.
“Did you ever love me?”
I stopped.
“Yes.”
“Do you still?”
I looked back at him.
“No.”
May you like
For the first time, Andrew seemed to understand that frozen accounts and lost titles were not his greatest loss.
I had already left him.
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