Chapter 6 - Marisol Wasn’t the First Person Eleanor Tried to RemoveNaomi Brooks arrived at Camille’s house the next morning.
She was fifty-one, precise, and unimpressed by wealth.
Ethan liked her immediately because she did not soften facts for him.
She spread documents across the dining room table.
“This is not yet proof of every conclusion you’re imagining.”
“I know.”
“Say it again.”
Ethan frowned.
“Why?”
“Because angry people become bad investigators.”
He exhaled.
“These documents raise serious questions.”
“Better.”
Naomi pointed at Laurel’s copies.
“Potential unauthorized trust transfers.”
Then the blue page.
“Potential attempt to establish a narrative about Noah.”
Then the hospital report.
“Separate child-safety issue.”
She looked at Ethan.
“And your mother’s possible cognitive defense may be real, fake, or partially real.”
“She planned it.”
“You don’t know that yet.”
Ethan almost argued.
Then stopped.
Facts.
Not fury.
Marisol entered with coffee.
Naomi looked at her.
“Mrs. Alvarez?”
“Marisol.”
“May I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Did Eleanor ever threaten to fire you before Laurel died?”
Marisol hesitated.
“Yes.”
Ethan looked up.
“When?”
“Several times.”
“Why didn’t I know?”
Marisol gave him a tired look.
He almost laughed.
Right.
Same answer.
He didn’t listen.
Naomi asked:
“What reasons did Eleanor give?”
“Once she said I was too familiar with Mrs. Laurel.”
“Meaning?”
“I called her Laurel when we were alone.”
Ethan frowned.
“Laurel asked everyone to.”
“Mrs. Vale hated it.”
Another incident.
Marisol had driven Noah to preschool without Eleanor’s approval.
Another.
Marisol let Laurel rest instead of waking her for a family luncheon Eleanor insisted she attend.
Then something more serious.
“Mrs. Vale said I put ideas in Laurel’s head about money.”
Ethan sat straighter.
“What ideas?”
“I noticed a bank statement.”
“Which one?”
“I was cleaning the study.”
“A transfer?”
“Yes.”
“EV Family Administrative.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“I asked Laurel whether it was supposed to be there.”
“And?”
“She started looking.”
So Marisol had helped trigger Laurel’s investigation.
That explained Eleanor’s hostility.
Naomi asked:
“Did Eleanor know you were the one who noticed?”
“Eventually.”
“What happened?”
“She told me staff should not look at financial papers.”
Reasonable by itself.
Then:
“She said if I cared about my job, I would forget what I saw.”
Less reasonable.
“Did Laurel defend you?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Marisol smiled faintly.
“She said, ‘If you fire Marisol, you’ll have to explain why to me first.’”
Ethan could hear Laurel saying it.
Naomi asked:
“Was anyone else removed from the household after conflicts with Eleanor?”
Marisol looked at Ethan.
He frowned.
“Who?”
“Mr. James.”
Ethan thought.
James Porter.
Former driver.
Worked for the family twelve years.
Eleanor told Ethan he stole fuel-card money.
He was fired.
“James stole from us.”
Marisol said nothing.
Ethan’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
“I never believed it.”
“Why?”
“He was careful with money.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“I know.”
Naomi interrupted.
“What evidence supported the accusation?”
Ethan tried to remember.
Fuel statements.
Receipts.
Eleanor presented them.
James denied everything.
Ethan had been furious and busy.
He fired him personally.
Without police.
Without independent audit.
Naomi asked:
“Where is he?”
Marisol knew.
“Phoenix.”
Ethan called.
James answered after three rings.
“Mr. Vale?”
His voice sounded surprised.
“James.”
A pause.
“I haven’t heard from you in six years.”
“I know.”
“What do you need?”
Ethan looked at Naomi.
“The truth.”
James laughed once.
“That’s new.”
Ethan accepted it.
“Did you steal from our fuel accounts?”
“No.”
“Did my mother fabricate it?”
Silence.
Then:
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know?”
“She asked me to drive her places without logging mileage.”
Ethan frowned.
“Where?”
“Banks.”
“Storage facilities.”
“A lawyer’s office.”
“Which lawyer?”
“Warren Pike.”
Ethan’s chest tightened.
Eleanor’s current attorney.
“Why did she want the mileage hidden?”
“She said Victor didn’t need to know.”
Ethan’s late father.
“What year?”
“Mostly the year before Mr. Vale died.”
Victor had died seven years ago.
“What happened before you were fired?”
James hesitated.
“I saw your mother remove documents from Victor’s office.”
“What documents?”
“No idea.”
“I told Marisol.”
Ethan looked at her.
She nodded slowly.
“I forgot that.”
James continued.
“Two weeks later, Eleanor said the fuel numbers didn’t match.”
“You denied it.”
“Yes.”
“I fired you.”
“Yes.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
James was quiet.
“Okay.”
“No.”
Ethan swallowed.
“That isn’t enough.”
“No.”
James sounded almost amused.
“But it’s a start.”
Naomi leaned closer.
“Mr. Porter, would you be willing to speak to counsel about what you observed?”
“If this is about Eleanor?”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely.”
After the call, Ethan sat silently.
Marisol whispered:
“She did it before.”
Maybe.
Not proven.
But pattern.
People who noticed things disappeared from the household.
James.
Almost Marisol.
Perhaps others.
Naomi said:
“Who else?”
Ethan searched memory.
A bookkeeper named Ruth Bell left suddenly.
Eleanor said she was unreliable.
A nurse during Laurel’s illness was dismissed after a disagreement over medication schedules.
Eleanor said she was rude.
A family accountant retired unexpectedly.
Ethan had accepted every explanation.
Naomi began a list.
“Don’t assume all were framed.”
“I know.”
“Contact them.”
They did.
Ruth answered from Colorado.
When Ethan said Eleanor’s name, she went quiet.
Then:
“She’s finally in trouble?”
Ethan felt cold.
“What did she do to you?”
Ruth laughed bitterly.
“She convinced your father I was making accounting mistakes.”
“Were you?”
“No.”
“What did you find?”
“A reimbursement company.”
Ethan stared at the paper.
“EV Family Administrative Services?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
Nine years ago.
Two years before Victor died.
Long before Laurel’s final investigation.
“How much money?”
Ruth said:
“At the time? About one hundred and eighty thousand.”
Ethan felt his stomach drop.
“What did Dad do?”
“He asked Eleanor.”
“And?”
“Three days later, I was fired.”
“Why?”
“Confidentiality violation.”
Ethan looked at Naomi.
The ring of people around Eleanor was not shrinking.
It was turning into a trail.
Then Ruth said:
“There was one person your mother couldn’t fire.”
“Who?”
“Your father.”
Ethan went still.
“What did Victor do?”
“He started keeping copies somewhere outside the house.”
Naomi leaned forward.
“Where?”
Ruth answered:
“I don’t know.”
Then she added:
“But Laurel did.”
Ethan felt the next door open.
Laurel’s blue box was missing.
But perhaps it had only contained copies of something larger.
May you like
Something Victor started years earlier.
Something Eleanor had spent a decade trying to control.
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