Chapter 5 - The Question He Shouldn’t Have Asked
Miranda let the silence stretch.
Adrian filled it.
“I mean evidence against Lorraine.”
“That isn’t what you asked.”
“Miranda, don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“You’re upset.”
“My children were assaulted in my home.”
“Exactly. So maybe this isn’t the moment to interrogate family.”
Claire wrote something on a legal pad and slid it toward Miranda.
Ask why he recommended Brightwell.
Miranda steadied her voice.
“Why did you recommend Brightwell Domestic?”
Adrian’s answer came too quickly.
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I may have mentioned them.”
“You told me your friend used them.”
“Well, yes. A business acquaintance.”
“Who?”
Adrian went quiet.
Miranda waited.
“I don’t remember.”
“You personally signed Lorraine Voss’s employment verification at Northstar.”
Nothing.
Not breathing.
Not movement.
Just silence.
Then Adrian laughed once.
It sounded forced.
“Claire’s there, isn’t she?”
Miranda glanced at her attorney.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because this sounds like Claire.”
“It sounds like me asking why you knew my nanny before she entered my house.”
“She worked for a facilities company we used.”
“You signed her reference.”
“I sign dozens of things.”
“You’re CFO.”
“And?”
“You don’t sign employment references for random residential staff.”
His tone sharpened.
Miranda heard the shift.
The concerned brother-in-law was disappearing.
“Did you send Lorraine into my house?”
“No.”
“Did you tell her about the internal audit?”
“No.”
“Did you tell her to enter Evan’s study?”
“No.”
“Then why did you ask what police found?”
“Because my brother’s private things are in there.”
Miranda looked at Evan’s photograph.
“You didn’t care about his private things when you emptied his office three days after the funeral.”
“That was company property.”
“Was the blue envelope company property?”
Adrian stopped.
Claire’s head lifted sharply.
Miranda’s pulse accelerated.
She had not told him about the envelope.
Neither had police.
“What blue envelope?” he asked.
Too late.
Miranda leaned closer to the phone.
“You tell me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You paused.”
“Because you’re acting irrational.”
“Don’t call again tonight.”
“Miranda—”
She ended the call.
Claire immediately saved the notes she had taken.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“He absolutely knew.”
Miranda stood and walked toward the window.
Outside, the mansion grounds looked absurdly peaceful.
A gardener’s sprinkler swept across the distant lawn.
Inside, Bennett had begun crying whenever anyone carried a bowl near him.
Ryan had asked three times whether Lorraine could come back.
Miranda felt guilt rise inside her.
“I hired her.”
Claire looked up.
“Miranda.”
“I checked references. I interviewed her. I let her sleep twenty yards from my sons.”
“You were deceived.”
“I still opened the door.”
Claire closed the laptop.
“That guilt will be useful only if it helps you protect them now.”
Miranda did not answer.
That evening, she sat between Ryan’s and Bennett’s beds until both boys fell asleep.
Ryan resisted sleep longest.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Is Lorraine going to jail?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“But she did it.”
“Yes.”
“Then why don’t you know?”
Miranda considered giving him the easy answer.
Instead she told him the truth.
“Because courts have rules. Evidence has to be reviewed. People are allowed to defend themselves. It can take time.”
Ryan frowned.
“That’s stupid.”
“Sometimes it feels that way.”
He stared at the ceiling.
“Did I do the right thing with the button?”
Miranda leaned over and kissed his forehead.
“You did exactly the right thing.”
“I was scared.”
“You can be scared and still be brave.”
Ryan finally looked at her.
“She told me cameras can lie.”
Miranda’s stomach tightened.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“What were you talking about?”
“I asked why she covered the kitchen camera with a towel.”
Miranda sat upright.
“She covered another camera?”
Ryan nodded.
“She said it was because she didn’t like being watched.”
“Did you see her do that anywhere else?”
“The hallway once.”
“What hallway?”
Ryan pointed toward the west wing.
The corridor leading to Evan’s study.
Miranda waited until both boys were asleep.
Then she called the security company.
An hour later, a technician remotely reviewed system logs.
Two cameras had been manually obstructed several times during the previous month.
The kitchen.
The west hallway.
But the technician found something stranger.
Someone had attempted to delete archived footage.
“Could Lorraine do that?” Miranda asked.
“Not with her user access.”
“Who could?”
“Administrator.”
Miranda felt cold.
“How many administrators are there?”
The technician checked.
“Two accounts.”
“Mine and whose?”
A pause.
“An older account under Evan Hale.”
Miranda closed her eyes.
“Evan is dead.”
“I understand.”
“Has that account been used?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
May you like
The technician answered.
“Last night.”
