Chapter 2 - THE KEY IN NORA’S SHOEHarrison moved Nora into the library.
Not the study.
Not anywhere Julian normally used.
His military aide, Colonel Elias Ward, closed the doors.
Harrison trusted Elias with his life.
At that moment, he trusted almost no one else.
A doctor examined Nora.
No serious injuries.
Bruising.
Exhaustion.
Dehydration.
She had not been beaten severely, but someone had restrained her repeatedly.
Harrison waited until she had water.
Then:
“Show me the key.”
Nora bent down.
From inside her right shoe, beneath the removable liner, she pulled a tiny brass key.
“I hid it when they searched me.”
Harrison stared.
“Who searched you?”
“Marcus.”
“Why?”
“Leonard told them I stole something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Nora began crying.
“I saw Miss Amelia collapse. I tried to call an ambulance myself.”
Harrison went still.
“Why yourself?”
“Because Dr. Voss told everyone not to.”
The private physician.
Dr. Samuel Voss, fifty-eight.
He had treated the Kingsley family for nearly twelve years.
Harrison had trusted him.
Nora continued.
“Miss Amelia was having trouble breathing.”
“Like Julian said?”
“Yes.”
“But before that she was fine.”
“What happened?”
Nora thought.
“She came downstairs angry.”
“With whom?”
“Mr. Julian.”
Harrison’s jaw tightened.
“About what?”
“I don’t know all of it.”
“Tell me what you heard.”
Nora looked frightened.
“They were in the upstairs sitting room.”
“I was folding linens outside.”
“Miss Amelia said…”
Nora closed her eyes.
“She said, ‘You changed it without telling me.’”
Harrison’s eyes narrowed.
“Changed what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then Mr. Julian said something about signatures.”
“And?”
“Miss Amelia told him she was calling you.”
Harrison felt the guilt again.
His daughter had tried to reach him.
Nora continued.
“Mr. Julian said you were overseas and there was no reason to involve you.”
“Then what?”
“Miss Amelia came downstairs.”
“She was crying.”
“She told me to bring her red leather folder.”
Harrison frowned.
“Red folder?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Her desk.”
Nora fetched it.
Then Dr. Voss arrived unexpectedly.
Julian told Amelia the doctor was already coming because she had complained of headaches.
“Had she?”
“Not to me.”
Harrison asked:
“What did Voss do?”
“He checked her.”
“Told her to rest.”
“Then gave her something.”
Harrison’s eyes sharpened.
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Injection?”
“No.”
“A tablet.”
Nora swallowed.
“She said she didn’t want it.”
“Dr. Voss said it would calm her heart.”
Harrison stood.
“What happened afterward?”
“Within maybe twenty minutes she became dizzy.”
“Then she couldn’t breathe.”
Nora’s hands began shaking.
“She fell beside the upstairs bedroom door.”
“Julian caught her.”
“I called emergency services.”
“What happened?”
“Leonard took the phone.”
Harrison stared.
“He said Dr. Voss had everything under control.”
“Why would he prevent an ambulance?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Amelia remain conscious?”
“For a little while.”
“What did she say?”
Nora’s eyes filled.
“She looked at me.”
“She said…”
Harrison waited.
“Dad.”
Only that.
Harrison turned away.
For several seconds he could not speak.
Then:
“What happened to the red folder?”
“I never found it.”
“Who last had it?”
“Miss Amelia.”
“And the key?”
Nora touched the brass key.
“Earlier that afternoon she gave it to me.”
Harrison frowned.
“Before the argument?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“If I asked, I was supposed to say she never gave me anything.”
Harrison understood.
Amelia had been scared before the final confrontation.
This was not one sudden marital fight.
She had already been protecting evidence.
“Where did she get the key?”
“I don’t know.”
Harrison examined it.
Small.
Old-fashioned.
Not a modern safe key.
Perhaps a desk.
A lockbox.
Cabinet.
Then Elias entered.
“We have a problem.”
Harrison looked up.
“What?”
“The medical certificate.”
“What about it?”
“Dr. Voss signed cause of death as sudden pregnancy-related cardiac failure.”
“Yes.”
Elias placed a copy down.
“But the estate never called emergency services.”
Harrison stared.
“How do you know?”
“We pulled dispatch records.”
No ambulance.
No emergency call completed.
No hospital transport.
Amelia died inside the mansion.
And instead of calling 911, the family physician signed a death certificate.
Harrison looked at Nora.
She whispered:
“I told you.”
Then Elias added:
“There’s more.”
Amelia’s body had been released to the funeral home unusually quickly.
Authorization came from her husband.
Julian Harrow.
And the person who arranged the private physician certification?
Leonard Sloane.
Harrison stood.
“Find Dr. Voss.”
Elias nodded.
“And Julian?”
Harrison looked toward the closed library doors.
“No.”
“Leave him exactly where he is.”
“Why?”
“Because if he thinks I believe Nora…”
May you like
Harrison picked up the brass key.
“…he may show me what he’s afraid I’ll find.”
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