Chapter 6 - The Message From the Dead.
Emma read the messages three times before showing the phone to Adrian.
Victoria tried to take it from her.
Emma pulled away.
"Don't touch me."
Victoria stopped.
The slap in the ballroom had changed something permanent between them.
Adrian photographed the screen with his own phone.
"Do you recognize the number?"
"No."
"Did your mother ever receive threats?"
Emma shook her head.
"Not that she told me."
Victoria folded her arms.
"If someone is trying to scare you away from B-17, that means the box matters."
Emma stared at her.
"Or it means you sent the message because you want me to think that."
Victoria's lips pressed into a thin line.
"You have learned quickly."
Adrian called the detective assigned to the case and forwarded the screenshots.
The reply came ten minutes later.
The number had been spoofed.
The message could have been sent from almost anywhere.
Adrian suggested waiting until morning.
Emma refused.
"If Malcolm has the same information we do, he'll go to the bank."
"The bank is closed."
"People with enough money don't wait for business hours."
Victoria looked at Adrian.
"She's right."
It was the first time she had agreed with Emma all night.
The three of them drove to First Vale Private Bank with Daniel and two police officers.
The branch manager met them at a private side entrance shortly after two in the morning.
He looked irritated until Adrian showed him the key.
Then his face changed.
"Where did you get that?"
Emma answered.
"It belonged to my mother."
The manager stared at her name on her identification.
"Carter?"
"Yes."
He looked at Adrian.
"Mr. Vale, Box B-17 is under a sealed legacy agreement."
"Whose agreement?"
"Jonathan Vale and Catherine Bell."
Emma felt the floor shift beneath her.
"My mother had a box with his father?"
The manager nodded.
"Joint access, survivor rights."
Victoria whispered.
"So Catherine could open it after Jonathan died."
The manager looked at her.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because Mr. Vale wasn't the first account holder to die."
Emma stared at him.
"My mother died seven years ago."
"According to our records, Catherine Bell was declared deceased twenty-two years ago."
Silence filled the private lobby.
Emma laughed once because the alternative was screaming.
"That's impossible."
The manager turned his monitor toward them.
A scanned death certificate appeared.
Catherine Bell.
Date of death: November 14, 2004.
Emma had lived with her mother until 2019.
Adrian leaned toward the screen.
"Who filed this?"
The manager scrolled.
"A law firm."
"Which one?"
"Hale, Mercer and Lowe."
Victoria's father had founded Hale, Mercer and Lowe.
Everyone looked at Victoria.
She took a step back.
"I was eighteen in 2004."
Adrian's voice was flat.
"But your father wasn't."
The manager cleared his throat.
"There is another problem."
No one wanted another problem.
"Box B-17 was accessed three weeks ago."
Emma stared at him.
"By whom?"
"The system says Catherine Bell."
Emma's skin went cold.
"That's not possible."
The manager nodded.
"The signature card was presented with biometric override authorization."
Adrian frowned.
"There were no biometrics on these accounts in 2004."
"Correct."
"So someone updated the file."
"Correct."
"Who had authority?"
The manager looked at the screen.
"A Vale trustee."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"Name."
The manager hesitated.
"Your uncle, Richard Vale."
Victoria closed her eyes.
Adrian looked at her.
"You knew."
"I suspected."
"You knew enough to pay Malcolm."
"I knew Richard was connected to my father's ruin."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you worshipped your family name."
Adrian's stare sharpened.
"And you planned to marry into it."
Victoria flinched.
"Those things are not mutually exclusive."
The manager led them through two steel doors into the vault.
Box B-17 was long and narrow.
Emma inserted the brass key.
Her hand shook.
Adrian covered it briefly with his own.
"You don't have to open it."
Emma looked at him.
"Someone slapped me, framed me, threatened me, and rewrote my mother's death because of this box."
She turned the key.
"I'm opening it."
The lock clicked.
Inside was a single white envelope.
The same kind of envelope shown on the CCTV monitor.
Victoria whispered.
"No."
Emma lifted it out.
It was heavier than paper should have been.
Inside were three things.
A tiny cassette recorder.
A black ledger wrapped in plastic.
And the real Asteria necklace.
Adrian stared at the diamonds.
Victoria covered her mouth.
Emma reached for the ledger.
Then the bank lights went out.
A man's voice came from the darkness.
"I warned you not to open the box."
The bank manager insisted that every movement inside the vault be recorded by the officers' body cameras.
Emma welcomed the precaution.
She had learned in a single night that truth without a record could be purchased, edited, or buried.
Before opening B-17, she asked the manager to state the box number, the names on the legacy agreement, and the condition of the lock out loud.
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
"You have become very careful."
Emma kept her eyes on the key.
"Careful people called me a thief tonight."
"I'm becoming difficult."
May you like
Adrian almost smiled.
"In this family, that may be the safest thing you can become."
