Chapter 7 - The Grandmother's Name
For the first time since Thea had met him, Lachlan looked truly lost.
Not angry.
Not strategic.
Lost.
The photograph showed Astrid Voss leaving Adrian Shaw's private clinic nearly three years earlier.
The date was four months after Elena's death.
Before Lachlan's vision had begun to recover.
Thea enlarged the image.
“Could there be another explanation?”
“Yes.”
“Name one.”
“My grandmother could have been checking on my treatment.”
“Without telling you?”
“Yes.”
“You believe that?”
“No.”
Marcus scanned the surrounding woods.
“We shouldn't stay here.”
Lachlan barely seemed to hear.
Thea touched his arm.
“Listen to him.”
That got his attention.
They returned to the vehicles.
Police arrived twenty minutes later.
They found no bodies.
No blood.
No sign of Graham Vale.
No sign of Adrian Shaw.
Only Adrian's abandoned phone.
At midnight, Thea and Lachlan returned to the secure townhouse.
Astrid was waiting.
The eighty-year-old matriarch sat beside the fireplace wearing pearl earrings and a cream suit, as though midnight interrogations were included in her schedule.
“You ignored six of my calls,” she said.
Lachlan closed the door.
“Why did you visit Adrian Shaw?”
Astrid's expression did not change.
Thea watched carefully.
“Who?”
“Don't.”
One word from Lachlan.
Cold enough to freeze the room.
Astrid looked at him.
Then at Thea.
Then at Marcus.
“Leave us.”
Marcus remained.
Lachlan said, “Stay.”
Astrid's eyebrow lifted.
Thea almost admired her.
“Very well.”
Lachlan placed Adrian's photograph on the table.
Astrid looked down.
Something shifted behind her eyes.
Recognition.
“You remember now,” Lachlan said.
“Yes.”
“Why did you visit him?”
“To ask whether you would ever see again.”
“You told me you trusted the hospital reports.”
“I lied.”
Thea crossed her arms.
“It seems hereditary.”
Astrid looked at her.
“I understand you're unhappy.”
“That's one word.”
Lachlan interrupted.
“What did Adrian tell you?”
“That the prognosis was uncertain.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“Did you pay him?”
Astrid's face hardened.
“I paid every physician treating you.”
“Privately.”
“I paid hundreds of thousands of dollars privately.”
“Did you pay him to keep me blind?”
Astrid actually recoiled.
“No.”
Thea watched.
If the old woman was acting, she was excellent.
“Adrian wrote that he remembered who paid him,” Lachlan said.
“Then find Adrian and ask.”
“He's missing.”
That changed her.
Her fingers tightened.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Astrid looked toward Marcus.
“Police?”
“Searching.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Astrid sat back.
“There is something I didn't tell you.”
Lachlan's laugh was bitter.
“Of course.”
“The night Elena died, she called me.”
His expression emptied.
“What?”
“Before she called you.”
“How long before?”
“Approximately twenty minutes.”
“What did she say?”
Astrid looked suddenly old.
“She asked whether I knew about an account in Luxembourg.”
“And?”
“I told her no.”
“Was that true?”
“No.”
Lachlan closed his eyes.
Thea felt tension climb.
“What was the account?” she asked.
Astrid looked at her.
“A holding vehicle created by my husband.”
“For what?”
“Emergency reserves.”
“Legal?”
“Yes.”
“Then why lie?”
“Because Elena had discovered it was being used after his death.”
Lachlan opened his eyes.
“By whom?”
“I didn't know.”
“You knew someone was stealing.”
“I suspected.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
“You had just become CEO.”
“So you protected me by letting Elena investigate alone?”
Astrid's voice broke for the first time.
“I told her to stop.”
“Why?”
“Because I received a photograph of Sophie leaving school.”
Silence.
Thea's stomach twisted.
“A threat,” she said.
Astrid nodded.
“Someone knew Elena was investigating. They knew Sophie was her weakness.”
“And you never told Elena?”
“I did.”
“What did she say?”
Astrid looked toward the fire.
“She said she would rather die than let fear decide who controlled the family.”
Lachlan stepped back as though struck.
“And then she did.”
Astrid lowered her head.
“Yes.”
Thea saw the grief.
Not performed.
Not polished.
Three years old and still alive.
“Why arrange my marriage?” Thea asked.
Astrid looked at her.
“Because Lachlan was becoming isolated.”
“That's what you said.”
“It was true.”
“Not the whole truth.”
“No.”
“Then tell me the rest.”
Astrid hesitated.
“I believed the person behind Elena's death might act again if control of the company changed.”
“And marriage changed Lachlan's voting shares.”
“Yes.”
Thea stood.
“You used me as bait.”
“No.”
“Someone threatened me on my wedding night.”
“I did not expect—”
“That's what bait is!”
Lachlan stepped between them.
“Thea.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“You were lied to. I understand that. But I was brought into this family with no idea someone had already murdered one woman for getting too close to your company.”
Astrid stood.
“I ensured your mother's treatment.”
“That does not purchase my life.”
“No.”
The quiet answer stopped Thea.
Astrid looked directly at her.
“No, it doesn't.”
For the first time, the old woman's confidence cracked.
“I was wrong.”
Thea hadn't expected an apology.
“I saw you as a solution,” Astrid continued. “Not as a person who could become another target. I have spent my entire life believing that enough money can build walls around consequences.”
Her eyes shifted toward Lachlan.
“Elena proved me wrong.”
Thea's anger remained.
But now it shared space with understanding.
“What did Adrian have to do with Elena?”
Astrid shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“You were photographed at his clinic.”
“I visited once.”
“You knew him before the accident?”
“No.”
Thea remembered the old charity photograph.
“Elena did.”
Astrid looked genuinely surprised.
“What?”
Lachlan showed her the photograph.
Astrid stared at it.
“I don't remember this event.”
“Eight months before Elena died,” Thea said. “Adrian wrote her a personal note.”
Astrid looked at Lachlan.
“Your sister knew him.”
“Yes.”
“Then perhaps Adrian treated her.”
“For what?”
Nobody knew.
Marcus's phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then looked at Lachlan.
“They found Adrian.”
Everyone stood.
“Alive?” Thea asked.
“Yes.”
Relief moved through the room.
“Where?”
“Bus station outside Richmond.”
“Why?”
“He says he escaped.”
“From whom?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Graham Vale.”
Lachlan grabbed his coat.
Astrid said, “I'm coming.”
“No.”
“He may know why my name is connected.”
Lachlan stared at his grandmother.
Years of love and distrust crossed his face.
“Fine.”
They reached the hospital where police had taken Adrian shortly before two in the morning.
The doctor looked exhausted.
Bruise across his cheek.
Split lip.
But alive.
Lachlan entered first.
Adrian stared.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“You disappeared.”
“I noticed.”
“Why did Vale take you?”
Adrian looked toward Astrid.
Then stopped.
Fear appeared.
Astrid noticed.
“What?”
Adrian's voice became quiet.
“Mrs. Voss.”
“Doctor.”
“You really don't remember.”
“Remember what?”
He laughed once, painfully.
“Elena.”
Lachlan stepped forward.
“What about her?”
Adrian looked at him.
“I knew your sister because she hired me.”
“For what?”
“To examine your father's medical records.”
Silence.
Lachlan's father had died almost fifteen years earlier.
Thea knew little about him.
“What did she find?” Lachlan asked.
“That his death wasn't natural.”
Astrid sat down.
“No.”
Adrian nodded.
“Your father didn't die from an aneurysm.”
Lachlan's face emptied.
“He was poisoned.”
Thea felt the room tilt.
First Elena.
Then perhaps Lachlan's father.
This conspiracy didn't begin three years ago.
It began decades earlier.
“Who knew?” Lachlan whispered.
“Elena.”
“Anyone else?”
“Graham Vale.”
Adrian swallowed.
“And one other person.”
Lachlan leaned closer.
“Who?”
Adrian looked directly at Astrid.
“Your husband.”
Astrid's dead husband.
Lachlan's grandfather.
The founder of Voss Meridian.
And suddenly the entire family empire looked less like a company.
May you like
It looked like a crime scene.
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