Chapter 7 - Cassandra’s Perfect Smile
The police took Mrs. Hargrove away shortly after sunset.
Cassandra went with an attorney rather than handcuffs.
That distinction infuriated Emily less than Vincent expected.
“She’ll answer questions,” he said.
Emily watched through the library window as the final car disappeared.
“People like her always answer questions.”
Vincent looked at her.
“They just don’t always answer them honestly.”
He understood.
The second ledger had already created a financial investigation.
Hargrove’s staff deductions.
Kickbacks.
Unauthorized vendor arrangements.
Cassandra’s proposed management takeover.
But the unexplained list of twelve dates remained.
Vincent placed it on the desk.
Emily sat opposite him.
“These are all pediatric appointment weeks.”
“How do you know?”
“I prepare some of Enzo’s travel bags.”
Vincent opened his calendar.
She was right.
Every date fell within forty-eight hours of a pediatric visit.
“What would someone gain by changing nursery records before doctor visits?”
Emily shook her head.
“Maybe making everything look normal.”
“Why wouldn’t it be normal?”
Neither spoke.
Vincent hated the question.
Enzo appeared healthy.
His pediatrician had never raised serious concerns.
But had the doctor been receiving accurate information?
He called immediately.
Dr. Samuel Price answered on the third ring.
“Vincent?”
“I need a favor.”
“At this hour?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I need copies of every weight, feeding note, and growth measurement for Enzo since birth.”
A pause.
“Is he all right?”
“Yes.”
“As far as I know.”
Another pause.
“I’ll send them.”
“Did anyone from my household ever contact you without me?”
“Of course. Nora sends weekly summaries.”
Vincent and Emily exchanged a look.
“Anyone else?”
“Cassandra called twice.”
Vincent’s voice became careful.
“Why?”
“She said you were worried about reflux.”
“I wasn’t.”
Silence.
Dr. Price continued.
“She also asked whether slight feeding reductions were normal during growth transitions.”
“When?”
Dr. Price gave a date.
One on the list.
Vincent felt sick.
“Send everything.”
The records arrived twenty minutes later.
Emily and Vincent compared them to the nursery logs.
At first, the differences looked minor.
Five ounces reported instead of four.
A completed bottle when only half had been consumed.
Longer naps.
Fewer crying episodes.
But over time, the pattern became obvious.
Somebody had been making Enzo’s routine look easier than it was.
“Why?” Emily whispered.
Vincent thought about Cassandra.
She wanted a perfect household.
A perfect engagement.
A perfect public image.
Had a demanding infant simply become inconvenient?
“That’s insane,” he said aloud.
Emily looked up.
“What?”
Vincent shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“No. Say it.”
He hesitated.
“I’m wondering whether Cassandra wanted Enzo to appear unusually easy to manage.”
Emily considered it.
“For what?”
“She hated disruption.”
“That isn’t a motive.”
“No.”
Vincent rubbed his forehead.
“There’s something missing.”
Lily appeared in the doorway wearing pajamas.
Emily frowned.
“You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I tried.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“I know.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Lily walked in carrying her rabbit clip.
“Enzo is awake.”
Both adults stood.
“He’s crying?”
“No. Talking.”
“Talking?”
“Baby talking.”
They went upstairs.
Enzo lay in his crib making soft sounds toward the ceiling.
Vincent lifted him.
His son immediately grabbed his tie.
For the first time all day, something uncomplicated happened.
Vincent laughed.
Emily smiled.
Lily climbed onto a chair.
“He likes you.”
“I’m his father.”
“Sometimes babies don’t like people just because they’re family.”
Vincent looked at her.
“That sounds like something your mother said.”
Emily covered her face.
“I have no idea where she hears these things.”
“Everywhere,” Lily said.
Vincent rocked Enzo.
Then Lily pointed toward a shelf.
“That box moved.”
Emily looked.
“What box?”
“The blue one.”
A decorative blue storage box sat beside blankets.
“How do you know?”
“It used to be under the books.”
Vincent handed Enzo to Emily and opened it.
Inside were spare pacifiers, wipes, and sealed medical syringes for administering prescribed drops.
Nothing strange.
Then he noticed the bottom.
It was false.
He lifted the panel.
Beneath it lay a small USB drive.
Emily whispered, “What is that?”
Vincent called Daniel.
The security chief brought a laptop disconnected from the mansion network.
The drive contained folders.
Dates.
Videos.
Nora.
Someone had recorded nursery footage privately.
Vincent opened one.
Cassandra entered the nursery late at night.
No gloves.
No makeup.
No audience.
She stood over Enzo’s crib.
For one moment, Vincent expected to see cruelty.
Instead, Cassandra cried.
She touched the crib railing.
Then whispered something.
The microphone barely caught it.
Daniel increased the volume.
“I can’t do this again.”
Vincent stared.
Again?
Another file.
Cassandra arguing with Nora.
“Do not call Vincent every time he cries.”
“He’s the father.”
“He has a company to run.”
“He asked to be notified.”
“He doesn’t need to know everything.”
A third video.
Mrs. Hargrove.
“You promised Miss Vale the household would be calm.”
Nora replied, “Babies aren’t calm.”
Hargrove: “Then make the records calm.”
Emily closed her eyes.
There it was.
The falsification began as appearance management.
Then escalated.
But the first video still made no sense.
Cassandra saying again.
Vincent opened another file.
An unfamiliar woman appeared.
She wore medical scrubs.
She entered the nursery when Enzo was six weeks old.
Vincent had never seen her.
She checked the baby.
Spoke with Cassandra.
Then handed her an envelope.
Daniel paused the image.
“Who is she?”
Vincent shook his head.
Emily leaned closer.
“I’ve seen her.”
“Where?”
“At a Vale charity event.”
“What does she do?”
“I don’t know.”
Lily, sitting on the floor, suddenly said, “Baby doctor.”
All three adults looked at her.
“How do you know?” Emily asked.
“She had a badge.”
Vincent enlarged the frame.
The badge became barely readable.
Mara Ellison, RN.
Daniel searched the name.
His expression changed.
“What?”
“She worked at St. Catherine’s maternity center.”
Vincent knew the hospital.
Enzo had been born there.
“When?”
Daniel looked at him.
“Until three months ago.”
Vincent stared at Cassandra on the frozen screen.
The dates.
The altered records.
The secret nurse.
The sentence: I can’t do this again.
The case was no longer only about his household.
It reached back to the hospital where his son was born.
May you like
And suddenly Vincent understood that Cassandra’s perfect smile had been hiding something long before Emily ever found those staffing papers.
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