Chapter 8 - The Initials on the Necklace
Audrey stared at the photograph Reed sent.
The engraving was unmistakable.
A.V.
Her initials.
But eight years earlier, she had never met Rebecca.
Or Dominic.
At least, that was what she believed.
She called her aunt Margaret.
After Audrey’s parents died, Margaret became the closest thing she had to a mother.
“Aunt Maggie, did you know Rebecca Sloan?”
Silence.
Too long.
Audrey closed her eyes.
“You did.”
Margaret whispered, “Yes.”
Audrey sat down.
“How?”
“Rebecca worked for your grandfather.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“What?”
“Briefly. Before you took over parts of the company.”
Audrey struggled to remember.
Eight years earlier she had been finishing graduate school and traveling frequently.
Her grandfather handled most business matters.
“Why have I never heard this?”
“Because your grandfather asked us not to discuss her after she disappeared.”
“Why?”
“He blamed himself.”
“For what?”
Margaret exhaled.
“Rebecca discovered irregularities in one of his investment accounts.”
Audrey knew before Margaret said the name.
“Richard Hale.”
“Yes.”
Richard had advised Audrey’s grandfather.
Rebecca discovered suspicious transfers.
She intended to report them.
Then she met Dominic.
Audrey felt nauseated.
The pattern was older than anyone realized.
“Did Grandpa know Dominic was Richard’s godson?”
“Eventually.”
“And the necklace?”
Margaret began crying.
“That was mine.”
Audrey froze.
“What?”
“I gave it to Rebecca.”
“Why are my initials on it?”
“They aren’t your initials.”
Audrey frowned.
“What?”
Margaret explained.
The engraving had been misunderstood.
A.V. did not mean Audrey Vale.
It meant Always Vigilant.
A phrase Audrey’s grandfather used with employees handling sensitive financial records.
Margaret had engraved it as a private joke.
Audrey exhaled.
The impossible connection disappeared.
But another emerged.
Rebecca had been investigating Richard before she became engaged to Dominic.
That changed everything.
Perhaps Dominic had not chosen Rebecca for her inheritance.
Perhaps he had chosen her because she knew too much.
And perhaps Audrey had been selected for both reasons.
Money.
And access to her grandfather’s remaining records.
Audrey remembered Dominic repeatedly asking about old archives.
Boxes.
Storage.
Documents.
She had assumed he was curious about family history.
Now she understood.
He had been searching.
For evidence.
That afternoon, investigators identified the remains.
Rebecca Sloan.
Her family was notified.
Audrey cried for a woman she never knew.
Not loudly.
She simply sat beside the hotel window and allowed tears to fall.
Rebecca had tried to leave.
She had prepared evidence.
She had hidden a bag.
She had trusted people who failed her.
Audrey could not change what happened eight years ago.
But she could make sure Rebecca was no longer treated like someone who simply disappeared.
Richard continued negotiating.
Dominic continued denying everything.
Victoria agreed to cooperate fully.
Natalie provided the photograph and key.
The case expanded.
Then Sarah discovered something in Audrey’s grandfather’s archived records.
A handwritten ledger.
One entry mentioned Richard Hale.
Beside it, Audrey’s grandfather had written:
If anything happens to me, audit R.H. immediately.
Audrey stared.
Her grandfather had died from a heart attack six years earlier.
Natural causes.
Documented.
Nothing suspicious.
Still, Richard had clearly worried him.
Audrey authorized investigators to examine every remaining file.
They found hidden transfers.
False investments.
Companies connected to Richard.
The amount stolen over fifteen years was enormous.
Dominic had not married Audrey merely for her assets.
Richard needed access to records capable of exposing an older fraud.
Audrey’s marriage had been a doorway.
Dominic was the key.
That evening, Reed visited.
“We believe Dominic was originally supposed to gain access to your grandfather’s archive.”
“And when he failed?”
“They adapted.”
“The forged invoices.”
“Yes.”
“And the insurance?”
Reed hesitated.
“That concerns us.”
Audrey looked at him.
“Say it.”
“We found messages suggesting Richard wanted you financially dependent, not dead.”
“And Dominic?”
“No equivalent reassurance.”
Audrey understood.
Richard was a criminal who preferred money.
Dominic’s violence was personal.
That distinction somehow made her husband more frightening.
“What happens now?”
“Charges proceed. Investigation continues.”
“And Rebecca?”
“We build the strongest case the evidence supports.”
Audrey nodded.
No dramatic promises.
No instant justice.
Evidence.
Again.
That night, Audrey finally returned to her house under police protection.
The dining room remained partially preserved.
She stood beside the table.
The silver tray was gone for evidence processing.
One wineglass remained.
The chair Dominic had occupied stood slightly crooked.
Audrey touched its back.
For years, the house had felt like his territory.
Now it felt empty.
Not peaceful yet.
But possible.
Mrs. Alvarez entered.
“Would you like me to make dinner?”
Audrey looked toward the kitchen.
Then smiled faintly.
“No.”
Mrs. Alvarez seemed worried.
Audrey continued.
“Sit with me.”
“Mrs. Vale—”
“Please.”
Audrey opened the refrigerator.
She found eggs.
Vegetables.
Cheese.
Nothing elegant.
She cooked two omelets.
They ate at the kitchen island.
For the first time in years, Audrey ate without wondering whether dinner was good enough.
Halfway through the meal, the doorbell rang.
An officer checked first.
Then Sarah entered carrying an envelope.
“What is it?” Audrey asked.
Sarah placed it on the counter.
“It came from Dominic.”
Audrey did not touch it.
“A letter?”
“Yes.”
“Read it.”
Sarah opened it.
Only one page.
Dominic had written:
You think Richard chose me to get to you. You still don’t understand. Ask your aunt who introduced Richard to your grandfather.
Audrey stared at the words.
She called Margaret immediately.
Her aunt answered.
Audrey asked the question.
Silence.
Then Margaret said a name Audrey never expected.
May you like
“Your father.”
And suddenly the corruption Audrey thought had entered her family through marriage appeared to have been waiting inside it all along.
