Chapter 18
Her eyes moved from Alexander to me.
“Mrs. Cole?” Alexander asked.
She nodded.
“I’m Claire.”
“I know.”
Her voice was tired but steady.
Margaret took a step forward. “Marian, you came.”
“I nearly didn’t.”
She looked at Alexander.
“Then I remembered what I promised myself.”
“What did you promise?” I asked.
“To tell the truth before I died.”
The words were not dramatic. That made them heavier.
Alexander glanced toward the security entrance. “How did you get here?”
“Your driver collected me from the station.”
He frowned. “I didn’t send anyone.”
Marian’s expression tightened.
“A man said he was from the Russo estate. He knew my name and showed me a message with your family seal.”
Alexander’s face became unreadable.
“Where is he?”
“He left after I entered the house.”
Nora crossed to the front doors and looked outside.
The guards remained stationed near the landing field. None appeared to have noticed anyone arrive.
Marian saw the worry on my face.
“He did not harm me,” she said quickly. “He was courteous. He seemed frightened, if anything.”
“Did he give you a name?” I asked.
“No. But he told me that if I wanted to speak with you, I had to come tonight.”
Alexander reached for his phone.
I touched his arm.
“Not yet.”
He looked at me.
“If we call security, we may alert whoever expected Marian to be here.”
“Someone brought her here,” he replied. “I need to know who.”
“We can ask her first.”
He lowered the phone.
Marian studied him with the quiet disappointment of someone who had known him as a child.
“You have your father’s habit of moving before you understand the room,” she said.
Alexander’s mouth tightened. “You worked for him.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew what he was doing?”
“I knew pieces. That is not the same as knowing the whole.”
“Then tell us the pieces.”
Marian looked at me.
“I would rather tell Claire.”
Alexander stepped aside.
I led Marian into the library. Margaret followed, while Alexander remained near the door. The room was warm, but Marian kept her coat on.
I poured tea. Her hands trembled slightly around the cup.
“I was your father-in-law’s executive secretary,” she began. “I managed correspondence, appointments, and certain private accounts. I believed my duties were administrative.”
“When did that change?”
“When I was asked to prepare a series of documents concerning you.”
Marian drew a breath.