Chapter 37: Evelyn Runs

Evelyn Whitmore disappeared two hours before police arrived with questions.

Her passport was missing. So were several diamond pieces, three hard drives, and half a million dollars from a private account Richard claimed not to know existed.

Scarlett received the call during physical therapy.

She was standing between the parallel bars when Grace said, 'Evelyn ran.'

Scarlett's knees weakened. Dr. Cross reached for her, but Scarlett held the bars tighter.

'Where?' she asked.

'We are tracking flights. Alexander's team is already moving.'

Alexander was not in the room, but Scarlett could feel the shape of his response. Efficient. Merciless. Afraid for her beneath all of it.

Victoria was found at the Whitmore estate, hysterical and abandoned.

Scarlett agreed to see her that evening under police supervision.

Victoria looked smaller without her mother's shadow behind her. Her makeup was gone. Her hands shook around a paper cup of water.

'She left me,' Victoria said.

Scarlett did not soften. 'You are surprised?'

'I thought she would take me with her.'

'Evelyn takes what protects Evelyn.'

Victoria began to cry then, ugly and real. 'I did not know about your mother. Not until later. I heard things, but I was a child.'

'And my accident?'

Victoria's sobs stopped.

Scarlett waited.

'I heard her on the phone,' Victoria whispered. 'Before your birthday that year. She said the trust problem would be solved before you turned twenty-eight.'

'Who was she speaking to?'

'Victor Hale.'

Scarlett closed her eyes briefly.

There it was.

Victoria leaned forward. 'I can help you. I know where she keeps backups. She has a storage unit under another name.'

'Why tell me?'

Victoria wiped her face. 'Because she left me to burn.'

It was not morality. It was revenge.

Scarlett understood that better than she wanted to.

By midnight, Alexander's men found the storage unit in Brooklyn.

Inside were passports, cash, photos, and a black ledger filled with payments.

On the final page was a name Scarlett had not expected.

Richard Whitmore.

Not as victim. Not as fool.

As payer.