Chapter 3 - The Bracelet
Detective Harlan separated us within five minutes.
Vanessa went to the library with one uniformed officer.
Dominic stayed in the ballroom with the guests.
Marco took the bracelet and my empty delivery bag into a side room.
I was brought into a breakfast room so elegant that the chairs probably cost more than my monthly rent.
Rainwater crawled down the windows.
My wet jacket clung to my shoulders.
My cheek had begun to swell.
Harlan sat across from me and placed his notebook on the table.
"Start from when you arrived."
"You first."
He looked tired already.
"That's not how this works."
"Then arrest me."
"Nobody said you're under arrest."
"Vanessa did."
"Vanessa says a lot of things."
I leaned forward.
"You knew my father's name."
Harlan rubbed one thumb along the edge of his notebook.
"Your father came up in an old investigation."
Every nerve in my body woke up.
"What investigation?"
"I can't discuss a closed case casually."
"He died in an industrial accident."
"That's what the final report said."
The word final lodged in my head.
"What did the first report say?"
Harlan's eyes lifted to mine.
That answer was written all over his silence.
"There was another report."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
He closed the notebook.
"Ms. Carter, tell me what happened tonight."
I wanted to flip the table.
Instead, I told him everything.
I told him about the first delivery in the rain.
I told him about the hundred-dollar tip.
I told him about Vanessa asking what my hands had touched.
I told him about the gloves I bought.
I told him about seven weeks of repeated requests.
Then I told him about the cake.
The slap.
The insult about my mother.
The second raised hand.
My wrist block.
The shove.
The controlled takedown.
Harlan interrupted there.
"Controlled?"
"She has no bruising from the fall because I kept her from dropping full weight."
"You trained?"
"A long time ago."
"What discipline?"
"Taekwondo first, then kickboxing and judo."
His eyebrows rose.
"Competition level?"
"State and regional."
"And you quit?"
"When my father died."
Harlan looked down.
I noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You keep doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Looking guilty every time I mention my dad."
Before he could answer, the door opened.
Marco entered.
Harlan frowned.
"We're talking."
"Dominic asked me to bring this."
Marco placed a clear plastic evidence pouch on the table.
Inside was the diamond bracelet.
Harlan put on gloves.
"Did anyone else touch it?"
"Dominic picked it up from the floor."
"Vanessa?"
"Obviously before tonight."
"And the bag?"
"In the adjoining room."
Harlan lifted the bracelet.
Then he stopped.
One clasp link was bent.
"This looks damaged."
Marco nodded.
"I noticed."
I leaned closer.
A small thread clung to the clasp.
Dark blue.
My jacket was black.
My delivery gloves were clear.
Vanessa's dress was cream.
Harlan saw me looking.
"Don't touch."
"I wasn't going to."
"Recognize the fabric?"
"No."
Marco did not speak.
I looked at him.
"You do."
His jaw tightened.
"A lot of people wear blue."
"That's not an answer."
Harlan looked between us.
"Who was near the delivery bag?"
Marco hesitated.
"House staff."
"Names."
"About twelve people moved through that corridor."
"Guests?"
"A few."
"Vanessa?"
Marco's eyes shifted to the window.
There it was.
"She went through the corridor around nine twenty."
I stared at him.
"Before I got here."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you say that in the ballroom?"
"I wasn't asked."
"That's a convenient rule."
Harlan leaned back.
"What was she wearing at nine twenty?"
"The cream dress."
"Any blue?"
Marco shook his head.
Then the door opened again.
This time Dominic entered alone.
"A guest is missing."
Harlan stood.
"You said nobody left."
"One did before you arrived."
"Who?"
"Elliot Crane."
The name meant nothing to me.
It meant something to Harlan.
His expression sharpened.
"Whitmore's finance director?"
Dominic nodded.
I looked from one man to the other.
"Whitmore as in Vanessa Whitmore?"
Dominic pulled out a chair but did not sit.
"Her father's company."
"And he left when?"
"Nine thirty-four."
My breath caught.
Three minutes after I was on my knees in cake.
Harlan asked, "How?"
"Kitchen exit."
"Cameras?"
"Offline."
"Security log?"
"Door sensor recorded it."
Harlan swore under his breath.
Marco's phone buzzed.
He checked the screen.
"We found his coat."
Dominic looked at him.
"Where?"
"Guest closet."
"He left without it in this weather?"
"Apparently."
I looked again at the dark blue thread caught in the bracelet clasp.
"What color was his suit?"
All three men turned toward me.
Marco answered.
"Midnight blue."
Nobody spoke.
Harlan picked up the evidence pouch.
"I want the coat."
Marco left.
Dominic stayed.
I could feel questions crowding the room.
My father.
Elliot Crane.
Vanessa's knowledge about my mother.
The cameras.
The bracelet.
I looked at Dominic.
"Why did you request me?"
He frowned.
"I didn't."
"The delivery app said preferred driver requested."
"Vanessa handles household deliveries."
"Every time?"
"Most of them."
"So she requested me."
"Apparently."
"For seven weeks."
Dominic's face became thoughtful.
"Yes."
"Why?"
He looked toward the closed door to the hall.
"I don't know."
I laughed once, bitterly.
"You own half of Chicago and don't know why your fiancée keeps summoning the same delivery driver to your house?"
"I don't own half of Chicago."
"That's the part you object to?"
For the first time, the corner of his mouth almost moved.
Then it vanished.
"I noticed you here more than once."
"And?"
"I assumed Vanessa liked the service."
"Vanessa doesn't like service."
"What does she like?"
"Having someone below her."
The sentence hung between us.
Harlan looked away as if he had no interest in becoming part of whatever passed between Dominic and me.
Then Marco returned carrying a clear garment bag.
Inside was a dark blue tuxedo jacket.
The right cuff had a loose thread.
Harlan moved the bracelet pouch beside it.
The colors matched closely enough to make my skin prickle.
"Where's Crane now?" Harlan asked.
Dominic shook his head.
"His phone is off."
"Driver?"
"Car is still here."
"So somebody picked him up."
"Or he walked."
I looked outside at the freezing rain.
"In patent leather shoes?"
Dominic looked at me.
"Probably not."
Harlan's phone rang.
He answered, listened, and wrote something down.
Then his eyes moved to me.
"That was dispatch."
My stomach tightened.
"What now?"
"A dark SUV was seen leaving the service road around nine thirty-five."
"License plate?"
"Obscured."
Vanessa's voice sounded from the hall.
"Dominic?"
The door opened before anyone invited her in.
She had changed clothes.
The cream dress was gone.
Now she wore a pale gray silk robe over another dress, and her makeup had been repaired.
Her eyes went straight to the blue jacket on the table.
She stopped.
Only for a fraction of a second.
But I saw it.
"What's that?" she asked.
Harlan watched her closely.
"Elliot Crane's coat."
"Why is it here?"
"Because he left without it."
Vanessa folded her arms.
"Elliot does strange things when he drinks."
Harlan lifted the bracelet pouch.
"There's a thread in the clasp that may have come from this jacket."
Vanessa's face remained perfect.
"So?"
"So perhaps Mr. Crane handled your bracelet."
"Why would he?"
"That's what I'd like to ask him."
Vanessa looked at Dominic.
"This has nothing to do with her stealing from me."
"Maybe," Dominic said.
"Maybe?"
"You asked for facts."
"I asked for the police."
"You got both."
Her gaze moved to me.
Hatred returned.
"She's enjoying this."
I was so tired I almost smiled.
"I have frosting in my hair, my face is swollen, and a detective just told me my dead father was part of an investigation nobody told my family about."
I stepped closer.
"This is not my idea of a good night."
Vanessa flinched at the mention of my father.
Again.
Harlan saw it.
This time he did not hide his reaction.
"Ms. Whitmore, did you know Daniel Carter?"
"No."
Too fast.
"Did your father?"
"I have no idea."
"Did Elliot Crane?"
"How would I know?"
Harlan's phone buzzed again.
He checked the message.
His face went blank.
"We found Crane."
Dominic asked, "Where?"
Harlan looked at me before answering.
"Northwestern Lake Forest Hospital."
"What happened?"
"He walked into the emergency department ten minutes ago with a broken nose and a concussion."
Vanessa's mouth opened.
Harlan continued.
"He says a woman attacked him outside this house."
I stared at him.
"What woman?"
Harlan's expression told me before his mouth did.
May you like
"He says it was Avery Carter."
