CHAPTER ELEVEN

Elijah is the only one who sees through my veneer of happiness the next morning. As we walk through the grounds, he slows down to allow the others to move on ahead, and when they're gone, he says, "I heard you cry out last night. Is everything all right?"

"Fine," I insist. "I have night terrors occasionally. I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

He frowns and looks so much a man that I have to remind myself I'm speaking to a child. "I'm not worried about myself; I'm worried about you. Is it because I showed you the tapes?"

A chill runs through me. I stop and look at him seriously. "Elijah, you must not show those tapes to anyone. Not even the police. Not yet."

"Not yet?"

I kick myself inwardly. "Just don't show them."

A shrewd look crosses his face. "You are looking into Dad's death. Isabella told me you were, but I wasn't sure if she was right."

"Don't concern yourself with me," I say firmly. "You must protect yourself and your brother and sister.

I realize my mistake too late. His eyes widen, and now he looks very much a young and vulnerable child. "Are we in danger?"

I sigh. "No. But it would be better for you to leave this alone."

His face screws up in anger. "Someone murdered my Dad. I can't just leave that alone."

"I know." I sigh again. "But you have to…" how should I put this? "Please just trust me. I know this is hard, but it's better for you to stay out of this for now. I don't… I need to know if I'm right before I decide how to proceed."

I hate that Elijah's involved in this, but he would be involved whether I was here or not. The best I can do is convince him not to come forward with what he knows until I have enough information to go to the authorities.

And now I am committed to seeing this through. With Elijah definitely involved and Isabella probably, I can't back away from this. I am charged with caring for the children, and that means I must be the one to investigate this murder.

No turning back now.

He nods and gives me a grateful smile. "All right. Be careful, please."

" You be careful."

I hear a car pull into the driveway and turn to see a flashy and expensive sports sedan come to a stop on the porch. From this distance, it's impossible to recognize the woman who gets out of the car, but I have a feeling I know who it is.

"Keep an eye on the other two," I say. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He looks toward the house and frowns. "Elena."

"I'm not sure," I say, a rather pointless lie.

"I am." He looks at me again. "I mean it. Be careful."

I smile and nod, then head to the house.

I hear the conversation from the porch. I step closer to the door to eavesdrop, realizing as I do that it's risky behavior. If I'm seen, I will have no excuse for loitering on the porch while the children play outside.

As I suspect, the stranger is Elena. "It'll be best if you leave these matters to me. The capital structure is a complicated thing, and…"

"It's not complicated."

That's Cecilia. She seems tired, beleaguered, but she's clearly not going to tolerate the condescending tone in Elena's voice. I like that. Her voice isn't exactly angry but she's firm. "The capital structure denotes ownership. The venture has only common stock, no preferred stock. I'm quite capable of voting my position."

"Jonathon's position," Elena says testily.

I expect that will change Cecilia's tone. Elena corrects herself before Cecilia can respond, though. I hope it's because of an angry look from Cecilia. "I'm sorry. I've lost my partner. I know that's nothing compared to what you've lost."

She doesn't sound sorry at all. She sounds rehearsed but poorly rehearsed. She memorized the lines but never thought about how to deliver them. "But the fact remains that Jonathon was qualified to make decisions for the company and…" The condescending superiority is back. I imagine her gently shrugging and gesturing in an arrogant way of helping Cecilia accept the truth.

"Whether or not you feel I'm qualified to make decisions," Cecilia says, "I am entitled to. The stock is mine, which means the votes are mine. You won't receive a proxy from me. If that's the only topic of discussion you have in mind today, then I'm pleased to say that we've been very productive and cleared up the meeting in no time at all."

"You need to be reasonable, Cecilia!" Elena says.

"I think I prefer Mrs. Ashford."

I nearly applaud at that. I'm not so sure how wise it is for her to twist the knife, though. If Elena is Johnathan's killer, then Cecilia's pride and fortitude won't save her.

"If you're not going to be reasonable, Cecilia , then I'll be forced to take more decisive action."

And that's more than I can handle. I will not tolerate a direct threat to Miss Cecilia. I take a deep breath and enter the house. I run straight into Elena, who has attempted to storm dramatically back to her car. She has a terrible scowl on her face as she looks at me. I meet her with a hard expression but say sweetly, "Oh, excuse me."

I think her intention was to leave but now that I'm here, a reminder of the kids, she stays. She turns to Cecilia and says, "How do you think you can handle important business decisions when you have so many responsibilities here at home?"

Cecilia looks tired. I answer for her, even though it's not my place. "Don't worry, Miss Serrano. Mrs. Ashford never lets the affairs of the house or the business interfere with important decisions about the children." Then I twist the knife unwisely. "Besides, I'm always here ensuring that the children—and Miss Cecilia—are cared for and watched closely."

Elena opens her mouth to respond but processes what I've said before the words come out. She closes her mouth, glares at me, and then rushes past me and out of the house.

I stand there for a moment and realize I've painted myself into a corner. I have no reason to be here at all. "Mrs. Ashford," I say, "I…" I'm not particularly good at lying at the moment.

"You came here to rescue me, didn't you?" I can hear the laughter in her voice. "And now you're trying to come up with something to say to pretend you had a different purpose."

I can't hide that I'm impressed with her. "Was it my tone of voice?"

"Well, you called me Mrs. Ashford again. And you held your ground against Elena. You were here to deal with her, not to tell me about the children."

"I'm sorry," I say, "I didn't mean to interfere."

She's still smiling as she says, "That's exactly what you meant to do, Mary." She lets out a sigh of resignation and says, "Jonathon was right about that woman."

I'm not certain she intends to say more, but I feel like she's on the cusp of extending her confidence to me. If Elijah has information that could help me solve this case, then Cecilia must have far more, so I just wait politely for her to continue.

She does. "He intended to oust her from the company. There are buyback provisions for everyone's stock. I didn't understand all of it. I've had to give myself an education. The truth is, I wish she was anyone other than Elena Serrano because I'd rather hand the decisions to someone else."

"I don't think so, Cecilia. You don't want to hand the decisions to someone else. You just need time to recover from your loss first."

She nods slowly. "You hired me so that I could take care of your children. You didn't hire me to hand the decisions to anyone else."

"I think I'm coming to rely on these talks," she says.

Her chuckle is the oddest thing. It seems like a combination of gratitude, resignation, admiration, and bitterness. I suppose such a combination isn't actually all that odd for a woman who's just lost her husband.

"Well," she says, "I have some phone calls to make. I'd rather put out whatever fires Elena intends to create before she creates them."

I should just let her go, but I need more information. So far, the only evidence I have that Elena could be the murderer is her aggressive demeanor toward Cecilia and Johnathan's possibly paranoid speculations.

"Was Elena always like this?" I ask.

She chuckles bitterly. "I think she was. Johnathan didn't. When they met…" she chuckles again, not quite as bitterly. "Actually, I thought they were having an affair."

I'm genuinely surprised to hear that. "An affair? With her?"

She laughs again, and all the bitterness is gone. "You're very sweet, Mary. But men are attracted to more than just physical beauty. Elena is very intelligent and like I said, I've had to take a crash course in business after Johnathan's death. He never said it out loud, but I could tell he wished that I was a little more knowledgeable about what he did for a living. He used to talk to her for hours on end.

"It wasn't until she gained real power that she showed her true colors. She would go behind Johnathan's back and try to convince other officers in the company that Johnathan wasn't qualified to make decisions. She would smile to his face and spread rumors behind his back. When he confronted her, she would deny everything, but eventually, she couldn't deny it anymore.

"Then she got vicious. She tried on three separate occasions to have the board vote him off. She somehow discovered he was seeking treatment with…" she catches herself, unaware that I know of his sessions with Dr. Harrow. "Well, she became aware of some proprietary information and tried to raise doubts about Johnathan's competence again. It didn't work. The third time, it backfired on her badly enough that she actually had to beg Johnathan to keep her job."

She frowns. "I begged Johnathan not to defend her. I saw right through her crocodile tears.

"But Johnathan was kind." Her frown fades, and once more she only looks tired. "That was his greatest weakness."

"He allowed her to stay?"

"Worse. He spoke in favor of her to the board. They were ready to cut her out, but he…" she lifts her hands and lets them drop. "I don't know. Maybe he just couldn't admit that the woman he saw so much potential in had fooled him all along. Anyway, she's still here, and Johnathan isn't. And I don't know how long I can hold on."

"As long as you need to," I insist. "For the children's sake, you must."

She looks past my shoulder at the door. "It's the children that make me wonder if I should just let this all go. We have money. We have comfort. We don't need the business."

"You must for the memory of their father."

A sneer comes to her face. It's an ugly look and not one I'm accustomed to seeing on her. "Oh yes. Their dear father."

She catches herself again and smiles at me. "Well, like I said. I need to make those phone calls. You should return to the children."

It's spoken softly, but I know a command when I hear one. I smile at her and say, "Of course. Good luck, ma'am."

I head outside. The children greet me with laughter, but the trees reach toward me as menacingly as they ever did.