Chapter 7 - THE MAN AT THE GATE
Victor Sloane entered the mansion carrying a leather briefcase. He was
in his sixties, neatly dressed, with silver hair and the smooth manner
of a man accustomed to being welcomed.
He looked at Roman first.
“Your mother would be disappointed to see what you’ve done with her
house.”
Roman did not offer him a seat.
“My mother would be disappointed to see what you did with her charity.”
Sloane’s gaze moved to the documents on the table. His expression barely
changed.
“You’ve been looking through old records.”
“We found the fund charter.”
“Those papers are incomplete.”
“We found the withdrawals.”
“Accounting errors.”
“We found the payments to Caleb.”
At that, Sloane’s eyes shifted toward me.
“So this is the woman.”
I stood straighter.
“My name is Maya Turner.”
“I know who you are.”
“Then you know I never agreed to have my identity used.”
Sloane sighed. “Your former husband made poor decisions. I had no
control over his personal behavior.”
“You paid him.”
“I paid for information.”
“You paid him to find a music box.”
Sloane’s face hardened. “You have no idea what that object contains.”
Roman stepped forward. “We know enough.”
Sloane opened his briefcase and removed a folder. He said the fund had
been created with money from businesses that were never fully
legitimate. He argued that the money belonged to the family, not the
recipients.
Elena rolled closer.
“My mother created that fund because she wanted people to receive help
without being questioned about their circumstances.”
“Your mother was sentimental,” Sloane said.
“She was kind.”
“Kindness is expensive.”
Elena’s voice was steady. “So is cruelty.”
Sloane looked at her wheelchair. “You should be resting.”
“I have rested for three years.”
The room went quiet.
Elena placed the music box on the table and turned the key. The melody
filled the room. She sang the first line softly, then stopped. Her voice
trembled.
I sat beside her.
“Count with me,” I whispered.
She took a breath. Then another.
She began again.
This time, she reached the end of the phrase.
Roman lowered his head. For the first time since I had met him, he
looked completely unguarded.
Sloane watched the scene with irritation.
“Sentiment won’t change the records.”
“No,” Roman said. “Evidence will.”
Daniel entered with two investigators and the family’s attorney.
Sloane’s accounts had been frozen pending review. The documents in the
west staircase matched the original charter and established a trail of
unauthorized transfers.
Sloane tried to leave.
The investigators asked him to stay.
He turned toward Roman. “You think this makes you a better man?”
Roman looked at his sister.
“No,” he said. “It makes me responsible for what happens next.”
Sloane was escorted out for questioning. He was not dragged, threatened,
or harmed. For once, the truth would have to stand without the family’s
shadow covering it.
After he was gone, Elena looked at me.
“Can we dance?”
I smiled.
May you like
“Of course.”
Roman stayed by the doorway, listening as the music box played again.
