Chapter 2 - Seven Missing Diamonds and One Perfect LieBy morning, Rowan's humiliation had become public entertainment.
A video of the search circulated across social media. Someone had filmed her standing barefoot while Leah examined her shoes.
The caption read:
BILLIONAIRE'S WIFE SUSPECTED IN $14 MILLION DIAMOND THEFT.
Within hours, strangers were discussing her childhood, her father's repair shop, and the possibility that she had married Graham for money.
Mercer House issued a statement.
It described Rowan as a person of interest in an ongoing internal investigation.
Graham called twenty-three times.
She answered the twenty-fourth.
“Tell me you didn't approve that statement,” she said.
“Rowan, the lawyers drafted it.”
“Did you approve it?”
Silence.
That was enough.
“I want a divorce.”
Graham inhaled sharply.
“Don't say that because you're angry.”
“I'm not angry anymore.”
“Then what are you?”
Rowan looked at the wedding ring lying on her father's workbench.
“Finished.”
She ended the call.
At noon, Leah arrived at the workshop.
She brought a laptop and a sealed envelope.
“I shouldn't be here,” Leah admitted.
“Then why are you?”
“Because I've spent eighteen years investigating thefts, and I know the difference between a suspect and someone being framed.”
She opened the laptop.
The vault access log showed Rowan entering at 7:42 p.m.
The interior camera went dark at 7:44.
The diamonds were reported missing at 7:49.
But Leah had found another record.
At 7:38, four minutes before Rowan entered, Margaret's executive access card had opened the private service corridor.
“That corridor connects to the vault's ventilation maintenance room,” Leah explained.
“Could someone remove the stones from there?”
“Not through the ventilation system. But the maintenance room contains a secondary emergency access panel.”
“Who knew about it?”
“Margaret. Graham. Two former engineers.”
Rowan studied the screen.
“Why wasn't this in the official report?”
“Because Margaret ordered me to exclude it.”
Rowan looked up.
Leah continued.
“She told me the information was irrelevant. When I refused, she placed me on administrative leave.”
“Then why haven't you gone to the police?”
“I have. But there's something you need to understand before this becomes public.”
Leah slid a photograph across the table.
It showed a younger Margaret Mercer standing beside Eleanor Ashcroft at a private reception.
Between them stood Arthur Vale.
Rowan's father.
She stared.
“That isn't possible.”
The photograph was dated twenty-four years earlier.
Her father had never mentioned knowing Margaret.
He had certainly never said he knew Eleanor Ashcroft.
Leah pointed to a small object in Eleanor's hand.
A diamond pendant.
Eight stones formed a circle.
Not seven.
Eight.
Rowan felt the room tilt.
“My father knew.”
Leah nodded.
“And I think that's why someone wanted you blamed.”
That evening, Rowan received a package without a return address.
Inside was a copy of an old newspaper clipping.
The headline read:
ASHCROFT HEIRESS PRESUMED DEAD AFTER HARBOR ACCIDENT.
Someone had circled one sentence.
Her personal jeweler, Arthur Vale, declined to comment.
Beneath the clipping was a handwritten warning.
YOUR FATHER KEPT SOMETHING THAT BELONGS TO US. RETURN IT BEFORE YOU LOSE MORE THAN YOUR MARRIAGE.
Rowan looked toward the workshop window.
A black sedan was parked across the street.
Its engine was running.
May you like
When she reached for her phone, the sedan's headlights switched on.
Then it drove away.
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