Chapter 3 - The Secret Behind Maria's Illness
I didn't sleep that night.
At three in the morning, I sat in my study staring at the photographs.
Victor Hale.
George Harland.
Maria.
Nora.
The pieces didn't fit.
Why would Victor care about my housekeeper?
Why would Harland use Maria against me?
And why had Maria's medical condition suddenly become important?
At seven, I called my private physician.
“Dr. Bennett.”
“Yes?”
“I need you to investigate Maria's medical records.”
There was silence.
“Is she seriously ill?”
“I don't know.”
“Then I'll need authorization.”
“You have it.”
Two hours later, he called.
“Luca, this is strange.”
“How?”
“Maria was diagnosed with severe respiratory inflammation.”
“I know.”
“No.”
His voice changed.
“She wasn't.”
I stood.
“What?”
“Her hospital records were altered.”
My jaw tightened.
“What was the original diagnosis?”
“Pneumonia.”
I frowned.
“That doesn't explain why she couldn't breathe.”
“It was aggravated by chemical exposure.”
I felt cold.
“What chemical?”
“Cleaning solvent.”
I looked toward the hallway.
The laundry room.
The chemicals.
“Could exposure have happened at work?”
“Yes.”
“Repeatedly?”
“Yes.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Was she poisoned?”
“Not intentionally, according to the current evidence.”
“Current evidence?”
“There are traces of industrial-grade solvent in her blood.”
I ended the call.
Then I called Marcus.
“Lock the laundry room.”
“Why?”
“Because I want every bottle photographed.”
He arrived within ten minutes.
We inspected everything.
Most bottles were normal.
Then Marcus found one hidden behind the dryer.
The label had been removed.
He sent it to the lab.
That afternoon, the result came back.
It was a concentrated industrial solvent.
Repeated exposure could cause serious respiratory damage.
I stared at the bottle.
Harland hadn't merely threatened Maria.
He had been making her sick.
I went upstairs.
Maria was awake.
“Nobody told me you were here.”
“I own the house.”
She smiled faintly.
“You're allowed.”
I sat beside her.
“Maria, I need you to answer one question.”
She became nervous.
“What?”
“Did Harland ever give you cleaning chemicals?”
She looked away.
“Yes.”
“Different from the normal supplies?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because he said you would blame me.”
My chest tightened.
“He said I would fire you?”
She nodded.
“He told me I was careless.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Sometimes.”
“What did he say?”
She hesitated.
“He said if I complained, Nora would be taken away.”
My blood froze.
“Taken away by whom?”
“I don't know.”
I stood.
“Maria.”
She looked at me.
“Tell me everything.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Three months ago, Harland asked me to sign something.”
“What?”
“A document saying I was responsible for any accidents involving household chemicals.”
I stared at her.
“Did you sign?”
“I was scared.”
“Where is it?”
“I don't know.”
Marcus entered.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We found the document.”
He handed it to me.
I read it.
Maria had supposedly accepted full liability for any injury caused by negligence.
The signature looked real.
But something was wrong.
I looked closer.
“Who witnessed this?”
Marcus answered.
“Victor Hale's attorney.”
I stared at him.
That was impossible.
“Harland was preparing to frame her.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
Marcus placed another file on the desk.
A lawsuit.
Against me.
The accusation was that my estate had exposed an employee to hazardous chemicals.
The plaintiff?
Maria.
The evidence?
The document.
The intended outcome?
A massive settlement.
I laughed without humor.
Harland was stealing from me and building a lawsuit against me.
But Victor still wasn't the real target.
I was.
Then Maria whispered,
“Mr. Vance?”
I looked at her.
“Why would they do this?”
I didn't answer.
Because I suddenly understood.
Victor didn't want my money.
He wanted my reputation.
He wanted to make me look like a criminal who abused his own employees.
And Harland was giving him everything he needed.
But there was one thing they hadn't planned for.
Nora.
Because the little girl had seen something.
I went downstairs.
She was sitting in the kitchen drawing with crayons.
I crouched beside her.
“Nora.”
She looked up.
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“Do you remember Mr. Harland going into the laundry room?”
She thought.
Then nodded.
“He goes there when Mama is sleeping.”
“What does he do?”
“He puts things in the bottles.”
My heart stopped.
“What things?”
She shrugged.
“Little white packets.”
“Where?”
She pointed toward the pantry.
“Behind the blue box.”
Marcus and I looked at each other.
I stood.
“Find it.”
Ten minutes later, we found three packets.
All labeled with chemical warnings.
One contained the same solvent found in Maria's blood.
Harland hadn't just been stealing.
May you like
He had been poisoning my employee.
And a three-year-old had witnessed it.
