Chapter 6 - THE GOLD WATCH
The Whitmore estate was located in the wealthiest zip code in the county.
It wasn’t a house; it was a fortress of wrought iron gates and manicured hedges. Tonight, the driveway was lined with luxury cars.
The annual school fundraiser.
I parked my beat-up sedan three blocks away, hidden in the shadows of heavy oak trees.
“Stay low,” I told Lily as we walked through the damp grass toward the rear of the estate.
I knew the layout of the property because David used to brag about attending these parties during our marriage. The caterers always left the side gate open near the kitchens.
We slipped through the gate, blending into the chaos of waiters carrying silver trays of champagne.
Music drifted from the massive outdoor patio. Hundreds of parents in expensive suits and evening gowns laughed and clinked glasses.
I pulled Lily behind a large stone fountain, out of sight.
“I need you to be incredibly brave right now,” I whispered to her. “Can you do that?”
She nodded, gripping my hand tightly.
“Do you see Mason anywhere?”
Lily peeked around the edge of the fountain. She scanned the crowd.
“There,” she pointed.
Sitting on a low stone wall near the edge of the garden, away from the adults, was Mason Whitmore. He looked miserable. He was staring at the ground, kicking the dirt with his expensive dress shoes.
“I’m going to go talk to him,” I said. “Wait right here.”
I stepped out from behind the fountain and walked quickly toward the boy.
Before I could reach him, a hand clamped tightly around my upper arm.
I gasped, turning sharply.
It was Eleanor Whitmore. Mason’s mother.
She wore a stunning emerald green gown, her neck dripping with diamonds. But her eyes were cold, calculating slits.
“Mrs. Bennett,” Eleanor said, her grip painfully tight. “You have a lot of nerve showing up at my home after stealing from my husband.”
“I didn’t steal anything,” I shot back, trying to yank my arm away, but she held firm.
“Don’t play games,” Eleanor hissed, stepping closer. “My husband told me you stole a flash drive containing proprietary school documents. And now you’re here to cause a scene. Security is already on their way to escort you to the police.”
I stared at her.
Proprietary documents.
I suddenly realized something.
Eleanor didn’t know.
Her husband hadn’t told her the truth about the structural report. He had lied to his own wife.
“Eleanor,” I said, dropping my voice. “Did your husband tell you what was on that drive?”
She scoffed. “Financial records. Nothing that concerns a charity case like you.”
“It wasn’t financial records,” I said, looking her dead in the eye. “It was a structural engineering report. The new science wing your husband built is failing. The eastern wall is going to collapse.”
Eleanor froze. Her grip on my arm loosened slightly.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I? Your son was in that wing today. My daughter was in that wing today. Your husband cut corners on the concrete, and now he’s trying to cover it up before the building kills our children.”
Eleanor stared at me, the color draining from her perfectly made-up face.
She turned her head slowly, looking at the patio where her husband, Arthur Whitmore, was laughing with Principal Coleman, holding a glass of scotch.
Then she looked down at her wrist.
She was wearing a heavy gold watch.
She unclasped it and handed it to me.
“What is this?” I asked.
“A bribe,” Eleanor whispered, her voice shaking with sudden, terrifying fury. “For the security guard who stops you at the front gate. You have exactly five minutes to get out of here before the police arrive.”
She looked at her son sitting on the wall.
“I’ll handle my husband,” she said.
May you like
She turned and marched toward the patio.
I ran to Lily, grabbed her hand, and sprinted for the front gates.
