Chapter 3 - THE PARTY WAS A TRAP Victoire’s words followed Evelyn long after the police filled the villa.
Victoire’s words followed Evelyn long after the police filled the villa.
“I pushed exactly the right one.”
At first Evelyn assumed it was arrogance.
Then investigators found the camera.
It was hidden inside a decorative lantern overlooking the pool.
The camera had been aimed directly at the place where Evelyn fell.
Not at the party.
Not at the mansion.
At Evelyn.
Detective Nathan Cole placed photographs across the library table shortly after midnight.
“You were being watched before the incident.”
Evelyn studied the images.
One showed her arriving through the service entrance.
Another showed her carrying drinks.
Another showed her speaking to Marcus near the catering vans.
Someone had been documenting her movements.
“Victoire knew who I was.”
Nathan looked toward the interrogation room.
“Possibly.”
“Then why humiliate me publicly?”
“Maybe she wanted you angry.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Why?”
“Angry people make mistakes.”
That sentence stayed with her.
Henri had been transported to St. Augustine Medical Center under armed protection.
Doctors said he had been sedated repeatedly for months.
The dosages had kept him weak and confused.
Someone had wanted him alive.
But powerless.
That distinction mattered.
Evelyn walked toward the window.
The pool lights were still glowing outside.
Broken champagne glasses had been removed, but one silver tray remained near the water.
Her tray.
She remembered the laughter.
She remembered Camille’s words.
This is what happens when you don’t know your place.
Maybe the cruelty had not been spontaneous.
Maybe it had been theater.
Nathan entered again holding an evidence bag.
Inside was a small electronic device.
“We found this sewn inside your vest.”
Evelyn stared.
“What is it?”
“Tracker.”
Her stomach tightened.
The uniform had been supplied by the catering company.
Someone had known she would wear it.
Nathan continued.
“We checked Victoire’s phone.”
“And?”
“She received one message twenty minutes before she pushed you.”
He placed a printed screenshot on the table.
Evelyn read it.
MAKE HER CALL THE GATE.
Her pulse accelerated.
Someone had wanted Marcus and the security team inside the estate.
The entire incident had been engineered.
“Who sent it?”
“Burner phone.”
“Location?”
Nathan hesitated.
“What?”
“The signal originated inside the villa.”
Evelyn slowly looked around.
Somebody at the party had orchestrated everything.
Henri’s imprisonment.
The hidden camera.
The tracker.
Maybe even Evelyn’s discovery.
Victoire had not simply pushed her into a pool.
She had triggered a sequence.
Evelyn looked toward the ballroom.
“Where’s Camille?”
Nathan froze.
Officers searched the property.
Camille Beaumont was gone.
Her blue silk dress was found in an upstairs bathroom.
Her purse remained beside the pool.
Her car had never left.
But Camille had vanished.
Then Evelyn remembered the service tunnel beneath the west wing.
There was more than one exit.
By dawn, police discovered an underground passage leading from Henri’s room toward the cliffs behind the estate.
Fresh footprints led toward the ocean.
Beside them lay a torn strip of blue silk.
Camille had known the tunnels existed.
Evelyn stared at the fabric.
Suddenly the arrogant woman beside the pool seemed far more dangerous than Victoire.
Nathan joined her.
“We found something else.”
He handed Evelyn a photograph.
It showed Camille standing beside Henri Delacroix ten years earlier.
But Camille looked almost exactly the same age.
Evelyn frowned.
“Who is that?”
Nathan answered quietly.
“Not Camille.”
He turned the photograph over.
A handwritten name appeared on the back.
ISABELLE BEAUMONT.
Evelyn looked at him.
“Camille’s mother?”
Nathan nodded.
“She died seventeen years ago.”
“How?”
Nathan hesitated.
“According to the official report, suicide.”
Evelyn studied the woman in the photograph.
She was standing beside Henri.
Both looked frightened.
Behind them was another man.
Evelyn recognized him immediately.
Charles Delacroix.
Henri’s younger brother.
The man currently serving as acting chairman of Delacroix Maritime.
Nathan pointed toward Charles.
“We checked company records.”
“What did you find?”
“Charles authorized every payment for your father’s supposed medical care in Switzerland.”
Evelyn’s blood chilled.
Charles had financed the lie.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Nathan motioned for her to answer.
Evelyn activated speakerphone.
“Hello?”
A woman breathed on the other end.
Then Camille spoke.
“Your father didn’t hide the ledger from Victoire.”
Evelyn remained silent.
“He hid it from Charles.”
“Where are you?”
Camille ignored her.
“The ledger proves what happened to my mother.”
“What happened?”
Camille’s voice broke.
“She discovered where the Delacroix fortune really came from.”
The line crackled.
“Camille—”
“Your father tried to expose his brother.”
A noise sounded behind Camille.
She gasped.
Then whispered quickly.
“Find the painting of the lighthouse.”
The call ended.
Nathan immediately began tracing it.
Evelyn stared toward the dark ocean.
“What lighthouse?”
Then she remembered.
There was one painting in Henri’s private office.
A stormy coastline.
A lighthouse.
She ran.
The office had been sealed by police, but Nathan opened it.
Evelyn crossed directly to the painting.
She lifted it from the wall.
Behind it was a safe.
Nathan stared.
“You know the combination?”
Evelyn remembered her father’s letter.
Three numbers had appeared repeatedly in the margins.
Her birthday.
July 14, 1997.
She entered 071429.
The safe clicked.
Inside was a black leather ledger.
And beneath it—
A photograph of Evelyn’s mother.
Katherine Hart.
Written across the back were six words.
IF THEY FIND THIS, PROTECT EVELYN.
Evelyn’s hands began shaking.
May you like
Then the lights went out.
Somewhere behind them, a gun clicked.
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