Chapter 12 - The Boat
Richard Cole's death had been ruled accidental.
August remembered comforting Victoria at the funeral.
"Where were you that night?" he asked.
Victoria's expression turned flat.
"Home."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
Nora shook her head. "No."
"I found an old hotel receipt in Caroline's files. Victoria checked into the Lakeshore Grand under a false name that evening."
Victoria's eyes flashed. "You have no proof I was there."
Mason held up his phone.
"Actually, we do."
He had contacted a retired detective who remembered the Cole case. A storage archive still held evidence never digitized.
The plate number belonged to Victoria's car.
August leaned on the desk.
"This is not about Richard anymore," Victoria said. "You're letting a dead girl's paranoia poison you."
Elsie stood up.
"My mom wasn't paranoid."
Victoria looked at her.
"You don't know what your mother was."
August stepped between them.
"You will never speak to her like that again."
Victoria gave him a humorless smile.
"There he is. The grandfather. Eight years late."
The sentence hit.
August did not defend himself.
He had failed Caroline by believing the easiest version of her death.
Nora opened another page from the blue notebook.
"Caroline believed Richard discovered Victoria's role in the theft. He threatened to expose her."
"Then he died," Mason said.
Victoria laughed. "So now I'm a murderer?"
August answered, "I don't know yet."
Mason's phone buzzed.
A dockworker had reported seeing two people arguing beside Richard's boat.
One description matched Victoria.
The other did not match Richard.
August knew only one man from that era who walked with a limp.
Thomas Green.
August turned toward the doorway.
May you like
Thomas had been standing there silently.
And for the first time, the old driver looked afraid.
