Chapter 8 - The Man Graham Trusted
Graham met Elliot in the Whitlock Group boardroom that afternoon. Detective Sloane had told him not to confront a suspect, but Graham needed to see his friend's face when he asked the question.
“Why did you send strangers to collect my daughter?”
Elliot, silver-haired and perfectly dressed, closed his laptop with deliberate care.
“I arranged an evaluation,” he said. “Victoria told me the girl was having violent episodes.”
“She was locked in a washing machine.”
“Children can become troubled after losing a mother.”
Graham slammed both palms on the table. “Don't use Claire to explain what you did to Ellie.”
Elliot's smile disappeared.
“You want to discuss Claire? Fine. Your first wife thought every suspicious expense was a crime. She nearly bankrupted Harbor House with investigations.”
“She was protecting it.”
“That's what she called it.” Elliot slid a folder across the polished wood. “Meanwhile, you've signed every annual financial statement since her death. Every one.”
Graham opened the folder. There were his signatures, approving consulting fees paid to companies he'd never heard of.
“I was told those were routine vendor costs.”
“You're a grown man, Graham. You own your signatures.”
His phone vibrated. Lena had sent a picture of Ellie's drawing, the blue house and the woman in yellow.
Elliot leaned over and saw it.
For the first time in twenty years, Graham watched his old friend lose control. Elliot gripped the table so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Where did she get that picture?” he demanded.
May you like
Graham backed toward the door. “You recognize it.”
Elliot stood. “Tell the maid to leave the dollhouse alone.”
