Chapter 6 - The Last Name in the Delacroix Ledger
Arthur Delacroix did not enter the cottage.
He stayed outside.
That told Victor everything.
Arthur had survived by controlling distance.
Other people took risks.
Other people lied.
Other people paid.
Victor stepped onto the porch.
Marcus and two investigators moved around the property.
Arthur stood beside a dark sedan.
He was older than the photograph.
Gray hair.
Expensive coat.
Tired eyes.
"You found him," Arthur said.
Victor did not answer.
Arthur glanced toward the cottage.
"I wondered whether Elena had left enough breadcrumbs."
"She left enough."
"She always was clever."
"Don't say her name."
Arthur smiled faintly.
"Still angry."
Victor almost laughed.
"Angry doesn't cover twelve years."
Arthur's smile faded.
"I didn't kill Elena."
"You destroyed my family."
"I protected myself."
"You stole a seven-year-old boy."
"He saw Gregory and me discussing accounts."
"So you kidnapped him."
"I arranged for him to disappear."
Victor's fists tightened.
Arthur continued quickly.
"He was never harmed."
"You don't get credit for that."
"No."
For once, Arthur sounded almost human.
"I don't."
Sirens approached.
Arthur looked toward the road.
"You brought authorities."
"I brought consequences."
Arthur laughed softly.
"That's new for you."
Victor understood the insult.
Years earlier, he might have handled this differently.
But Poppy's terrified face had changed something.
So had Hannah.
So had seeing Leo alive.
Victor no longer wanted vengeance more than he wanted his family back.
Arthur was arrested before midnight.
Gregory eventually provided enough information to unravel the financial conspiracy.
The Delacroix ledgers documented years of fraud, bribery and stolen money.
But for Victor, none of that mattered as much as the young man sitting in the passenger seat beside him on the drive back to Harrow Point.
Leo—Elliot—watched the road.
"What should I call you?" Victor asked.
"Elliot."
Victor nodded.
"Then Elliot."
"You don't mind?"
"Why would I?"
"Because Leo was the name you gave me."
Victor looked ahead.
"Leo was the name your mother and I gave a little boy. Elliot is the name of the man that boy became."
Elliot stared at him.
"You really mean that?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Then Elliot asked:
"What was she like?"
Victor smiled.
"Your mother?"
Elliot nodded.
Victor drove slower.
"She hated expensive flowers."
Elliot blinked.
"What?"
"Everyone sent roses. She preferred daisies."
A small laugh.
It was the first laugh Victor had heard from his son in twelve years.
Victor told him more.
Elena burned toast.
She cheated at cards.
She sang terribly but confidently.
She once drove Victor's favorite car into a fountain because she refused to admit she couldn't reverse properly.
Elliot laughed again.
Then cried.
Victor didn't pretend not to notice.
When they reached Harrow Point, Elliot stopped at the gate.
"I remember this."
Victor's chest tightened.
"Take your time."
They walked inside.
Poppy came running from the drawing room.
She stopped when she saw Elliot.
"Who's him?"
Hannah appeared behind her.
"Poppy."
"What?"
Victor looked at Elliot.
"My son."
Poppy considered this.
Then she held up her stuffed rabbit.
"I'm Poppy."
Elliot crouched.
"I'm Elliot."
"My bunny is Rabbit."
Elliot smiled.
"That's a good name."
Victor watched them.
Hannah came beside him.
"You found him."
Victor nodded.
"You found both of us."
Hannah shook her head.
"Elena did."
Maybe she had.
But one question remained.
Later that evening Victor opened the Delacroix ledger again.
He reached the final page.
One name had been written separately from the others.
Hannah Bell.
Victor stared.
The entry was dated four years earlier.
The year Hannah began working at Harrow Point.
Victor found her in the kitchen putting Poppy to bed on a padded bench.
He placed the ledger on the table.
Hannah saw the name.
Her face changed.
Victor noticed.
"You knew."
She said nothing.
"Hannah."
She closed her eyes.
"My husband knew Arthur Delacroix."
Victor felt cold.
"Daniel?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"He worked at the harbor."
Victor remembered her employment file.
Daniel Bell had supposedly been a warehouse supervisor.
Hannah continued.
"Before he died, Daniel found records connected to Delacroix. He told me if anything happened to him, I should get close to Harrow Point."
Victor stared.
"You came here deliberately."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Daniel believed Elena Castellano had discovered the same thing."
Victor looked toward sleeping Poppy.
"Your husband's death."
Hannah nodded.
"I never believed it was an accident."
Victor sat slowly.
Four years.
Hannah had entered his home searching for answers.
She had found Elena's coin.
Found the ledgers.
Found the truth.
And nearly disappeared because of it.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"At first, I didn't know whether you were part of it."
Victor almost smiled.
"Apparently nobody trusts me."
Hannah smiled sadly.
"You're not exactly approachable."
That surprised a laugh out of him.
A real one.
Poppy stirred.
Both adults went quiet.
Victor looked at Hannah.
"What happens now?"
"I don't know."
But someone else answered.
Elliot stood in the doorway.
"We stop living like they're still controlling us."
Victor looked at his son.
Elliot stepped inside.
"They took twelve years."
He glanced at Hannah and Poppy.
"Don't give them tomorrow too."
Victor realized his nineteen-year-old son had just said what Victor himself had never learned.
The past deserved truth.
It did not deserve the future.
But there was one promise Victor still had to keep.
May you like
And the next morning, he called everyone at Harrow Point into the great hall.
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