Chapter 3 - Fractured Alibis
Julianne’s composure fractured instantly, the fierce anger melting into a calculated, glacial calm that was far more unsettling. She shifted the baby in her arms, the white blanket rustling softly as the infant finally let out a tiny, whimpering cry. Julianne didn’t look at the baby; her cold blue eyes remained locked on Eleanor, who was still kneeling beside the wet, trembling Clara.
“David drops things everywhere,” Julianne said smoothly, her voice lacking any genuine surprise. “You know how disorganized he is. The girl probably found it in the study and planned to use it to extort us. That just proves her character, Eleanor.”
Clara shook her head frantically, droplets of water flying from her dark hair. “No! That’s a lie! Mr. Thorne gave me that book yesterday afternoon. He told me to keep it safe because he was afraid of what Mrs. Thorne would do if she found out about the offshore accounts!”
“Silence, you ungrateful little liar!” Julianne snapped, stepping forward with her brown heel clicking sharply. “You’ve been sneaking around our private quarters for months. Everyone knows your financial troubles. Your brother’s medical debts, your mother’s nursing home bills—you needed money desperately.”
Eleanor stood up slowly, clutching the ruined notebook against her green dress. She looked at Clara, whose tear-stained face bore the undeniable marks of exhaustion and genuine fear, not guilt. Then she looked at Julianne, who was clutching the baby a little too tightly, her knuckles turning white against the white blanket. Something didn’t add up. If David Thorne had left the country three weeks ago, why was his journal wet? The pool filtration system had only been turned on an hour ago, and David’s study was on the opposite side of the estate, entirely protected from any stray splashes.
“The journal is damp with pool water, Julianne,” Eleanor said softly, holding the soggy leather up for inspection. “And David’s study has been locked since he supposedly flew to Zurich. Care to explain how a book from a locked room ended up soaked in our backyard?”
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Julianne opened her mouth to reply, but before a single word could escape, the heavy iron gate at the side of the patio creaked open, and a tall, soaked figure stepped out of the shadows.
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