Chapter 6 - THE RECORDING
-6
The old Valenti study had been sealed for years.
Nicholas’s father, Antonio, had died two years after Rebecca.
Walter said almost nobody entered the room afterward.
The mansion staff dusted it monthly.
Otherwise, it remained untouched.
Nicholas told Hannah exactly where he had found Rebecca’s phone.
“Bottom drawer of the desk. False back.”
“Who knew?”
“My father.”
“Anyone else?”
“Walter, probably.”
Walter confirmed it.
“Antonio hid documents there.”
“Why?”
“He trusted furniture more than people.”
Hannah almost smiled.
That afternoon, Walter unlocked the study.
Dark wood covered almost every wall.
Old photographs lined the shelves.
Nicholas at sixteen beside a racing bicycle.
Rebecca at twelve holding a violin.
Antonio Valenti standing beside both children.
Hannah stopped at one photograph.
Rebecca was maybe twenty.
Beside her stood Claire.
And beside Claire stood Dr. Malcolm Whitmore.
Claire’s father.
He had one hand resting on Rebecca’s shoulder.
Hannah felt something deeply wrong about the image now.
Walter opened the desk drawer.
The false compartment was empty.
“No phone.”
“I expected that.”
Hannah examined the compartment.
One corner contained a tiny strip of adhesive.
Something had once been taped there.
Walter noticed.
“What?”
“Maybe nothing.”
She used tweezers from her nursing bag and lifted the adhesive.
Attached to it was a torn fragment of paper.
Three handwritten numbers.
4 - 17 - 9.
Walter frowned.
“Combination?”
“Maybe.”
They searched the room.
There was an old wall safe behind a painting.
Four-digit dial.
Not useful.
A locked document box required a key.
Then Hannah looked at the bookshelves.
Rebecca had been seventeen when she started making paper cranes.
Four.
Seventeen.
Nine.
April 17, 2009?
A date?
She searched the photograph albums.
One album had REBECCA written on the spine.
Inside, an image from April 17 showed Rebecca standing in front of a lake cabin.
Age nine.
Holding a paper crane.
Hannah examined the cabin.
“Where is this?”
Walter leaned closer.
“Valenti lake house.”
“Still owned?”
“Yes.”
“Who uses it?”
“Nobody.”
Hannah looked at him.
“What if Rebecca hid something there?”
Walter’s expression tightened.
“That is exactly the kind of idea that gets people hurt.”
“Someone is already hurting Nicholas.”
“I know.”
“Then we can’t wait.”
They did not go alone.
Walter brought two trusted security men.
Nicholas insisted on coming.
Hannah argued.
“You’re medically unstable.”
“It was my sister.”
“You could have another episode.”
“Then bring medication.”
“Medication is the problem.”
Nicholas stared at her.
Walter interrupted.
“She has a point.”
Nicholas looked at him.
“Drive.”
The lake house stood forty minutes north of the mansion.
Small by Valenti standards.
Stone fireplace.
Wood floors.
Dust-covered furniture.
Nicholas remained in his wheelchair by the living-room window while Hannah searched with Walter.
Room four did not exist.
Seventeen was meaningless.
Nine?
Then Ethan’s paper crane slipped from Nicholas’s lap.
It landed beneath an old cabinet.
Hannah bent to retrieve it.
Behind the cabinet was a loose floorboard.
She froze.
“Walter.”
They moved the cabinet.
Under the floorboard sat a metal box.
Locked.
Nicholas stared.
“Rebecca used to hide things under floors when we were kids.”
Walter tried the brass key ring.
One key fit.
Inside were photographs.
Medical paperwork.
A disposable camera.
And three mini digital recorders.
Hannah’s hands shook.
“Don’t touch anything more than necessary.”
Nicholas laughed bitterly.
“Now you sound like a detective.”
“I sound like someone who wants evidence to survive.”
One recorder still powered on after charging.
The first file was dated seven years earlier.
Rebecca’s voice filled the room.
Weak.
Breathless.
“Testing.”
Nicholas closed his eyes.
Hannah pressed play.
Rebecca:
“If Nicholas hears this, I’m sorry.”
A pause.
“I should have told you earlier.”
Another voice entered.
Claire.
“You’re being dramatic.”
Rebecca:
“Your father changed my medicine.”
Claire:
“He’s helping you.”
Rebecca:
“No. I saw the bottle.”
Claire:
“You don’t understand medicine.”
Rebecca:
“I understand when labels don’t match.”
Hannah felt cold.
Rebecca continued.
“I’m taking this to Nicholas.”
Claire’s voice became sharper.
“No.”
Rebecca:
“Move.”
Claire:
“You’ll destroy my father.”
Rebecca:
“If he’s hurting patients, he should be destroyed.”
A sound.
Movement.
Then Claire said:
“You think Nicholas will believe you over me?”
The recording ended.
No one spoke.
Nicholas stared at the recorder.
His face looked carved from stone.
Walter whispered:
“There are more.”
The second recording was worse.
Rebecca was speaking alone.
“If something happens to me, Malcolm Whitmore is giving me pills that make me confused. Claire found out. She begged me not to report him.”
She coughed.
“He says they’re for anxiety. They aren’t.”
She continued.
“I kept one.”
Hannah looked inside the box.
There was a small sealed specimen envelope.
Expired.
Old.
But possibly still testable.
She did not open it.
Rebecca’s recording continued.
“Dad thinks I’m unstable. Nicholas doesn’t know how bad it is.”
Her breathing hitched.
“And Claire said if I ruin her father, she’ll ruin me.”
Nicholas gripped the armrest of his wheelchair.
Hannah touched his shoulder.
He didn’t pull away.
The third recording contained something no one expected.
A man’s voice.
Malcolm Whitmore.
Rebecca:
“I know what you gave me.”
Whitmore:
“You are emotionally distressed.”
Rebecca:
“I kept a pill.”
Whitmore:
“You’ve been confused for weeks.”
Rebecca:
“Because of you.”
Whitmore’s voice became calm.
Almost gentle.
“You should think carefully before making accusations that could embarrass your family.”
Rebecca:
“Is that a threat?”
Whitmore:
“It’s advice.”
Then another voice.
Claire.
“Rebecca, please.”
Rebecca started crying.
“You knew.”
Claire:
“I knew he changed something.”
“You knew!”
“I thought he was helping.”
“Then why did you lie to Nicholas?”
Silence.
Rebecca:
“Why?”
Claire finally answered.
“Because my father said if anyone found out, he would lose everything.”
The recording ended.
Nicholas turned his wheelchair away from them.
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then he punched the armrest.
Once.
Hard.
“I left her alone.”
Hannah moved in front of him.
“You didn’t do this.”
“I believed Claire.”
“You were manipulated.”
“I believed her.”
“Nicholas.”
He looked at Hannah.
His eyes were wet.
“I buried my sister thinking she overdosed because I failed to see how sick she was.”
Hannah crouched.
“You were twenty-eight.”
“I controlled half the city.”
“But you couldn’t control people lying to you.”
He laughed without humor.
“You make that sound simple.”
“It isn’t.”
Hannah looked at the evidence box.
“But now you know.”
Nicholas’s face changed.
The grief remained.
Something else joined it.
Resolve.
“What do we do?”
“We test everything.”
Walter interrupted.
“Quietly.”
“Yes.”
“No confronting Claire.”
Nicholas frowned.
“She lives in my house.”
“That is exactly why.”
Hannah packed the specimen carefully.
“We also need your current medications independently tested.”
Nicholas nodded.
Then Walter’s phone rang.
One of the security men.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
Silence.
“When?”
He hung up.
Nicholas stared at him.
“What happened?”
Walter looked toward Hannah.
“Claire returned to the mansion early.”
Nicholas shrugged.
“So?”
“She went to your bedroom.”
Hannah’s stomach dropped.
Walter continued.
“She asked security where Hannah was.”
Hannah looked at Nicholas.
Then at the evidence box.
“She knows I’m looking.”
They returned immediately.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
But Hannah knew better.
She checked the medication drawer.
One bottle was missing.
The mislabeled one.
She checked the evidence bag hidden behind a false panel in her nursing cabinet.
Still there.
Then she opened her private notebook.
Gone.
Her symptom log.
Gone.
Claire entered behind her.
“Lose something?”
Hannah turned.
Claire was smiling.
“You searched my room.”
“This is Nicholas’s house.”
“My personal medical notes are protected.”
Claire’s smile faded.
“You’re becoming confused about your position.”
“No.”
Hannah stood.
“I’m becoming very clear about it.”
Claire stepped closer.
“You’re here because I approved you.”
“No. Walter hired me.”
“I can have you removed.”
“Then do it.”
Claire stared.
Hannah continued.
“But if you remove me immediately after medication irregularities are reported, that timing may interest people.”
Claire’s eyes became flat.
“What medication irregularities?”
Hannah smiled slightly.
“I didn’t say which medication.”
For the first time, Claire looked afraid.
That night, Hannah moved Ethan to a trusted neighbor temporarily.
She hated doing it.
But something had changed.
Claire knew.
And Hannah no longer believed the danger stopped with Nicholas.
At 1:00 a.m., Nicholas called her room.
“Hannah.”
“What?”
“Come here.”
She entered.
He was holding his phone.
A security clip played.
Claire had entered Hannah’s nursing room earlier.
She searched drawers.
Photographed labels.
Then made a call.
The audio was faint.
But one sentence was clear.
Claire said:
“She found Rebecca’s tablets.”
Hannah and Nicholas looked at each other.
May you like
Claire did not merely know what happened seven years ago.
She knew exactly what Hannah had found.
