Chapter 5 - The Baby Lucas Prepared For
My daughter was born at 4:12 the following morning.
Five pounds, three ounces.
Tiny.
Furious.
Alive.
When they placed her against my chest, I stopped being Victoria Gallagher, widow.
Stopped being Charles Baldwin’s daughter.
Stopped being the controlling beneficiary of anything.
I was simply her mother.
I named her Lucy.
Lucas had joked that if we had a girl, naming her after him would be “aggressively sentimental.”
So I did it anyway.
Lucy Gallagher.
For twelve hours, nobody discussed murder around me.
Then Samantha arrived.
She brought flowers.
And another envelope from Lucas.
“For the baby.”
I stared.
“He left something?”
“He instructed me to deliver it only after your child was safely born.”
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Victoria,
If you’re reading this, I’m either being dramatic or I was right to worry.
That was Lucas.
Even from beyond the grave, trying to make me smile.
He wrote about Lucy without knowing her name.
Then:
Your father is not the man I’m afraid of.
I reread it.
Samantha leaned closer.
Lucas continued.
Charles is proud, impulsive and dangerously easy to manipulate. But he loves you in the damaged way he understands love.
I looked away.
Then:
If anything happens to me, do not let Charles control the investigation.
But do not assume he caused it.
Ask who profits from making him look guilty.
My hands shook.
There was one final instruction.
Open locker 317.
Syracuse Central Station.
Key taped beneath my old chessboard.
The chessboard was inside our house.
Police retrieved it.
Key found.
Locker opened.
Inside:
A laptop.
Accounting ledgers.
Three flash drives.
And a photograph.
Martin Cross.
Courtney Baldwin.
Kissing.
My twenty-four-year-old stepmother.
My father’s wife.
The image had been taken six months earlier.
Samantha whispered:
“Oh, Charles.”
My stomach turned.
Courtney wasn’t simply an immature woman who married a wealthy older man.
She had a connection to Martin.
We checked the other photographs.
Restaurants.
Hotels.
Parking garages.
Months of meetings.
Lucas had been watching them.
Why?
Affair?
Fraud?
Both?
Then the laptop unlocked using a password only I would know.
Our first apartment number.
Lucas had prepared everything for me.
The accounting records showed Martin redirecting company payments through shell corporations.
But someone else approved several transfers.
Initials:
C.B.
Charles Baldwin?
Too obvious.
Courtney Baldwin?
Same initials.
Then a video file.
Lucas had secretly recorded Martin.
Martin said:
“Once Charles signs the restructuring, Courtney gets access.”
Another voice answered.
Female.
Courtney.
“And Victoria?”
Martin laughed.
“Pregnant widow with no business experience? She’ll sign whatever her father puts in front of her.”
I felt something cold settle inside me.
They had planned around Lucas’s death.
Maybe before it happened.
Then Courtney said:
“What if Lucas tells Victoria?”
Martin answered:
“He won’t make it that far.”
The recording ended.
Samantha immediately called Ruiz.
But before police reached my house—
Courtney disappeared.
And she took something from Lucas’s desk.
Not money.
May you like
Not jewelry.
The original Schedule C.
