Chapter 8 - Coffee with a Ghost
Miriam Price waited in a quiet diner outside the city. She was seventy-four, sharp-eyed, and wore a red scarf that looked defiant against the gray morning.
"Eleanor always feared this would happen," she said, reading Grandmother's letter.
"What happened to Richard Whitmore?"
Miriam stirred untouched coffee. "He discovered that Martin Bell used several companies to hide debts and move other people's property. He planned to testify. The night he died, he drove to meet me with a ledger. He never arrived."
Miriam spoke about Eleanor without making her into a saint. Grandmother could be stubborn, vain about her roses, and impossible when she thought she was right. She'd once stopped speaking to Miriam for a month over a disputed furniture appraisal. "But when a powerful man tried to intimidate a widow," Miriam said, "Eleanor put on her best coat and went to court with her." I laughed unexpectedly. It was the first clean laugh I'd had since the necklace. The story reminded me that courage didn't arrive as a grand feeling. Sometimes it looked like a woman putting on a coat, carrying her documents, and walking into a room where she'd been told she didn't belong.
"You think Martin caused the crash?"
"I can't prove that. I know Richard called me, frightened, and told me to keep the original documents away from Bell."
She showed us a photograph: Richard standing beside Martin, a younger Vanessa, and a man whose face I recognized from the new trust paperwork. Alan Pierce. Director of Alder Management.
"Alder isn't independent," Emma said.
"No," Miriam replied. "It's part of the same circle."
Miriam had saved copies of old filings and a handwritten index of storage units. But the ledger itself remained missing. Richard's last voicemail mentioned a blue stone and a locker number.
"A blue stone?" I asked.
Miriam studied my face. "Why?"
I showed her a picture of the sapphire necklace. She turned pale.
"Richard owned that sapphire before Nathan did. He called it the family compass."
"Nathan said he had it made for me."
"He had the setting made," she answered. "The stone is older."
Outside the diner, Daniel sent a text: SOMEONE HAS OPENED YOUR GRANDMOTHER'S DESK.
May you like
I called Rosa, but she didn't answer.
