his face in his hand. “Could you actually think so little of me to believe that I would choose money over love?”
“No—no,” I stammered. “I didn’t want to be the reason for you losing…” I paused to look around the expansive property, and my eyes stopped at the elaborate fountain ahead. “All of this.”
He stared straight ahead. “I only wish you would have left that decision to me.”
I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm, but he stiffened and pulled it back. “I’m married now, Vera,” he said. “Her name is Elaine. She’s a good woman. We’re expecting our first child. We only just found out.”
The words echoed in the night air, taunting me. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, of course.” I stood up. “I was foolish for coming here.”
Charles stood up. “Vera, wait. Are you in some sort of danger? If you need a place to stay, Greta can make you up a room.”
I shook my head. “No.” What would Elaine think? He’s about to start a family, a real family, with a proper wife. How can I tell him about Daniel now? “My being here will only cause trouble for you,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
Charles took a step closer to me. “You’re sure?”
I could see the emotion, the longing, in his eyes. His presence felt magnetic. I wanted nothing more than to feel the comfort of his arms, to tell him about our son and to have him help me find him.
I opened my mouth to speak just as the door cracked open. Elaine walked out to the porch with crossed arms and an impatient expression. “Charles, darling, dinner has been plated. Your soup is getting cold.”
“Good-bye Charles,” I said, walking down the steps to the gravel drive.
“Vera, wait, I—”
“Good-bye,” I said again, disappearing into the darkness. I turned back once more, with an aching heart, and watched as Elaine territorially threaded her arm through his. He kissed her cheek like a gentleman and escorted her back to the house.
I blotted a stray tear with the edge of my sleeve. The moon hovered overhead, a silent witness, shining brighter now. Where will I go next? What will I do? I stumbled along the side walkway, looking down toward the lake. Crickets chirped as soft waves pushed up onto the marshy shore. I remembered what Charles had said about the lilies, how they were special, not of this world. I longed to look at them again, to watch them bob in the moonlight. Daniel would have liked to see them. He would have been gentle, just like Charles as a boy, dipping his hand in the water and touching their petals ever so lightly. He would appreciate their beauty, like his father did.
With a heavy heart, I walked toward the lake.
Chapter 18
CLAIRE
Ilifted the papers from the case. They carried the scent of the space behind Lillian’s wall: cigar smoke, must, a tinge of old leather. The first page confirmed that Lillian’s father, Edward Sharpe, had indeed represented Sven W. Ivanoff in the murder trial of Vera Ray. The next few pages were filled with legal jargon and various motions I did not understand. But deeper in the stack lay the material I’d been waiting for, the transcribed sworn testimony of Mr. Ivanoff. I shivered, thinking of what might lie in those yellowed typewritten pages. An admission of guilt? The horrific details of Vera’s death? I began reading:
E. R. Sharpe: Mr. Ivanoff, please state for the record your name and address.
S. W. Ivanoff: Sven W. Ivanoff of 4395 Fifth Avenue.
Sharpe: You have pled not guilty to the murder of Miss Vera Ray. Is this correct?
Ivanoff: Yes, sir.
Sharpe: Please state how you were acquainted with Miss Ray.
Ivanoff: I knew her for about four years.
Sharpe: When did you first meet?
Ivanoff: We lived in the same building. She lived on the floor below. But that wasn’t how we first met. I was over in Windermere doing some work on a house. Saw her walking the roadside. She had the look of a lady who needed help.
Sharpe: So what did you do?
Ivanoff: I stopped the truck. Pulled over. I asked her if she needed a lift. She asked me if I could take her back to her apartment in Seattle. That’s when I realized we lived in the same building.
Sharpe: Now, Mr. Ivanoff, the prosecution seems to paint a picture of Miss Ray as a woman of questionable morals—a prostitute, even. Did you have any reason to believe that this was true