The Secret Beneath the Clock Tower
Chapter 7
Vivian thought grief had already taught her what shock felt like.
She was wrong.
Nothing could have prepared her for the possibility that the story of her mother’s death had been incomplete.
Richard gave her an old file.
Inside was the original accident report.
Vivian read every page.
The accident had occurred at 11:48 p.m.
But there was a problem.
The hotel security log showed Elena had left at 10:16.
That meant she had been gone for more than an hour before the crash.
“Why didn’t anyone notice?”
“Because I told security to erase the earlier footage.”
Vivian looked up.
“Why?”
“Because Elena came to my office that night.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me she had found the deed.”
“And then?”
“I threatened to stop her.”
Vivian stared at him.
“You threatened your own wife?”
“I was desperate.”
“What did she do?”
“She said she would expose me.”
Richard looked at the file.
“She walked out.”
“Did you follow her?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
He didn’t answer.
Vivian realized something.
“Martin?”
Richard nodded.
“Why?”
“Because I asked him to bring her back.”
Vivian felt sick.
“Did he?”
“I don’t know.”
That afternoon, Vivian confronted Martin.
He didn’t deny following Elena.
“I drove behind her.”
“Why?”
“To convince her to return.”
“Did you cause the accident?”
“No.”
“Where did she go?”
“She stopped at the old clock tower.”
Vivian froze.
“The tower?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
Martin shook his head.
“I saw her enter.”
“What happened next?”
“I waited outside.”
“For how long?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“And then?”
“She came out carrying a box.”
“What box?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where did she go?”
“She left.”
“Then?”
“I never saw her again.”
Vivian stared at him.
“What happened to the box?”
Martin’s eyes lowered.
“I took it.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I gave it to your father.”
Vivian returned to Richard.
He admitted having the box.
But he insisted it contained only financial papers.
Vivian opened it.
There were dozens of documents.
Most were meaningless.
Then she found a photograph.
Her mother stood beside Daniel’s father, Samuel.
Behind them was a little girl.
Vivian.
She was perhaps seven years old.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten sentence.
If Vivian ever asks what happened, tell her the truth about the clock.
Vivian’s hands trembled.
Then she noticed something else.
The photograph had been taken after the date of Elena’s supposed death.
She looked at the stamp.
October 9, 1998.
Six days after the accident.
Vivian stared at her father.
“Mom was alive after October 3.”
Richard didn’t answer.
“Dad.”
He looked away.
“Was she?”
Finally, he whispered:
“Yes.”
Vivian’s world broke open.
“What happened on October 9?”
Richard closed the box.
“She came back.”
“Why?”
“To say goodbye.”
“Why?”
“Because she knew someone was watching her.”
Vivian leaned against the desk.
“Who?”
Richard looked toward the window.
“I never learned his name.”
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“She’s gone.”
Vivian looked at him.
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
