There it was. Sending Elena away was only the first stage. Beatrice intended to separate a grieving widow from her child.
“You weren’t protecting Leo. You were planning to own him.”
“This is my family home, Raymond. Do not speak to me that way.”
The room went silent. Beatrice realized too late what she had said. Whitmore House did not belong to her. She had lived there long enough to confuse access with ownership.
I questioned the security supervisor. He admitted his guards had entered Elena’s residence and taken her phone based solely on Beatrice’s instructions.
“You are relieved of duty pending termination. Leave your badge with Marjorie.”
Beatrice stepped forward.
“He was following my instructions.”
“Then he chose poorly.”
