Chapter 3 - The Trap
Julian walked down the hall to the library.
He unlocked the door.
Camille was sitting on the leather sofa, her makeup smeared, her silver gown wrinkled.
She jumped up when he entered.
“Julian! Finally! You have to listen to me—”
He threw the photographs onto the coffee table.
Camille stopped.
She looked down.
She saw her father’s signature.
She saw the letter.
The remaining color drained from her face.
“Your father murdered my mother,” Julian said.
Camille shook her head violently.
“No. No, he wouldn’t.”
“He stole twenty million dollars. She caught him. He pushed her.”
“Julian, please—”
“Call him.”
Camille froze.
“What?”
“Call him,” Julian repeated. His voice was ice. “Tell him there has been an emergency. Tell him you need him at Alderwyn immediately. Do not mention me. Do not mention the locket.”
“I can’t.”
Julian stepped closer.
“You struck a woman in my house tonight. You humiliated her. You tried to have her arrested. If you do not make this call, I will hand these photographs to the FBI, and I will make sure the press knows exactly what kind of family the Prescotts really are before the sun comes up.”
Camille was trembling uncontrollably.
She picked up her phone.
She dialed.
Her father answered on the second ring.
“Dad?” she sobbed.
“Camille? What’s wrong? Aren’t you at the party?”
“I need you. Please come to Alderwyn. Right now. Through the private gate.”
“I’m on my way.”
She hung up.
Julian picked up the photographs.
“Sit down,” he ordered.
She obeyed.
Julian left the room.
He called the local police commissioner—a man who owed his career to Julian’s endorsement.
May you like
Then he called the FBI field office in New York.
They would be waiting.
