Page 48 of One Last Secret

And there are indications that he remains responsible, too. One of the records is the title to his home with a statement from his mortgage lender that the loan has been paid in full. This is dated eight months before he hires me, which explains how he can afford my salary without difficulty.

So he can’t be in debt. Unless he has a second home in Monaco and sails there on his four-hundred-foot superyacht, he hasn’t squandered his money.

I leaf to the last few pages in this stack and my eyes widen when I see them. They’re bank statements with four particular transactions highlighted. The statements begin ten months ago and end four months ago. Every four to eight weeks or so, Victor transfers twenty thousand dollars to Lisa Reinhardt, totaling eighty thousand dollars during the six-month timeframe he loaned her money.

But why? And what does this have to do with their disappearance?

One possibility is that Victor and Lisa are in love with each other, and Celeste's hatred of Lisa is motivated by jealousy. Lisa may have come to Victor for help, and he paid her a great sum to cover her debt. Then, once it became clear that his help wouldn't be enough to save Lisa, he staged their disappearances so they could leave and be together. It's a fanciful idea, but not less fanciful than any of the other possibilities, and certainly not unheard of.

The other possibility is that Victor's mental break was unrelated to Lisa's debt, and Lisa staged her own disappearance because she lost her source of income. That explains the tension between the two of them at dinner. Victor may have been refusing to help her recently, and she may have come to beg him for money again. Celeste's hatred would in that case be contempt for Lisa and protectiveness toward her father.

I sigh and bring my hands to my chin, interlacing my fingers in front of my mouth. I’m so close. I’m right on the cusp of an answer, I can feel it. It just won’t come to me. The fate of an innocent young girl may rest on the answer to this question, not to mention mine and Sean’s fate.

And time is running out.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

A thought comes to me as I ruminate on what I’ve found. My immediate reaction to the thought is to dismiss it out of hand, but it refuses to depart.

The thought is that I might find more information at Lisa’s apartment. When Sean and I investigate, we look for blood or footprints or scraps of clothing that might lead us to our pursuers. I open the desk and look for paperwork in there, but I don’t thoroughly examine the apartment. There may be answers hidden there that I haven’t found yet.

The reason to dismiss this thought is obvious. Sean and I are already suspected of being involved in these crimes. If I’m caught snooping at that apartment again, it will be the final nail in our coffins.

I’m not sure what I expect to find either. I don’t know if I suspect Lisa of some nefarious plan to kill Victor and run away with… with what? What would she gain from that other than the certainty that she will never have his money again?

Or do I suspect the two of them are working together? I guess that’s possible, but I can’t believe that Victor would be so callous as to leave his daughter behind.

Then again, Celeste told me that he had been neglectful of her. She didn’t use the word, but her meaning was clear. Perhaps it’s time I stop looking at Victor through rose-colored glasses.

I sigh and lean back in the chair. The fact is that I still don’t know enough to be sure of what’s happened. That’s why I want to go to Lisa’s apartment. It’s the only place I haven’t scoured from top to bottom.

And that’s why, even though it’s an enormous risk, I stand and head to my room for my car keys. Reason screams at me to stop, but I have long since accepted that I’m not capable ofsitting around and twiddling my thumbs when I have the ability to do something to help innocent people. I don’t know if Victor and Lisa are innocent anymore, but I am certain that Celeste is. For her sake, I must find the answer to this mystery.

I check for police cars when I leave the house. I don’t see any. I get in the car and drive toward the apartment. I remember the way from when Sean drives the other day.

My heart pounds as I navigate the nearly empty roadways. I don’t see any police officers, but it’s possible that they’re hidden from view. It’s also possible that there is a car assigned to watch Lisa’s apartment, to say nothing of what will happen if the neighbors catch me breaking in.

But I have to try. I have to do something.

I park the car across the street from the building and look around. Once more, I don’t see any police officers. Once more, I remind myself that just because I don’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

I check my phone. Four o’clock. The sun will rise at six, and more importantly, Evelyn will arrive at Victor’s house by then. I must leave the apartment no later than five-thirty to ensure I’m home before she arrives. That gives me very little time to find anything. I’ll have to hurry.

I leave the car and walk into the building. No one pokes their head out to wonder why a stranger has turned up in the wee hours of the morning. I'll have to hope that, like most Americans, the residents here care little about the comings and goings of their neighbors.

I reach Lisa’s apartment. There is no police tape on the door, probably because leaving it there would alert potential thieves that the owner isn’t home. I test the handle and find it locked.

This is when things become really dangerous. I need to pick the lock. If I’m discovered before I finish, I will be in serious trouble.

I look around. There’s no one in sight, but all of the doors face the same hallway. It would be as simple as stepping outside for someone to discover me.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I whisper.

I quickly retrieve a bobby pin and a small jeweler’s screwdriver from my purse. I buy the screwdriver after working for the Carlton family and breaking into a doctor’s office to look for evidence of a missing young woman who I later find out was murdered by that same doctor.

I kneel in front of the door and get to work. Fortunately for me, the lock is simple and cheaply made. It’s the work of only a couple of minutes to pick the lock and enter the apartment. I close and lock the door behind me, then debate whether I should turn the lights on or use my cell phone’s flashlight. In the end, I decide to use the flashlight. I’ll just have to be careful to keep the beam from shining on the windows.

Since I have limited time, I start in the bedroom. The room looks as it does when Sean and I first investigate. If the police looked through here, they were careful not to disturb the scene.

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