As Christine went downstairs and entered the living room, she had an epiphany. Damage from the quake and the weakness with which it rendered the door meant easy access—a very easy access—to the sealed room and the world’s most coveted possessions: money, jewels, highly privileged information, scathing secrets, unabashed revelations, and incriminating evidence.
She hoped Vivian would not replace the decrepit door with a new one right away.
Oh, no, not just yet, Christine thought as she went downstairs. No way, no how. She also had to contend with “The Case of the Missing Gun.”
That creep, Christine thought with reference to Vivian. I’ll get her and I’ll get her good!
“What’s so funny?” Vivian asked. She cried and dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex, then blew her nose.
“You just had to ask, didn’t you?” Christine said. “Have you got a major surprise coming your way.” She plopped onto the couch across from Vivian. “Here.” Christine held out one of the diaries toward Vivian. “This one’ll flip your cookie.”
“I’ve read enough,” Vivian said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“No, you haven’t.”
“Well, I don’t want to read any more.”
“Well, you’ll just have to. Go on. Read this section right here.” Christine pointed to a section of a page and tossed the diary across the coffee table.
It landed on the cushioned seat a few inches from Vivian. She hesitantly picked it up. Silence dominated the living room as Vivian read excerpts from the diary. Her face paled and she swallowed hard. “So she was pregnant and gave the baby up for adoption,” Vivian said. “If she were still alive, I’d have her arrested, prosecuted, and incarcerated.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.
“Yeah, right,” Christine said. “How valiant of you, Viv. So would I, for that matter. However, she would have had us killed the instant she knew any of us had our hands on those diaries, among her other treasures. That explains why she had it oh-so-hidden from the world, let alone us. You know, I’m more inclined now than ever to believe that she’s actually alive. Really alive. It’s not just a hunch, and I know I’m not crazy, either. I honestly believe this entire scenario on her part was a setup of sorts. When you think about it, everything was just a smoke screen all this time. She even admitted that her scream, after our father’s tumble down the stairs, was a smoke screen. I’ll grant a wee bit of credit to the clever witch. I’m gonna start investigating.”
“You’d be wasting your time. I strongly doubt if anything would turn up. I couldn’t even fathom how she’d still be alive after all those years. Now that’s a disturbing thought. Even if she were,” Vivian wondered aloud, “how did she manage to survive the plane crash in London, if indeed, she had been on the plane in the first place?”
“Back to Square One. It’s a smoke screen, as I said. It’s been a cover-up all this time, don’t you get it? Oh, I just thought of something. We wouldn’t want to show those diaries to the police, would we? I couldn’t bear the thought of those pigs scavenging through the trunk. I certainly wouldn’t want them to get their filthy hooves on my property!”
“Since when did those valuables become your property?”
“Since I laid eyes on them, okay?”
After reading those diaries which revealed the true causes of Charles and Rob’s deaths, Vivian thought, I wouldn’t put anything past Rose, even if something happened to her second husband, Jack Windom. It seems to me she had it all planned out, long before she married Jack.
Vivian sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “I wish Rob was here,” she said.