Chapter 2 - Nothing UpstairsThe party lasted another forty-three minutes.
Daniel remembered the number because he checked his watch constantly.
Vanessa acted as though nothing had happened.
She laughed when expected.
Accepted congratulations.
Allowed an elderly family friend to touch her stomach.
Even discussed nursery colors with Daniel's mother, Eleanor.
Only Daniel noticed the tension in her jaw.
When the final guests left, he locked the terrace doors himself.
Vanessa stood in the foyer.
"Are you seriously doing this?"
Daniel looked toward the staircase.
"Doing what?"
"Believing a three-year-old over your wife."
"I didn't say I believed him."
"You didn't need to."
Daniel started upstairs.
Vanessa followed.
"Daniel."
He kept walking.
The nursery occupied the eastern corner of the second floor. Vanessa had insisted it remain private until decorating was complete.
Daniel opened the door.
The room smelled of new paint and cedar.
A crib waited beneath the windows.
Boxes filled one wall.
He searched the closet.
Nothing.
Opened the wardrobe.
Nothing.
Checked beneath furniture.
Vanessa stood in the doorway with her arms crossed.
"Finished?"
Daniel opened another cabinet.
Empty.
She laughed once.
It contained no humor.
"Maybe you should check under the crib. Perhaps my detachable stomach rolled under there."
Daniel straightened.
"Why did you turn white?"
Her eyes hardened.
"Because your employee's child accused me of faking a pregnancy in front of my husband."
"He didn't accuse you of anything. He's three."
"Exactly."
Daniel studied her.
Vanessa stepped closer.
"You know what I've gone through to have this baby."
That stopped him.
There had been fertility appointments.
Hormone treatments.
One pregnancy two years earlier that had ended after seven weeks.
Daniel's expression softened automatically.
Vanessa saw it.
She touched his hand.
"Do you know how humiliating tonight was?"
"I'm sorry."
"Then trust me."
Daniel looked once more around the nursery.
Nothing seemed disturbed.
Downstairs, Tasha was helping finish cleanup when Daniel appeared.
She straightened immediately.
"Mr. Whitmore."
"Where's Caleb?"
"Staff lounge."
Daniel lowered his voice.
"I'm not going to question him again."
Relief crossed her face.
"Thank you."
"I want you to know that."
Tasha hesitated.
"Sir, he's three. He tells stories sometimes."
Daniel nodded.
"But?"
She looked toward the staircase.
"But he usually tells stories about dinosaurs."
Daniel almost smiled.
"He doesn't invent things about people?"
"Not like that."
The honesty cost her.
Daniel could see it.
"You don't have to protect your job by agreeing with me."
"I'm not agreeing with anybody."
She met his eyes.
"I'm protecting my son."
Daniel nodded.
"Fair enough."
Tasha turned away, then stopped.
"There is one thing."
Daniel waited.
"He was upstairs earlier."
His expression changed.
"What?"
"I was changing linens in the guest rooms. He followed me. I thought he'd gone back downstairs."
"When?"
Tasha calculated.
"Maybe twenty minutes before he said it."
Daniel looked toward the staircase again.
"Which rooms?"
"East hallway."
The nursery.
Vanessa appeared above them.
"Daniel?"
Both looked up.
She stood at the railing.
One hand resting over her stomach again.
"Come to bed."
Daniel stared at her.
Then he noticed something he hadn't noticed before.
The nursery door had been locked during the party.
He knew because Vanessa had complained that one of the decorators still had the key.
Yet somehow a three-year-old boy had seen something inside that hallway.
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And when Daniel had gone upstairs—
the door had already been unlocked.
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