Chapter 3 - The Blue Book With the Golden SunBy sunrise, Natalie had made three decisions.
Bradley would never be alone with Emily again.
She would cooperate fully with the police.
And she would find out why her husband had taken David's notebook.
The third decision frightened her almost as much as the first two.
For three years, she had tried to build a life that did not revolve around her dead husband's possessions.
David Carter had been a successful environmental engineer and part-owner of Carter Environmental Services, a Connecticut company specializing in commercial drainage systems, flood inspections, and municipal infrastructure.
He had been methodical about everything.
Receipts.
Contracts.
Birthdays.
Even grocery lists.
During their marriage, he had filled notebooks with engineering calculations, sketches, and observations that meant little to Natalie.
The blue ledger was different.
David had carried it almost everywhere during the final year of his life.
Once, while undergoing cancer treatment, he had asked Natalie to keep it safe.
“It's just work,” he had said.
But his expression had told her otherwise.
After his death, Natalie had put the notebook inside a wooden box with his watch, wedding ring, and photographs.
She believed it remained there.
Until Emily saw it in Bradley's study.
At nine that morning, Natalie called Miriam Chen.
Miriam had been David's attorney for nearly fifteen years. She was also the independent co-trustee of the trust David had established for Emily.
She answered immediately.
“Natalie?”
“I need your help.”
Something in her voice made Miriam stop asking ordinary questions.
Natalie explained the previous afternoon.
The water.
The bathroom.
Emily's terror.
Bradley's disappearance.
When Natalie mentioned the blue notebook, Miriam became silent.
“Are you certain Emily saw it?”
“She's five, Miriam. She recognized the golden sun.”
“Where are you now?”
“At the hospital.”
“Don't return to the house alone.”
“Why?”
Miriam took a breath.
“Because Bradley contacted my office last week.”
Natalie gripped the phone.
“About what?”
“Emily's trust.”
Natalie stared through the hospital window.
“What does Bradley have to do with Emily's trust?”
“Legally? Nothing.”
“Then why was he calling you?”
“He claimed you wanted to restructure the investments.”
“I never told him that.”
“I know.”
Miriam's next words were measured.
“He asked what would happen if you became unable to act as trustee.”
Natalie felt sick.
“He asked that?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I intended to discuss it at our appointment yesterday. He described it as a hypothetical planning question. I refused to give him confidential information.”
Yesterday.
The afternoon Natalie had left Emily with Bradley.
Natalie remembered how he had encouraged her to attend the appointment.
You should get your legal paperwork organized.
She had thought he was being helpful.
Now she wondered how many of his small acts of kindness had been carefully placed steps toward something else.
By noon, Natalie and Emily were discharged.
A hospital social worker helped arrange trauma-focused support for Emily and explained the importance of letting a specially trained forensic interviewer handle detailed questions about the bathroom incident.
Natalie understood.
She had already asked more than she wished she had.
She did not want her desperate need for answers to become another burden for her daughter.
They went to stay with June Ortiz, Natalie's closest friend.
June was a pediatric nurse who lived in a quiet neighborhood twenty minutes from the mansion.
When Emily stepped inside, June crouched beside her.
“I have something important to tell you,” June said.
Emily looked wary.
“I bought strawberry ice cream.”
For the first time since the bathroom incident, Emily almost smiled.
“With sprinkles?”
“Obviously.”
Natalie turned away before either of them could see her crying.
That evening, Detective Leah Price called.
Bradley had contacted the police through an attorney.
He claimed Emily had slipped while playing near the bathtub and that he had tried to catch her.
The detective did not disclose her investigation strategy, but she asked Natalie to preserve Bradley's messages and any relevant household records.
Natalie forwarded the screenshots.
Then Detective Price asked a question that seemed strange.
“Mrs. Carter, did your husband regularly use the upstairs bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Was the faucet functioning properly before yesterday?”
“As far as I know.”
“Did he normally fill the bathtub that high?”
“No. Never.”
The detective paused.
“We're having the scene documented carefully. Please don't arrange repairs until we've coordinated access.”
Natalie agreed.
After the call, she searched for an old photograph of David's wooden memory box.
She found one from Christmas 2023.
Emily, then three, sat on the living room carpet wearing red pajamas.
Beside her stood the box, its lid open.
The blue leather notebook was visible.
So was a small brass key tied to a ribbon.
Natalie enlarged the photograph.
She remembered the key.
David had once told her it opened a locked compartment in his antique writing desk.
She had forgotten about that compartment.
Bradley apparently had not.
At eight that night, Emily fell asleep on June's couch.
Natalie sat nearby, staring at the old photograph.
June brought two mugs of tea.
“What are you looking for?”
“A key.”
“What kind of key?”
“One that belonged to David.”
June sat down.
“Do you think Bradley took it?”
“I think he took something from a box that was supposed to belong to my daughter.”
June considered this.
“Then maybe it isn't only about the notebook.”
Natalie looked up.
“What do you mean?”
“People don't always steal the thing they're after. Sometimes they steal the thing that tells them where to look.”
The words stayed with Natalie.
Her phone rang.
Miriam.
“Natalie, I'm sorry to call this late.”
“What happened?”
“I was reviewing correspondence from the trust's bank.”
Natalie stood.
“And?”
“Someone submitted documents yesterday morning requesting a transfer of two million four hundred thousand dollars.”
Natalie could barely speak.
“From Emily's trust?”
“Yes.”
“Who authorized it?”
Miriam's voice hardened.
“That's the problem.”
She paused.
“The authorization bears your signature.”
Natalie stared at the photograph of David's box.
“I didn't sign anything.”
“I believe you.”
“Then who did?”
Miriam answered quietly.
“That's what we need to find out.”
May you like
And Natalie suddenly understood why Bradley had been so interested in her daughter's future.
The man who had promised to become Emily's father had been trying to reach her inheritance.
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