Chapter 12: The Clock in the Miami Penthouse
I hadn't planned to return to Miami.
After everything that had happened, the thought of stepping into Jared and Vanessa's penthouse made my stomach turn.
But Thomas's grandfather clock was there.
And if he had hidden a second will inside it, I needed to find it before anyone else did.
Arthur called his office and arranged for a private investigator to accompany us.
Margaret insisted on coming.
Daniel remained at the estate to supervise security and preserve the digital evidence.
We left early the following morning.
The drive to the airport was quiet.
I spent most of the journey looking at Thomas's photograph on my phone.
He was standing beside the grandfather clock, smiling.
I remembered the day we bought it.
It had been at a small antique shop outside Charleston.
Thomas had fallen in love with it immediately.
The owner wanted more money than we could afford at the time.
Thomas negotiated for nearly an hour before finally getting the price down.
“You're buying an enormous clock that makes noise every hour,” I had told him.
He laughed.
“It's not just a clock, Leah. It's a piece of history.””
Now I wondered whether he had always intended it to hold something more important.
We arrived in Miami shortly after noon.
The penthouse stood in a modern glass tower overlooking the water.
I had only visited once, during the inheritance celebration.
The concierge recognized Margaret's name and directed us toward the private elevators.
When the doors opened, Vanessa was waiting.
She wore a white designer dress and held a glass of sparkling water.
Her smile disappeared when she saw me.
“What are you doing here?””
“I need something that belongs to me.””
She glanced at Margaret.
“Does Jared know you're coming?””
“He does now.””
Vanessa stepped aside reluctantly.
“Fine. But don't start another argument.””
I walked into the penthouse.
The view was breathtaking.
The ocean stretched beyond the balcony, and the afternoon sun reflected off the water.
I understood why Vanessa loved the place.
It was everything she had ever wanted.
Expensive.
Impressive.
A perfect background for photographs.
But I wasn't interested in any of it.
“Where is the grandfather clock?”” I asked.
Vanessa's expression changed.
“What clock?””
“The antique clock Thomas owned.””
She looked toward the hallway.
“It's in storage.””
“Where?””
“Jared arranged everything.””
“Which storage facility?””
“I don't know.””
I stared at her.
“Vanessa, I need that clock.””
She crossed her arms.
“Why?””
“Because it belongs to me.””
She laughed.
“Everything belonged to Thomas. You can't just walk in here and start claiming things.””
Margaret stepped forward.
“The clock was specifically listed in the estate inventory as personal property belonging to Leah Bennett.””
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
“Then you'll have to speak to Jared.””
“I will.””
I turned toward the hallway.
“I'm checking the study.””
Vanessa followed me.
“Don't touch anything.””
The study was a large room with floor-to-ceiling windows and dark wooden furniture.
Thomas's old desk stood against the wall.
Several photographs were arranged on a shelf.
I picked up one showing Thomas and Jared when he was about ten years old.
They were fishing beside a lake.
Jared was grinning, holding a tiny fish.
Thomas looked happier than I had seen him in years.
I placed the photograph down.
Then I noticed an empty space in the corner.
A rectangular mark on the floor showed where the grandfather clock had once stood.
I looked at Vanessa.
“When was it removed?””
“Last week.””
“Who collected it?””
She shrugged.
“Some movers.””
“Which company?””
“I don't remember.””
Margaret opened her briefcase.
“Mrs. Bennett, perhaps you should reconsider your answers. We have reason to believe the clock contains an important legal document.””
Vanessa's face changed.
Only slightly.
But I noticed.
“What legal document?””
I looked at her.
“You know something.””
She laughed.
“Don't be ridiculous.””
I stepped closer.
“Did you open the clock?””
“No.””
“Did your father?””
Her expression hardened.
“Leave my father out of this.””
“Then tell me where the clock is.””
Vanessa looked toward the balcony.
Finally, she sighed.
“Jared had it moved to a storage unit in Brickell.””
“Which one?””
She gave me an address.
Margaret immediately called the investigator.
He confirmed the facility was still operating and arranged for us to meet the manager.
Before leaving, I turned toward Vanessa.
“Has Jared told you about the attempted transfer?””
She looked away.
“That's between Jared and his father.””
“His father is dead.””
“Exactly.””
The casualness of her response made my skin crawl.
I walked toward the elevator.
Then Vanessa called after me.
“Leah.””
I turned.
She was standing in the doorway with her arms folded.
“Don't expect to find anything important in that old clock.””
I stared at her.
“Why?””
She gave a small smile.
“Because my father already checked it.””
The elevator doors closed before I could respond.
I looked at Margaret.
“Did you hear that?””
“Yes.””
We arrived at the storage facility twenty minutes later.
The manager, a nervous-looking man named Peter, met us at the reception desk.
He checked the paperwork and led us through a corridor lined with metal doors.
Unit 418.
He unlocked it.
Inside were several boxes, an old leather chair, two lamps, and the grandfather clock.
I walked toward it slowly.
There was a scratch on the wooden base.
I remembered making that scratch myself when I accidentally knocked a vacuum cleaner against it years earlier.
I touched the wood.
“Hello, old friend,” I whispered.
The investigator examined the clock.
“Has anyone accessed this unit recently?””
Peter checked his tablet.
“Yes. The original renter came here three days ago.””
“Who?””
“Jared Bennett.””
I turned toward Margaret.
Three days ago.
The same day Richard had visited the estate.
The same period someone had accessed Thomas's private computer system.
I looked at the clock.
“Did he open it?””
Peter checked the security records.
“He spent about twenty minutes inside.””
Margaret's expression tightened.
“Can we see the footage?””
Peter hesitated.
“Only with proper authorization.””
The investigator showed him the relevant legal paperwork.
Peter led us to a small security office.
The footage showed Jared entering the unit.
He walked toward the clock.
Then he opened its wooden side panel.
He reached inside.
But instead of removing something, he stepped back and made a phone call.
A few seconds later, he walked out.
I leaned closer to the screen.
“Can you enlarge that?””
Peter adjusted the image.
Jared's phone lit up.
The name on the screen was visible.
RICHARD WHITMORE.
Margaret exhaled.
“He called Richard before opening the clock.””
I looked at the footage again.
Then something caught my eye.
After Jared left, the unit door opened once more.
A second person entered.
A woman.
She wore a dark coat and carried a small black handbag.
She approached the clock and examined the side panel.
Then she removed something.
I leaned closer.
The image wasn't perfectly clear.
But I recognized her face.
It was Elaine Porter.
My stomach dropped.
“That's her.””
Margaret nodded.
“Elaine.””
The woman placed the object inside her handbag and left.
I turned toward the manager.
“When did this happen?””
Peter checked the timestamp.
“Yesterday afternoon.””
I felt the room tilt.
Thomas's secret had been inside that clock.
And someone had taken it.
The investigator immediately contacted the police and requested that the storage unit be sealed.
But I wasn't finished.
I walked back to the clock and examined the side panel.
Something was still inside.
A small folded piece of paper had slipped behind the wooden mechanism.
I carefully pulled it free.
It was a note.
Thomas's handwriting.
I unfolded it.
There were only two sentences.
Leah, if the second will is missing, do not search for it.
Search for the woman who signed the first one.
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Margaret.
“Who signed the first will?””
Margaret's face became completely still.
“Elaine Porter.””
And suddenly, I understood.
The person who had been trying to steal my inheritance wasn't simply hiding evidence.
She had been involved in creating the inheritance documents from the beginning.
But before Margaret could explain, the investigator's phone rang.
He listened for several seconds.
Then he turned toward me.
“Mrs. Bennett, there's a problem.””
“What?””
He lowered his voice.
“The storage facility's security system has just received an emergency deletion request.””
I stared at him.
“From whom?””
He checked the screen.
Then he showed me the authorization.
May you like
It had been submitted using my son's account.
*JARED BENNETT.*
