Chapter 5 - The Woman Behind NorthstarEvelyn Hart arrived at Beatrix’s office wearing sunglasses despite the rain.
She removed them only after the conference-room blinds were closed.
A bruise darkened one wrist.
Naomi noticed immediately.
“Did Camille do that?”
Evelyn looked down.
“No.”
“Who did?”
“Security grabbed me when I tried to retrieve my laptop.”
Beatrix’s expression hardened.
“Whose security?”
“Northstar’s.”
Naomi felt the room shift.
Northstar had always existed on paper as a consulting firm.
Not a company with security personnel.
“Start at the beginning,” Beatrix said.
Evelyn placed a small notebook on the table.
“I worked for Camille for eighteen months. At first it was normal personal-assistant work. Scheduling. Travel. Events.”
“When did Northstar appear?”
“Almost immediately.”
“What did Camille tell you it was?”
“Her consulting business.”
Naomi leaned forward.
“She controlled it?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“She acted like she did.”
“Who else?”
“Roland signed payments. Alistair sometimes approved invoices. But there was another person.”
“Name.”
“I only knew him as Mr. Vale.”
Beatrix wrote it down.
“What did Vale do?”
“He handled structures. Companies. Trusts. Transfers.”
Naomi asked, “First name?”
“Graham.”
Beatrix looked up sharply.
Naomi knew that reaction.
“You know him?”
Beatrix nodded slowly.
“Graham Vale was Jonathan Mercer’s estate attorney.”
Roland and Alistair’s father.
Jonathan Mercer had died eight years earlier.
A stroke.
His estate plan created the family trust whose provisions now made Camille’s pregnancy financially significant.
Naomi stared at Evelyn.
“Vale still works for the Mercer family?”
“Not officially.”
Beatrix’s voice became careful.
“He was removed by the trustees five years ago after billing disputes.”
Evelyn opened the notebook.
“He met Camille every month.”
“Where?”
“Hotel lounges. Private clubs. Once at Northstar’s office.”
“Northstar has an office?”
“In Jersey City.”
Naomi exchanged a glance with Beatrix.
That location had never appeared on the corporate filings they reviewed.
Evelyn continued.
“Camille kept files there. Copies of your documents too.”
Naomi’s voice went flat.
“What documents?”
“Fertility records. Asterline contracts. Divorce drafts. Personal emails.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Some were printed years ago.”
Naomi knew how.
Camille had access.
She had been Naomi’s closest friend.
She had slept in Naomi’s home.
Borrowed laptops.
Helped organize files.
Told Naomi she should rest while Camille “handled everything.”
Naomi had interpreted devotion as love.
Perhaps Camille had interpreted trust as an opportunity.
Beatrix asked, “Why keep fertility records?”
Evelyn swallowed.
“Camille used to say they were insurance.”
“Against what?”
“Roland.”
That answer surprised Naomi.
“Explain.”
“She didn’t trust him.”
“She’s marrying him.”
Evelyn gave a bitter smile.
“That doesn’t mean she trusts him.”
Naomi sat back.
“Did Roland know about Northstar?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he know Camille controlled the accounts?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know about Graham Vale?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“I saw them together once.”
“Roland and Vale?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last December.”
Long after Naomi’s divorce.
Beatrix turned to Naomi.
“That links Roland directly.”
“Maybe.”
Evelyn pushed the notebook across the table.
“I wrote down every meeting I scheduled.”
Naomi scanned dates.
Then one stood out.
January 9.
Roland Mercer.
Camille Brooks.
Graham Vale.
Halcyon Ridge.
Private dinner.
She looked up.
“What happened there?”
“I wasn’t allowed inside.”
“But?”
“Camille came out angry.”
“About what?”
“She said Roland was changing the deal.”
“What deal?”
“I don’t know.”
Naomi turned pages.
The next meeting occurred three days later.
Camille and Alistair.
Naomi pointed.
“Was that when their affair started?”
Evelyn looked uncomfortable.
“I don’t know exactly.”
“But you suspected.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Camille asked me to book a hotel suite under another name.”
Naomi closed the notebook.
The pieces were beginning to form.
Roland and Camille were partners in something.
Then Roland changed the deal.
Three days later Camille began a sexual relationship with his brother.
Months later she was pregnant.
Not necessarily a coincidence.
Not necessarily a calculated conception.
But no longer something Naomi could dismiss as simple recklessness.
Beatrix said, “We need Graham Vale.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“He won’t talk.”
“Everyone talks under the right pressure.”
“He disappeared.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
Naomi frowned.
“Before Alistair’s paternity test reached Beatrix.”
“Yes.”
The timing was too clean.
Naomi stood.
“I’m canceling the baby shower appearance.”
Evelyn looked relieved.
Beatrix did not.
“You sure?”
“I’m not walking into a room Camille controls while someone photographs my home and former employees are being followed.”
“That’s sensible.”
Naomi took out her phone.
Then stopped.
A message from Roland.
We need to talk. Now. Alone.
Naomi showed Beatrix.
“No,” Beatrix said immediately.
“I wasn’t going alone.”
Another message arrived.
A photograph.
It showed Roland holding a piece of paper.
Naomi enlarged it.
The header read:
PRENATAL PATERNITY ANALYSIS.
Her breath caught.
Roland knew.
The next text appeared.
Alistair is lying.
Then another.
So is Camille.
A final message:
And I think they used you to get to me.
Naomi stared at the screen.
Beatrix shook her head.
“Classic Roland. Makes himself the victim.”
“Maybe.”
“You believe him?”
“No.”
“But?”
Naomi zoomed in on the test he held.
It was not the same report Alistair had provided.
Different laboratory.
Different date.
Different case number.
“Beatrix.”
“I see it.”
“If Roland ran his own test—”
“Then he suspected.”
“Before today.”
Evelyn’s face had gone pale.
Naomi noticed.
“You know something.”
Evelyn did not answer.
Naomi stepped closer.
“Evelyn.”
She whispered, “Camille asked me to switch an envelope.”
“What envelope?”
“A lab envelope.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
Naomi’s pulse accelerated.
“What was inside?”
“I wasn’t supposed to open it.”
“But you did.”
Evelyn nodded.
“It was a paternity report.”
“Whose?”
“Roland’s.”
Naomi felt the floor drop away.
“What did it say?”
Evelyn looked directly at her.
“It said he was excluded.”
Silence swallowed the room.
Beatrix said, “And you switched it with what?”
“A report Camille gave me.”
Naomi’s voice barely carried.
“What did that report say?”
Evelyn swallowed.
“That Roland was the father.”
Naomi closed her eyes for one second.
Roland had been deceived too.
Not innocent.
Not remotely.
But deceived.
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I was afraid.”
Naomi looked at the perfume-scented invitation lying inside her bag.
Camille had mocked Naomi for being unable to give Roland a child while knowing Roland could not father one.
She had not merely betrayed her former friend.
She had weaponized the deepest wound in Naomi’s marriage while building an entirely false family around Roland.
Beatrix’s phone rang.
She answered, listened, then looked at Naomi.
“That was Alistair’s attorney.”
“What now?”
“He can’t reach Alistair.”
Naomi’s stomach tightened.
“When was the last contact?”
“Two hours ago.”
Evelyn whispered, “Camille knows.”
Naomi turned toward her.
“Knows what?”
“That Alistair kept another copy.”
“Of the DNA report?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.”
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She looked terrified.
“Of Jonathan Mercer’s real trust amendment.”
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