Chapter 6 - CLAIRE’S FIRST NAME
Daniel reached St. Matthew’s Hospital at 5:42 in the afternoon.
Claire sat beside Emily’s bed in the pediatric emergency department.
Their daughter wore a hospital gown and held a stuffed elephant given to her by a nurse.
A small bandage covered the scrape on her shoulder.
Daniel kissed her forehead.
“How are you feeling?”
“Cold.”
He found another blanket.
Claire watched him spread it across Emily’s legs.
“What happened with the police?”
“They preserved the dress and the video.”
“Are they arresting anyone?”
“Not yet.”
Claire looked away.
Daniel sat beside her.
“There’s something else.”
He showed her the basement recording.
By the time the unknown voice ordered them to make the bruise visible, Claire was crying silently.
“Who is that?” Daniel asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you sure?”
She looked at him.
“Yes.”
Daniel hesitated.
Then he told her what Martin Vale had said.
Ask Claire why she changed her name before she married you.
Claire’s face became still.
Daniel felt the distance between them before she spoke.
“My name was Claire.”
“Was?”
“My first name has always been Claire.”
“What changed?”
“My last name.”
“You told me it was Bennett.”
“It was Bennett when we met.”
“What was it before?”
A nurse entered to check Emily’s blood pressure.
Daniel waited.
Claire did not speak again until they were alone.
“Whitmore,” she said.
Daniel searched his memory.
The name meant nothing to him.
“Why did you change it?”
“I was eighteen.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Claire looked toward Emily.
“She’s awake.”
“I know.”
“Then not here.”
Daniel stood and walked to the window.
Outside, evening traffic moved through the city as if nothing had happened.
His daughter had been assaulted.
His sister was missing.
His mother had threatened his wife’s life.
Now Claire was telling him she had concealed her identity for the entire length of their marriage.
“When?” he asked quietly.
“When will you explain?”
“As soon as Emily is safe.”
“She isn’t safe because we don’t understand what they want.”
Claire flinched.
“I know.”
A physician entered with the test results.
Emily had no water in her lungs, but the bruising required documentation. The substance on the dress had tested positive for traces of a concentrated anticoagulant used in rodent poison.
The amount was not enough to cause serious harm through skin contact.
It could have been fatal if swallowed.
Daniel looked at Claire.
“The cake.”
She understood immediately.
The stained sleeve had been placed near the cake table before Margaret brought it upstairs.
Had they intended to contaminate food?
The physician notified police.
Officer Ramirez arrived twenty minutes later.
He questioned Emily gently, with a child advocate present.
Emily described being taken to the basement by Rebecca.
She said Margaret told her to repeat sentences about Claire.
When Emily refused, someone pinched her arms.
She did not know the unknown man’s name.
She described him as wearing shiny black shoes and smelling like oranges.
Daniel remembered someone at the party with that scent.
Martin Vale.
The attorney always carried citrus lozenges.
Ramirez requested a warrant to search the house and Vale’s office.
He also informed Daniel that Rebecca’s vehicle had been found abandoned near a bus station.
There was blood on the steering wheel.
“Is it hers?” Daniel asked.
“We don’t know yet.”
Harold and Margaret had stopped cooperating.
Vale claimed attorney-client privilege.
As Ramirez left, Claire touched Daniel’s arm.
“We need to go somewhere they don’t know.”
“Our house has cameras.”
“They know where we live.”
“Where do you suggest?”
Claire looked toward the hallway.
“My aunt owns a cabin north of Bellford.”
“You never told me you had an aunt.”
“I haven’t spoken to her in twelve years.”
Daniel stared at her.
“How much of your life don’t I know?”
“Enough that I was afraid you would leave if I told you.”
The honesty hurt more than another lie would have.
Emily stirred.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Start with Whitmore.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“My father was Thomas Whitmore.”
Daniel waited.
“He died when I was seventeen. At least that is what I was told.”
“What do you mean?”
“He owned a private development company.”
“What kind?”
“Land, hospitals, residential projects.”
Daniel felt the first thread connect.
“Construction.”
“Yes.”
“What was the company called?”
“Whitmore Development Group.”
Daniel knew that name.
Everyone in regional construction knew it.
Whitmore Development had collapsed after its founder disappeared with millions in investor funds. The scandal had ruined hundreds of subcontractors.
One of those subcontractors had been Harold Mercer.
Daniel turned toward Claire.
“My father lost his first business because of Whitmore.”
“I know.”
“You knew when you married me?”
“Not at first.”
“When did you find out?”
“After Emily was born.”
Daniel’s voice tightened.
“And you said nothing?”
“I found documents in Margaret’s study during Christmas dinner. She had copies of my childhood photographs.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ask her?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because one photograph had been taken the day my father disappeared.”
Claire opened her phone and found an image.
It showed a teenage Claire standing beside Thomas Whitmore in front of a private airplane.
A second man stood partly out of frame.
Only his hand and jacket were visible.
On the hand was a large ring bearing the initials HM.
Harold Mercer.
Daniel enlarged the image.
His father had known Thomas Whitmore personally.
“What happened after this photograph?”
“My father boarded the plane. It crashed over the mountains.”
“Was his body found?”
“No.”
“Then why did Vale tell me you changed your name?”
“Because he was the attorney who handled my father’s estate.”
Daniel felt the room tilt around him.
Martin Vale had represented the Whitmore family.
Then the Mercers.
Now he was protecting both families’ secrets.
Claire looked at Emily.
“I think your parents recognized me before I recognized them.”
Daniel’s phone rang.
The caller ID showed their home security company.
He answered.
A dispatcher informed him that the alarm at the Mercer residence had been triggered.
Police were on the way.
Daniel opened the security application.
The front camera showed the door standing open.
The living room camera showed broken furniture.
Then the image froze.
A final still frame appeared before the system went offline.
Rebecca stood in Emily’s bedroom.
She held the tiny wooden mother from the dollhouse.
May you like
Written across the wall behind her in black paint were seven words.
CLAIRE WHITMORE SHOULD HAVE DIED WITH HER FATHER.
