Chapter 3 - The Warning From a Dead Woman)
Daniel did not sleep.
At sunrise, he sat at the kitchen island staring at Emily's letter.
Claire entered at seven fifteen.
She was dressed for a meeting.
Her hair was flawless.
Her expression suggested nothing unusual had happened the night before.
"Coffee?"
Daniel folded the letter.
"No."
She studied him.
"You stayed downstairs."
"Yes."
"Did you find anything?"
Daniel looked directly at her.
"Did you?"
Claire paused.
"Meaning?"
"You searched that room before I ever knew it existed. What did you find?"
"I already told you."
"No. You told me enough to make me stop asking."
Claire placed her coffee cup on the counter.
"Daniel, our wedding is three weeks away."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything."
She stepped closer.
"We've spent eighteen months building a family. Sophie loves me. You love me. I love both of you. And now you're going to let documents from years ago turn this house into a crime scene?"
"Maybe it was."
Claire's eyes flickered.
Daniel noticed.
He stood.
"Emily wrote that she didn't trust your father."
Claire became very still.
He placed the letter on the counter.
She read it.
Her expression did not change.
"Where did you find this?"
"In the room."
"Daniel."
"You've seen it before."
"No."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"Then why aren't you surprised?"
Her lips parted.
No answer came.
Daniel stepped back.
That silence was enough.
Claire whispered, "My father made mistakes."
"What kind?"
"Business mistakes."
"Emily died three days after writing this."
"You think my father killed her?"
"I don't know what to think."
"Then don't destroy your life over suspicion."
"My life already changed the day Emily died."
"And what about Sophie?"
Daniel looked toward the staircase.
Sophie was still asleep.
Claire lowered her voice.
"Do you really want to drag her into an investigation involving her dead mother?"
"She's already involved."
"Because she drew a picture?"
"Because she saw you meeting someone in a room you hid from me."
Claire folded her arms.
"You are becoming paranoid."
Daniel had heard the word before.
Not from Claire.
From people who wanted inconvenient questions to disappear.
He said nothing more.
At ten that morning, Daniel contacted the only person he trusted outside the family.
Marcus Hale.
Marcus had been Daniel's college roommate before joining the state police. He now worked as a private investigator specializing in corporate fraud.
They met at a quiet restaurant two neighborhoods away.
Daniel placed copies of Emily's files on the table.
Marcus read in silence.
Twenty minutes later, he looked up.
"This isn't random accounting."
"What is it?"
"Shell companies."
"For what?"
"Could be tax fraud. Could be money laundering. Could be kickbacks."
"Victor?"
"His name doesn't appear directly."
"But the companies?"
"Three are connected to people who worked with Whitmore Holdings."
Daniel leaned back.
"What about Emily?"
Marcus studied the photographs.
"Your wife was digging."
"She never told me."
"Maybe she was trying to protect you."
Daniel looked down.
That possibility hurt more than he expected.
Marcus continued.
"What was Emily doing professionally before Sophie?"
"Compliance law."
Marcus nodded.
"So she knew what she was looking at."
Daniel's phone vibrated.
A message from Claire.
Florist appointment at noon. Don't forget.
Daniel stared at it.
Marcus noticed.
"She know you're here?"
"No."
"Keep it that way."
Daniel looked up.
"You think Claire is involved?"
"I think you don't know enough."
Marcus pushed the papers back.
"Don't accuse anyone. Don't threaten anyone. Don't cancel the wedding yet."
Daniel frowned.
"Why?"
"Because if someone is hiding something, the wedding gives them a deadline."
"What kind of deadline?"
Marcus leaned forward.
"The kind that makes people careless."
Two hours later, Daniel met Claire at the florist.
Rows of flowers filled the private showroom.
Daniel immediately felt uncomfortable because of Sophie's allergy, though the child was safely at daycare.
Claire pointed toward a display.
"Those are the roses I want."
Soft pink.
Exactly like Sophie's drawing.
Daniel's stomach tightened.
The florist, an elderly woman named Mrs. Avery, smiled.
"They're imported garden roses. Very fragrant."
Daniel looked at Claire.
"Sophie cannot carry those."
Claire smiled.
"I know. Hers will be silk."
Mrs. Avery looked confused.
"Silk?"
Claire's smile froze.
"Yes."
The florist flipped through her order sheet.
"I have Miss Sophie's bouquet listed as fresh."
Daniel turned slowly toward Claire.
Claire stared at the paper.
"That must be an error."
Mrs. Avery shook her head.
"You called yesterday and changed it."
Daniel felt every muscle in his body tighten.
"I did not call."
Mrs. Avery looked between them.
"No, sir. Ms. Whitmore called."
Claire's face went pale.
"That's impossible."
The florist hesitated.
"I spoke with you personally."
Claire gave a nervous laugh.
"I think you're mistaken."
Mrs. Avery turned her computer screen around.
There was the order.
Flower Girl Bouquet.
Fresh pink garden roses.
Approved by Claire Whitmore.
Daniel looked at the woman he planned to marry.
Claire whispered, "Someone changed it."
Daniel said nothing.
Because on the screen, beneath the order modification, was a timestamp.
Yesterday.
9:42 p.m.
At 9:42 p.m., Claire had told Daniel she was taking a shower.
May you like
But Daniel remembered something else.
At 9:41, he had heard the basement door close.
