Chapter 2 - The Woman Claire Did Not Trust)
Lena finally called at 10:42 that night.
Ethan was sitting alone in his study.
Corinne had gone upstairs an hour earlier after telling him he was becoming distant.
He had denied it.
He had kissed her goodnight.
Then he had waited until her footsteps disappeared.
"Lena?"
Her breathing sounded uneven.
"Mr. Carter, I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For leaving Maisie."
"You didn't leave her. Corinne fired you."
Silence.
Ethan leaned forward.
"Rachel said you saw something."
Lena hesitated.
"I don't want trouble."
"Neither do I."
"That's not true."
"What does that mean?"
"It means Mrs. Carter knows how to create trouble and make someone else look responsible."
Ethan's grip tightened around the phone.
"What did she do?"
Another pause.
"Yesterday, Maisie wouldn't eat lunch."
Ethan said nothing.
"She kept pushing the spoon away. Mrs. Carter became angry."
"How angry?"
"She grabbed her arm."
Ethan stood.
"Hard?"
"Hard enough that Maisie cried."
The room seemed to narrow around him.
"You saw this?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I tried."
"When?"
"Last night."
Ethan remembered coming home late.
Corinne had met him at the door with wine.
Maisie had already been asleep.
"Lena"
"I was waiting in the kitchen. Mrs. Carter told me you were exhausted and that she would handle it."
Ethan closed his eyes.
"Then what happened?"
"She came back fifteen minutes later and told me my services were no longer needed."
"She said you stole."
Lena gave a bitter laugh.
"I've had access to your house for three years. If I wanted to steal something, why would I wait until now?"
Ethan sat again.
"You should have called me."
"I was afraid."
"Of Corinne?"
Lena did not answer directly.
"Do you remember Mrs. Claire's blue document box?"
Ethan's pulse changed.
Claire had kept important documents in a steel-blue fireproof case in their bedroom closet.
"Yes."
"After the funeral, I saw Corinne carrying it downstairs."
Ethan stared at the dark computer screen.
"When?"
"About two weeks after."
"Corinne wasn't living here then."
"No."
That was true.
At the time Corinne had still presented herself merely as a concerned friend.
"What did she do with it?"
"I don't know."
"You saw her take Claire's documents and said nothing?"
"I thought you knew."
Ethan stood and paced toward the window.
"Lena, what else?"
"I saw her copying something."
"What?"
"Your signature."
Ethan stopped moving.
"Excuse me?"
"She was at the kitchen island with papers. I came around the corner and she covered them. But I saw a page with your name. She had written Ethan Carter several times."
Ethan felt something cold move through his chest.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"Why are you telling me now?"
"Because yesterday, after she grabbed Maisie, she told me something."
"What?"
Lena's voice lowered.
"She said I should remember who signs my checks if I didn't want immigration problems."
Ethan's face tightened.
"Lena, your immigration status is legal."
"I know. She knows too."
"Then it was a threat."
"Yes."
Ethan stood very still.
Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.
He looked toward the study door.
"Lena, don't call Corinne. Don't answer her calls. Tomorrow morning I'll have someone contact you."
"Mr. Carter?"
"Yes?"
"Please don't leave Maisie alone with her."
The call ended.
Ethan remained in the dark study for several minutes.
He wanted to go upstairs immediately and wake Corinne.
Demand answers.
Instead, some instinct stopped him.
Claire had always accused Ethan of showing every thought on his face.
"You're terrible at poker," she used to say. "Your eyebrows confess before your mouth does."
If Lena was right, Ethan could not afford to confess anything.
He opened the desk drawer where he kept the spare key to Claire's blue document case.
The key was gone.
He searched the drawer twice.
Then all six desk drawers.
Nothing.
Ethan walked quietly upstairs.
Maisie's bedroom door was open.
He entered.
She slept on her side, one arm wrapped around the stuffed rabbit.
He gently raised her pajama sleeve.
The bruise was clearer now.
Four faint oval marks.
Finger-shaped.
Ethan's stomach turned.
He lowered the sleeve.
Behind him, a voice whispered.
"Looking for something?"
Ethan turned.
Corinne stood in the doorway.
She wore a silk robe.
Her expression was unreadable.
"I was checking on her."
"You've checked three times tonight."
"I didn't realize there was a limit."
Corinne entered.
Ethan positioned himself subtly between her and the crib.
She noticed.
"What happened to her arm?"
Corinne's eyes lowered.
"We discussed this."
"No. You told me two different stories."
Her face cooled.
"Are you accusing me of something?"
"I'm asking."
"Then ask."
"Did you grab her?"
For one second, Corinne said nothing.
Then she laughed softly.
"Lena called you."
Ethan's expression betrayed him.
Corinne nodded.
"I knew she would."
"What happened?"
"Maisie almost pulled a hot bowl onto herself. I grabbed her before she could."
"Lena says she wouldn't eat."
"Lena is angry because I fired her."
"For stealing what?"
Corinne stared.
"Money."
"How much?"
"Two hundred dollars."
"From where?"
"My purse."
"Did you report it?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want to ruin her life."
The explanation was ready too quickly.
Ethan watched her.
Corinne stepped closer.
"You really think I would hurt her?"
"I don't know what I think."
"You married me."
"That doesn't answer the question."
Corinne's mouth tightened.
Then her eyes filled with tears.
It was subtle.
Beautifully controlled.
"You think Claire would have wanted this?"
Ethan flinched.
There it was again.
Claire's name used like a key.
"Don't."
"What?"
"Don't bring her into this."
"She's already in this house every day."
Corinne looked toward the hallway.
"In every photograph. Every room. Every decision."
Ethan's voice hardened.
"She's Maisie's mother."
"And I'm your wife."
Corinne turned and left.
Ethan watched her disappear down the hallway.
Something she had said stayed with him.
Claire was in every room.
He looked toward the wall of photographs.
One picture was missing.
A photograph taken six months before Claire died.
Claire standing beside Ethan at a charity dinner.
Corinne visible several feet behind them.
Ethan remembered the photograph because Claire had written a message on the back.
He had not read it in years.
Now the frame was gone.
The next morning Ethan found it inside a drawer beneath old batteries and receipts.
He removed the back.
Claire's handwriting filled the bottom corner of the photograph.
Ethan smiled sadly at first.
Then the smile vanished.
May you like
Claire had written:
E, remind me to tell you what I found out about Corinne. It is worse than I thought.
