Chapter 4 - The Leather Folder
Julia met Claire at an old church parking lot near the edge of town.
Snow fell heavily, covering the road faster than the plows could clear it.
Emma slept in the back seat wrapped in blankets.
Julia opened the rear door and touched her niece’s cheek.
“She’s cold.”
“Margaret put her outside.”
Julia turned slowly.
“She did what?”
“Not yet. I stopped her before anything worse happened.”
At that moment, Claire did not know what Margaret would do the following morning. She only knew the older woman had become increasingly unstable.
Julia looked toward Claire.
“Come with us.”
“I need to return.”
“That house is not safe.”
“I need evidence. Someone is stealing, Nathan is lying about being in Boston, and Margaret knows who is upstairs.”
“Call the police.”
“I will. But right now I only have blurry recordings and missing jewelry. Margaret will say I am overreacting.”
Julia studied her face.
“You already know this is bigger than jewelry.”
Claire nodded.
She transferred Emma’s car seat into Julia’s vehicle.
Before closing the door, she kissed her daughter’s forehead.
“I’ll come for you soon.”
When Claire returned to Blackwood House, the lights in Nathan’s study were on.
She entered quietly through the side door.
Voices came from behind the study wall.
Margaret was speaking.
“You promised this would be finished before she noticed.”
A man answered.
“I underestimated her.”
Nathan.
Claire moved closer to the door.
“You should never have touched the jewelry,” Margaret said.
“I needed a reason to search the rooms.”
“The earrings and bracelet were enough. Taking the brooch was reckless.”
“I found the folder.”
Claire held her breath.
Margaret’s voice dropped.
“Then where is it?”
“Safe.”
“Safe where?”
“I will tell you after the transfer is complete.”
“You do not control this family.”
“No, Mother. That is the problem.”
Claire’s heart pounded.
Nathan had returned secretly.
He had taken the jewelry.
But why?
She opened her phone and started recording.
Inside the study, a chair moved.
Margaret said, “Claire must never see those documents.”
“She already suspects something.”
“Then convince her she imagined it.”
“I have been doing that for five years.”
The words struck Claire with physical force.
Every time Nathan told her she misunderstood Margaret.
Every time he asked her to apologize to keep the peace.
Every time he made her question whether she was too sensitive.
It had not been weakness.
It had been deliberate.
“What about Emma?” Nathan asked.
“A child can be managed.”
“You accused her of taking the brooch.”
“And Claire immediately became emotional. She stopped looking at the accounts and focused on protecting the girl. It worked.”
Claire almost opened the door.
Only the need to understand the whole plan stopped her.
“What happens when Claire discovers her name is on the property trust?” Nathan asked.
“She will not.”
“She is the primary beneficiary.”
“Only because your father changed the documents when he was sick.”
“He trusted her more than us.”
“He was confused.”
“No,” Nathan said bitterly. “He knew exactly what he was doing.”
Claire pressed a hand against the wall.
Nathan’s father, William, had died two years earlier. Before his death, he had often asked Claire to review unusual withdrawals from the family foundation.
She had assumed the matter ended when the accountants corrected the errors.
Apparently, William had discovered something much larger.
Margaret continued, “Once you transfer the property into the development company, the trust will be empty.”
“And Claire will sign because she thinks it is part of the Boston sale.”
“What if she reads the documents?”
“You know how she is. She reads everything.”
“Then give her a reason not to.”
Claire understood.
The missing jewelry.
The accusations.
The conflict involving Emma.
They wanted her distracted, frightened, and eager to save her marriage.
Nathan intended to place papers in front of her and pressure her to sign before she understood what they contained.
A desk drawer opened.
Nathan said, “The folder proves Father knew about the accounts.”
“Burn it.”
“I may need it.”
“To threaten me?”
“To protect myself.”
Margaret laughed without humor.
“You are more like me than you want to admit.”
Claire stepped away from the door.
Her shoe touched something on the floor.
A small blue stone.
One diamond from Margaret’s brooch.
The study door opened.
Nathan stood in the doorway.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then he looked at the phone in her hand.
May you like
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough.”
