Chapter 2 - The Apartment on East 74th
Claire found the apartment because Grant made a mistake with a driver.
For years, Grant had used Northstar's executive transportation service.
Every trip generated a record.
Most executives never thought about it.
Claire had helped design the expense system herself.
Three weeks after seeing the message on Grant's phone, she called Northstar's transportation administrator.
"I'm reviewing Grant's security arrangements."
No one questioned her.
Why would they?
She was Mrs. Whitmore.
Within an hour, Claire had six months of travel logs.
One address appeared twenty-three times.
East 74th Street.
Grant had never mentioned anyone living there.
Claire visited the building on a Tuesday afternoon.
She did not go inside.
She sat across the street in the back of Daniel's car.
At 3:17, a blonde woman emerged.
She looked approximately thirty.
Very pregnant.
Grant followed her.
Claire's fingers tightened around the edge of the seat.
The woman laughed at something Grant said.
Grant touched the small of her back.
Then he bent and kissed her.
Not on the cheek.
Not casually.
Slowly.
Intimately.
Daniel said nothing.
Claire watched her husband help another woman into a black SUV.
Only after they drove away did Daniel ask, "Do you want to leave?"
Claire stared at the apartment building.
"Who is she?"
"I'll find out."
"Today."
Daniel nodded.
By evening, they had a name.
Rebecca Lane.
Thirty-one.
Former director of communications at one of Northstar's subsidiaries.
She had resigned eight months earlier.
Northstar records showed a generous separation payment.
Two million dollars.
Claire read the number twice.
"Two million?"
Daniel nodded.
"Approved by Grant."
"Reason?"
"Confidential settlement."
"For what?"
"That's the interesting part."
Daniel turned his laptop toward her.
"There is no settlement agreement."
Claire looked at him.
"Then why did Northstar pay her?"
"I don't know."
The answer arrived three days later.
Rebecca did not own the East 74th Street apartment.
Aster Lane Ventures did.
One of the same companies receiving money from Northstar.
The apartment had cost eleven million dollars.
Another Aster Lane property existed in Connecticut.
Seven million.
A third in Palm Beach.
Nine million.
Claire spread the documents across Daniel's office.
"Grant used company money to buy her houses."
"Potentially."
"Don't lawyer me."
Daniel sighed.
"Yes. It appears that way."
"How much total?"
"At least thirty-one million tied to real estate."
"And the remaining seventeen?"
"We haven't traced it."
Claire turned toward the window.
Her reflection looked unfamiliar.
Daniel watched her.
"I can contact Evelyn tonight."
"No."
"Claire."
"No."
"You're protecting him."
Claire turned.
"I'm protecting the company."
"From what?"
"From whatever he used the other seventeen million for."
Daniel was silent.
Claire continued.
"If we expose the real estate now, Grant knows we're investigating. Records disappear. People get paid. Stories change."
"So you wait?"
"We wait."
Daniel shook his head.
"You've become frighteningly good at this."
Claire gave him a tired smile.
"I learned from my husband."
At home, Grant behaved as if nothing had changed.
That became the cruelest part.
He ate breakfast across from Claire.
He asked about charity dinners.
He complained about directors.
He occasionally kissed her goodnight.
Then he went to Rebecca.
Claire wondered whether Grant felt guilt.
She eventually decided it did not matter.
One night, he returned at one in the morning.
Claire was reading in bed.
Grant removed his watch.
"You're awake."
"So are you."
"Board dinner."
"How was it?"
"Long."
Claire looked at him.
There had been no board dinner.
She knew because Evelyn had called her at seven.
Grant walked toward the bathroom.
"Grant."
He stopped.
Claire almost asked.
Who is she?
How long?
Do you love her?
Is the baby yours?
Instead she said, "Are you happy?"
Grant looked confused.
"What kind of question is that?"
"A simple one."
He considered it.
"Sure."
Claire nodded.
Grant frowned.
"Are you?"
Claire turned a page.
"I'm learning."
That answer disturbed him.
She could tell.
For the next several days, Grant became unusually attentive.
Dinner invitations.
Flowers.
A weekend suggestion.
Claire understood the pattern immediately.
Guilt had made him generous.
She rejected none of it.
The performance continued.
Behind the scenes, Daniel and Peter traced the money.
The final seventeen million led somewhere unexpected.
Not to Rebecca.
Not to property.
Not even to Grant.
It went to a consulting company called Horizon Strategic Solutions.
Horizon had existed for fourteen months.
Its registered address was a mailbox in Delaware.
Peter obtained one invoice.
It billed Northstar seven million dollars for "strategic intelligence services."
Claire stared at the phrase.
"What does that mean?"
Daniel shook his head.
"Could mean almost anything."
"Or nothing."
"Exactly."
Peter looked uneasy.
"There's more."
He placed another document on the table.
The ultimate beneficiary of Horizon was hidden behind two offshore companies.
But one transfer had been routed incorrectly.
It revealed a name.
Nathan Cole.
Grant's chief of staff.
Daniel swore quietly.
Claire read the document again.
"Why would Grant give Nathan seventeen million dollars?"
Peter said, "Maybe Nathan knows something."
Claire looked at him.
"About what?"
No one answered.
The next morning, Claire attended a Northstar Foundation breakfast.
Grant stood at the podium.
He spoke about integrity.
Responsibility.
Legacy.
Claire sat beside Evelyn Mercer.
Evelyn leaned toward her.
"You're very quiet."
"Am I?"
"You've been quiet for months."
Claire looked at Grant.
"Sometimes silence is useful."
Evelyn studied her.
They had known each other for nearly a decade.
Evelyn was one of the few directors who had respected Claire even after she left her executive role.
"Is there something I should know?"
Claire kept her eyes on her husband.
"Not yet."
Evelyn's gaze sharpened.
"That answer worries me."
"It should."
After the event, Claire entered the restroom and found Rebecca Lane standing near the sinks.
For one strange second, neither woman moved.
Rebecca recognized her.
Claire saw it immediately.
Fear flashed across Rebecca's face.
"Mrs. Whitmore."
"Rebecca."
Rebecca's hand instinctively moved toward her stomach.
Claire noticed.
Rebecca noticed Claire noticing.
"I'm sorry," Rebecca whispered.
Claire's chest tightened.
Not because of the affair.
Because Rebecca looked terrified.
Claire had expected arrogance.
Defiance.
Maybe guilt.
Not fear.
"Is Grant hurting you?"
Rebecca's eyes widened.
"No."
"Are you afraid of him?"
"No."
Too fast.
Claire stepped closer.
"Then who are you afraid of?"
Rebecca's lips parted.
The restroom door opened.
Two women entered, laughing.
Rebecca lowered her voice.
"I can't talk to you."
"You just did."
"Please."
"Does Grant know I saw you?"
Rebecca shook her head.
"Then let's keep it that way."
Claire reached into her bag and removed a business card.
It belonged to Daniel.
She placed it beside the sink.
"If you ever decide you can talk."
Rebecca stared at it.
Claire left.
She had nearly reached the elevator when Rebecca appeared behind her.
"Claire."
Claire turned.
Rebecca was pale.
She looked down the corridor before speaking.
"Grant isn't the one you should be watching."
Claire's pulse changed.
"Who is?"
Rebecca hesitated.
Then she said two words.
"His mother."
The elevator doors opened.
Claire did not move.
Because Grant's mother had been absent from every suspicious document Claire had found.
Which meant one of two things.
May you like
Either Rebecca was lying.
Or Claire had been investigating the wrong Whitmore.
