Chapter 4 - The Voice Behind Her
Claire turned.
A man stood at the top of the stairs.
His face remained hidden by darkness.
But the voice had been unmistakable.
“Mike?”
The man didn't move.
Claire took one step forward.
“Is that you?”
The figure disappeared.
Claire ran upstairs.
An open window swung in the wind.
The room was empty.
On the floor was another photograph.
This time it showed Mike holding Mia.
Mia was only a baby.
Claire remembered the day.
She remembered taking the picture.
But something was different.
Behind Mike stood a woman Claire didn't recognize.
On the back was another message.
SHE KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED.
Claire stared at the photograph.
Who was she?
Before she could think, headlights appeared outside.
A black SUV.
Claire grabbed the flash drive and ran downstairs.
The SUV stopped.
Two men stepped out.
Claire escaped through the back door and ran into the woods.
Branches scratched her arms.
Rain soaked her clothes.
She kept running until she reached the road.
A car stopped.
The driver rolled down the window.
Claire recognized him.
Nathan.
“Get in,” he said.
She hesitated.
“Why should I trust you?”
Nathan looked terrified.
“Because Harold is going to kill everyone who knows.”
Claire stepped closer.
“What did you do to my husband?”
Nathan looked away.
“I didn't hurt Mike.”
“Then what happened?”
“I helped him disappear.”
Claire's heart stopped.
“Why?”
Nathan swallowed.
“Because Mike found out Harold had been stealing from investors.”
“That doesn't explain why everyone thinks he's dead.”
“It wasn't supposed to go that far.”
“What happened?”
Nathan looked at her.
“Mike wanted to expose him.”
“And?”
“Harold found out.”
Nathan's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Mike asked me to help him disappear.”
Claire stared.
“Is he alive?”
Nathan didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Claire whispered.
“Where is he?”
Nathan looked into the rearview mirror.
“Not where you think.”
A phone began ringing.
Nathan's face turned pale.
It was Harold calling.
Nathan rejected the call.
Seconds later, another phone rang.
Claire's.
Harold's voice came through.
“You're asking the wrong question.”
Claire clenched her fist.
“Where is my husband?”
Harold laughed softly.
“The question you should be asking is…”
He paused.
May you like
“Who have you been calling your daughter?”
The line went dead.
