Chapter 9 - three days before the wedding)
Ethan closed Claire’s office door behind him.
“You haven’t answered my calls.”
“I was working.”
“For sixteen hours?”
Claire looked at him.
“How do you know how long I’ve been here?”
He smiled.
“Your car.”
A harmless answer.
Perhaps.
Claire no longer believed in harmless answers.
He approached.
“Are you still marrying me?”
The directness surprised her.
“Yes.”
Ethan studied her face.
“Why?”
Claire almost laughed.
“Shouldn’t you be happy?”
“I am.”
“No, you’re suspicious.”
“So are you.”
He moved closer.
“Maybe we should stop pretending.”
Claire’s pulse quickened.
“Pretending what?”
“That you haven’t been investigating me.”
Silence.
Ethan nodded toward her desk.
“My mother thinks you’re getting cold feet.”
“What do you think?”
“I think somebody has been feeding you pieces of the truth.”
Claire did not move.
Ethan lowered his voice.
“The dangerous thing about pieces is that you can arrange them into whatever picture you want.”
“Did you target me for my trust?”
“Yes.”
Claire was stunned.
He smiled.
“See? Honesty.”
“You knew who I was before we met.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe you didn’t.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever love me?”
His expression changed.
“I do.”
“That doesn’t sound like love.”
“You think two things cannot be true at once?”
Claire stared.
“I knew you were Thomas Morgan’s daughter. My mother wanted me to meet you. I agreed.”
“For money.”
“For business.”
“Same thing.”
“Not to me.”
Claire felt disgust rise.
“And after?”
“After what?”
“After you actually knew me.”
Ethan’s face softened.
“After, I fell in love with you.”
Claire hated that part of her still wanted those words to matter.
“Then why the trust agreement?”
“Because love does not make me stupid.”
She laughed.
“Meaning?”
“Your company and mine should have been combined years ago.”
“So marriage is an acquisition.”
“It can be more than one thing.”
Claire stepped back.
Ethan reached for her.
She flinched.
He saw it.
For one second shame appeared on his face.
Then anger replaced it.
“You talked to Natalie.”
Claire said nothing.
“That woman is unstable.”
“She said you put her in the hospital.”
“She fell.”
Claire stared.
There it was.
A sentence so casual it made everything else irrelevant.
She fell.
Claire thought of every abused woman who had heard the same lie shaped differently.
Walked into a door.
Lost balance.
Provoked him.
Misunderstood him.
“I’m done.”
Ethan’s face went blank.
“With this conversation,” Claire added quickly.
He relaxed slightly.
The wedding had to happen.
The trap required it.
Ethan touched her face.
She forced herself not to recoil.
“Three days.”
“Three days.”
“You’ll sign after the ceremony.”
“No.”
His thumb stopped near her jaw.
“The agreement.”
“I said no.”
“You will.”
Claire looked directly at him.
“Why are you so sure?”
He smiled.
“Because you still don’t know everything about your father.”
Then he walked away.
Claire did not follow.
At noon Reyes arrived.
He had news.
Thomas Morgan had not drowned.
The medical examiner had reopened preserved toxicology samples.
A chemical used in certain marine engine cleaning agents had been found in his blood at a concentration sufficient to cause confusion, muscle weakness, and loss of coordination.
It had been missed initially because the test was uncommon.
Claire sat motionless.
“He was poisoned.”
“We can say he was exposed to a toxic compound before entering the water.”
“Someone drugged him.”
“Likely.”
“On the boat?”
“Probably.”
Claire thought of Vivian and Charles boarding the night before.
“What did they put it in?”
“We don’t know.”
“Coffee?”
“Possibly.”
“Alcohol?”
“Possibly.”
“Could it have been delayed?”
“Yes.”
That mattered.
If the poison had been administered earlier, Ethan’s arrival at the marina might have been unrelated.
Or he might have arrived to finish the job.
Reyes continued.
“The boat’s emergency fuel valve had also been tampered with.”
Claire stared.
“So Dad was poisoned and stranded.”
“Potentially.”
“Then fell into the water.”
“That is our working theory.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Her father had not simply died.
Someone had constructed an accident.
Reyes placed a photograph on the table.
“We found this in archived traffic footage.”
Ethan’s car.
1:07 a.m.
Then another.
2:14 a.m.
Leaving.
Claire looked at Reyes.
“My father’s watch stopped at 1:51.”
“Yes.”
The room went silent.
“You think Ethan was there when he died.”
“We think Ethan was near the marina.”
Claire knew why Reyes used careful language.
She did not need careful language.
At five that afternoon, the burner phone delivered another location.
St. Augustine Church.
Confessional room.
8 p.m.
Claire almost ignored it.
Then the message added:
Laura Bennett will be there.
Claire arrived with Reyes watching from outside.
The church was nearly empty.
A cleaner worked near the sanctuary.
Claire entered the small confessional room.
Nobody.
Then the opposite door opened.
A woman stepped inside.
Late forties.
Gray coat.
Dark glasses.
Claire recognized her from photographs.
Laura Bennett.
Alive.
Claire whispered, “You’re real.”
Laura almost smiled.
“So are you.”
“Have you been messaging me?”
“No.”
Claire’s heart sank.
“Then who?”
“I hoped you knew.”
“Charles said he protected you.”
“He did.”
“Is he part of this?”
Laura sat.
“He was.”
“What does that mean?”
“He helped Vivian hide money. Then he discovered what she planned to do to me. He helped me disappear because guilt and self preservation finally pointed in the same direction.”
“My father?”
“Saved my life.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
“Did Vivian kill him?”
Laura looked down.
“I don’t know.”
“Ethan?”
“I don’t know.”
“Charles?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because Charles was with me in Montreal when Thomas died.”
Claire stared.
The marina footage showed Charles.
Laura shook her head.
“The timestamp was altered.”
“Police said it looked authentic.”
“Looking authentic is different from being authentic.”
Claire thought of the anonymous source.
“Someone is manipulating me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Laura reached into her coat.
She handed Claire a document.
It was a copy of Thomas’s original trust amendment.
One clause had been highlighted.
If Claire died without children, control of the Morgan Heritage Trust would not pass to Ethan.
It would transfer to the Thomas Morgan Foundation.
Claire frowned.
“So killing me wouldn’t give Ethan the company.”
“Correct.”
“Then why do they need the incapacity agreement?”
“Because they need you alive.”
“For how long?”
“Until you transfer the voting shares.”
Claire swallowed.
“And after?”
Laura looked at her.
“After that, you become unnecessary.”
Claire thought of the mysterious recording.
Make Ethan disappear.
“Someone wants Ethan gone too.”
Laura nodded.
“Because Ethan became unpredictable.”
“Who?”
Laura leaned closer.
“Evelyn Cross.”
Claire stared.
“No. Evelyn said she wasn’t the voice.”
“She wasn’t.”
“Then why?”
“Because she works for the voice.”
“Who is it?”
Laura started to answer.
Footsteps entered the church.
Fast.
Laura looked toward the door.
“Did you tell anyone?”
“Only Detective Reyes.”
Laura went pale.
“Then we have a problem.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever has been messaging you knew about every police move before you did.”
Claire froze.
Footsteps stopped outside the confessional.
A man’s silhouette appeared beneath the door.
Then Detective Reyes spoke.
“Claire?”
She exhaled.
Laura did not.
May you like
Instead she whispered, “Ask him how he knew Thomas’s toxicology sample still existed before the lab found it.”
Claire turned slowly toward the door.
