Chapter 4 - The First Lie About Claire
By evening, the storm had trapped everyone inside Hawthorne Manor.
Trees had fallen across the main road. The power flickered every few minutes. Telephone service came and went.
Arthur ordered the household staff to leave before conditions worsened. Only one person refused.
Margaret Bell, the manor’s seventy-year-old housekeeper, stood in the kitchen with her arms folded.
“I have served this family for forty-two years,” she said. “I am not abandoning this house because the wind is loud.”
Arthur studied her.
“You may be in danger.”
“I have been in danger since the first Hawthorne learned how to sign a check.”
Claire almost smiled.
Margaret had been part of the manor for as long as she could remember. She had comforted Claire after childhood nightmares, taught her to bake bread, and once slapped Mason’s hand when he tried to drown a kitten in the pond.
Arthur accepted her decision.
Daniel did not.
“This is a private family matter,” he said.
Margaret looked at him.
“Then perhaps you should leave.”
Rebecca covered a laugh with her glass.
Daniel walked away.
After dinner, Arthur gathered everyone in the drawing room.
A fire burned beneath the marble mantel. Rain hammered the windows. The family sat in a half circle, watching the old man as though waiting for a clock to stop.
Arthur placed a sealed envelope on the table.
“This is a copy of my current will.”
Mason leaned forward.
Daniel remained still.
Rebecca studied the envelope.
Arthur continued.
“My attorney will arrive as soon as the roads reopen.”
“Why?” Daniel asked.
“To make changes.”
Mason’s eyes moved toward Claire.
“What changes?”
“That depends on what happens tonight.”
Rebecca shifted.
“What is supposed to happen tonight?”
Arthur looked at each of them.
“Honesty.”
Daniel sighed.
“Dad, if this is another test, you’re not well enough for it.”
“I have never been more awake.”
Arthur turned to Claire.
“Show them.”
Claire connected her laptop to the television.
A financial spreadsheet appeared.
“These are transfers from Hawthorne Maritime’s emergency reserve,” she explained. “They began eighteen months ago.”
Mason leaned back.
“We’ve already discussed this.”
“No,” Claire said. “You denied it.”
Daniel looked at the screen.
“Those are vendor payments.”
“To companies registered at empty addresses.”
“Many vendors use administrative offices.”
Claire changed the page.
“Three companies share the same mailbox in Delaware. Their directors do not exist. Their tax numbers were created using the identities of dead people.”
Rebecca looked at Daniel.
He did not look back.
Claire opened another file.
“The payment approvals used Grandpa’s digital signature.”
Arthur raised his hand.
“I authorized none of them.”
Mason stood.
“This is ridiculous. Claire has been manipulating records.”
Claire clicked a button.
An email appeared.
It had been sent from Mason’s account to Daniel.
The subject line read:
FINAL TRANSFER BEFORE THE OLD MAN SIGNS.
Mason’s face changed.
Daniel looked at him sharply.
“You told me you deleted that.”
The room became silent.
Daniel realized what he had said.
Claire stared at him.
Rebecca slowly lowered her drink.
Arthur’s expression hardened.
Mason tried to recover.
“That email is fake.”
Claire opened the attachment.
It contained instructions to transfer four hundred thousand dollars through one of the shell companies.
The authorization code belonged to Daniel.
Arthur turned toward his son.
“Explain.”
Daniel stood.
“I moved funds temporarily.”
“For what purpose?”
“A confidential acquisition.”
“What acquisition?”
“I cannot discuss it in front of Claire.”
Arthur’s voice became quiet.
“You will discuss it in front of whoever I choose.”
Daniel looked at Mason.
Mason looked at Rebecca.
Claire saw the calculation passing between them.
Arthur pointed to the envelope.
“At midnight, I will decide who remains in my will.”
Rebecca laughed nervously.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“You would destroy this family over an accounting dispute?”
“No,” Arthur said. “You destroyed it. I am deciding who receives the remains.”
He rose with Claire’s help.
As they left the room, Mason spoke.
“What does Eleanor Vale have to do with the money?”
Arthur stopped.
Claire turned.
Mason’s expression revealed that he regretted the question.
Arthur looked at him for a long time.
“Why would you ask that?”
Mason swallowed.
“No reason.”
“You were eight when Eleanor died.”
“I heard the name.”
“From whom?”
Mason glanced at Daniel.
Daniel answered.
“Everyone at the company knew about the accident.”
Arthur took one step toward him.
“It was never called an accident.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
Arthur continued.
“The newspapers called it an explosion. The police called it suspicious. I called it murder.”
Rebecca whispered, “Arthur.”
Mason’s face went pale.
Claire looked at her grandfather.
“You believe Eleanor was murdered?”
“I have always believed it.”
“By whom?”
Arthur’s gaze never left Daniel.
“Someone who feared what she knew.”
The lights flickered.
When they came back, Margaret stood in the doorway.
Her face was white.
“Mr. Hawthorne,” she said. “There is someone outside.”
Daniel turned.
“In this storm?”
Margaret nodded.
“A woman.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“Who is she?”
Margaret looked directly at her.
“She says she is Claire Hawthorne.”
No one moved.
Arthur gripped the back of a chair.
Rebecca whispered, “That’s impossible.”
A knock sounded from the front door.
Three slow knocks.
May you like
Then a woman’s voice called through the wood.
“Grandfather, please let me in.”
