Chương 11
“Name?”
“No.”
“Did your father carry anything?”
Claire frowned.
“A document envelope.”
“What color?”
“Brown.”
“Anything written on it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he take you into the vault area?”
“Yes.”
Daniel was silent for a beat.
“You saw the box?”
“I think so.”
“Size?”
“Small.”
“Number?”
“No.”
“Did you touch it?”
Claire searched the memory.
The smell of cold air-conditioning came back.
A gray carpet.
Her father tapping his keys impatiently.
A metal tray on a table.
He had told her to sign something.
Then he had opened the box.
Inside were papers wrapped with a red rubber band.
“No,” Claire said.
“I didn’t touch it.”
“Did you see what was inside?”
“Documents.”
“What kind?”
“I didn’t read them.”
“Anything else?”
Claire pressed her lips together.
Something flickered.
A velvet pouch.
Dark blue.
Her father had moved it quickly beneath the papers when she looked over.
“There was a small bag.”
“What kind of bag?”
“Velvet.”
“Jewelry?”
“I don’t know.”
“Anything that would belong to your grandfather?”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
Her grandfather had worn a heavy gold watch.
She remembered because he let her listen to it tick against her ear when she was little.
After he died, Diane said it had been sold to cover expenses.
“I don’t know.”
Daniel exhaled softly.
“All right.”
“What happens now?”
“I find your father.”
“And I stay here.”
“Yes.”
“I hate that.”
“I know.”
The call ended.
Claire lowered the phone.
Maya reached toward the water cup.
“Drink.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Drink anyway.”
Claire obeyed.
The water tasted metallic.
She handed the cup back.
“I need to see my daughter.”
Maya nodded.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“That is the first thing you’ve said in twenty minutes that has nothing to do with fraud.”
Claire looked toward the doorway.
“What if they won’t let me yet?”
“Then we ask when they will.”
“What if something happened?”
Maya’s face softened.
“Then somebody would have told us.”
Claire hated how badly she needed to believe that.
A nurse entered before either woman could say more.
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
“Your baby is stable enough for you to visit.”
Claire’s shoulders dropped.
The relief hurt.
“Now?”
“If you feel up to being moved.”
“I do.”
The nurse smiled faintly.
“I expected that answer.”
They transferred Claire into a wheelchair with painstaking slowness.
Every movement pulled at her incision.
She gritted her teeth and refused to complain until Maya said, “You know this isn’t a competition.”
“With what?”
“Yourself.”
“That sounds like something from a mug.”
“It probably is.”
The NICU was warmer than Claire expected.
Soft alarms sounded everywhere, none of them urgent enough to explain themselves.
A nurse guided her to a clear bassinet beneath a heat lamp.
Claire stopped breathing.
Her daughter looked impossibly small.
Tubes and wires ran beneath the blanket.
A tiny cap covered her head.
Claire’s first instinct was anger.
Not at anyone.
At scale.
At how little a person could be and still be expected to survive anything.
“This is your mom,” the nurse said softly.
Claire swallowed.
“I know.”
The nurse smiled.
“I was telling her.”
Claire blinked.
“Oh.”
Maya looked away to hide a smile.
The nurse explained what each monitor did.
Claire listened carefully.
She asked too many questions.
The nurse answered all of them.
Oxygen.
Temperature.
Feeding.
Breathing support.
What they were watching.
What they were not yet worried about.
No promises.
Claire respected that.
“Can I touch her?”
“Yes.”
The nurse showed her where to place a hand.
Claire slipped two fingers through the opening in the bassinet.
Her daughter’s hand curled around one.
The grip was weak.
It was still a grip.
Claire bowed her head.
Maya stood behind her without speaking.
For several minutes, the rest of the world disappeared.
There was no Ethan.
No trust.
No Westbridge.
No father hiding somewhere with a bank key.
There was only a tiny hand around Claire’s finger.
Then Claire’s phone vibrated.
She ignored it.
It vibrated again.
Maya glanced at the screen.
“Daniel.”
Claire did not move.
“Let it ring.”
Maya nodded.
The call stopped.
A message arrived.
Maya read it silently.
Her expression changed.
“What?”
Maya hesitated.
“What?”
“They found your father.”
Claire slowly withdrew her hand from the bassinet.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Maya read again.
“At Atlantic Federal.”
Claire stared at her.
“The bank?”
“Yes.”
“At five in the morning?”
“He apparently got inside.”
“How?”
“Daniel says there was a security employee on site.”
Claire’s pulse quickened.
“What happened?”
“He wants you to call.”
Claire looked back at her daughter.
The baby’s chest rose beneath the blanket.
Once.
Twice.
Claire touched the edge of the bassinet.
“I’ll be back.”
The words felt ridiculous because the baby could not understand them.
She said them anyway.
Maya wheeled Claire into a family consultation room near the NICU.
Claire called Daniel.
He answered immediately.
“Your father is safe.”
“You said he was at the bank.”
“He was.”
“How did he get inside?”
“A facilities supervisor was there for overnight maintenance.”
“And Dad just knocked?”
“Not exactly.”
“What exactly?”
“He has known the supervisor for years.”
Claire stared at the wall.
“Of course he has.”
“He convinced the man there was an emergency involving personal documents.”
“And the man let him into the vault?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“Your father attempted to access a private storage area before the vault.”
Claire frowned.
“Why?”
“He says he was looking for a duplicate key.”
“To the safe-deposit box?”
“Yes.”
“He already had one.”
“The key found in Ethan’s car was one of two.”
Claire’s stomach turned.
“Dad had the other?”
“Apparently.”
“Why was he looking for a duplicate if he already had one?”
“He claims his key was missing.”
“Convenient.”
“I agree.”
“Did he tell you what’s in the box?”
“No.”
“Did you arrest him?”
A pause.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because being suspicious at a bank before dawn is not, by itself, enough.”
“He moved money out of my trust.”
“We’re building that case.”
May you like
“He left the house after Ethan called.”
“We’re examining that too.”
