Chương 4
“It isn't an excuse.”
“Then tell Cole.”
“I have.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
The lie came too cleanly.
Claire knew his honest voice.
Honesty made Daniel slower.
He often sounded uncertain when telling the truth because he cared about precision. Lies came out polished.
“What happened after dinner?”
“You went to the study.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Where were you?”
“In the library with Graham.”
“All night?”
“No.”
“When did you leave?”
“Claire.”
“When?”
“Around ten.”
The fire alarm had activated at 10:41.
She knew that from the news.
“Where did you go?”
“My room.”
“Your room?”
“Our room.”
“You stopped calling it ours quickly.”
“That isn't what I meant.”
The door opened.
Maya entered with Cole behind her.
Cole took in the scene: Claire standing, Daniel near her, the IV pole between them.
His expression hardened.
“Daniel, outside.”
“This is my wife.”
“And she's a witness in an active investigation.”
“She asked me questions.”
Cole looked at Claire.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want him here?”
Claire glanced at Daniel.
Something in his face made her chest ache.
Not fear.
Hope.
He still believed she might choose him.
She hated that a small part of her wanted to.
“No.”
Daniel's hope disappeared.
He walked out without another word.
Maya helped Claire sit despite Claire's irritation.
Cole remained standing.
“You moved the yacht,” Claire said.
“I asked the captain to come in.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't like interviewing witnesses on floating property controlled by the family I'm investigating.”
Claire almost smiled.
“That seems sensible.”
“I have my moments.”
He pulled the visitor chair closer but did not sit until Claire nodded.
“The card,” she said.
Cole removed a small notebook.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything you can legally tell me.”
“That isn't much.”
“Try.”
He studied her.
“The object recovered from the west study was a partially fire-damaged electronic access credential.”
“Daniel's.”
“Registered to Daniel.”
“What's the difference?”
“The difference matters.”
Claire waited.
Cole continued.
“Briar House uses a layered access system. Most interior rooms don't require credentials. The west study does because it contains business records and a secure cabinet. Daniel had authorized access. So did Margaret, the house manager, and two members of the family's security staff.”
“Did I?”
“No.”
The answer struck harder than she expected.
“I was in a room I wasn't authorized to enter.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“We're still determining that.”
“Daniel let me in.”
“Possibly.”
“Or someone else did.”
“Yes.”
“Could his card have fallen there months ago?”
“No. He used the same credential to access another part of the house earlier that evening.”
“So it was active.”
“Yes.”
“Was it used on the study?”
Cole hesitated.
Claire leaned forward.
“It was.”
“There's a log entry at 10:18 p.m. associated with Daniel's credential.”
“To enter?”
“Yes.”
“What about leaving?”
“The system doesn't record exits.”
“Was the door locked electronically?”
“That's complicated.”
“Make it simple.”
“The west study can be secured from the outside through the access system. From inside, the handle should override the lock mechanically.”
“Should.”
“Yes.”
“But mine didn't.”
“We haven't established that.”
Claire stared at him.
“I remember pulling it.”
“Memory isn't the same as physical proof.”
“I almost burned alive.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Cole's face changed.
Not offended.
Tired.
“More than I want to.”
Claire regretted the question.
She looked down.
“Sorry.”
“Don't be.”
He flipped one page in his notebook.
“The interior mechanism was heavily damaged. Fire investigators initially believed heat deformation may have jammed it.”
“Initially?”
“We found marks.”
“What marks?”
“On the latch assembly.”
Claire's skin prickled.
“What kind?”
“Tool marks.”
Maya stopped writing on the chart.
“From the fire department?”
“No.”
Claire felt the room narrow.
“Someone altered the lock.”
“Possibly before the fire.”
“Possibly?”
“I don't get to upgrade possibilities because they're frightening.”
Claire looked toward the door Daniel had left through.
“Did Daniel have access to tools?”
Cole almost smiled.
“It's a seventy-million-dollar house. Everyone had access to tools.”
“That's not funny.”
“No.”
“Then why did you almost smile?”
“Because rich people always ask that question like screwdrivers belong to a criminal class.”
Maya made a sound that might have been a cough.
Claire surprised herself by laughing.
It hurt.
She pressed a hand carefully against the bandage.
For three seconds nobody discussed arson or betrayal.
Then the door opened again.
Margaret stood there.
She had dressed for shore in tailored cream trousers, a silk blouse and the same pearl earrings. Her composure was fully rebuilt.
“Detective Cole,” she said, “our counsel is waiting in the main salon.”
Cole closed his notebook.
“Good for them.”
“They expect you.”
“I don't work for them.”
“Neither does the truth.”
Claire stared at her.
Margaret noticed.
For a moment embarrassment passed between them.
Margaret touched her own right hand, perhaps remembering the slap.
She did not apologize.
“Claire,” she said, “I would like to speak with you privately.”
“No.”
Margaret absorbed that.
“Later, then.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“You hit me.”
Margaret's chin lifted slightly. “I lost control.”
“You didn't lose control. You aimed.”
Maya looked away.
Cole did not.
Margaret's face reddened.
“My son is being accused of trying to murder his wife.”
“I haven't accused him of murder.”
“You don't have to. Everyone else will do it for you.”
Claire looked at the woman who had welcomed her into the family with a bracelet that cost more than Claire's first apartment and had later criticized the flowers at Claire's mother's funeral because lilies “made everything smell institutional.”
Margaret's cruelty was rarely loud.
That was what made the slap so revealing.
“You care what people will say.”
“I care what falsehoods do.”
“To Daniel.”
“To all of us.”
“There it is.”
Margaret glanced at Cole, then back at Claire.
“You have no idea what happens when a family like ours becomes a public spectacle.”
Claire felt something almost like pity.
“Margaret, I was on fire.”
The older woman's mouth tightened.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
For the first time, her voice broke.
May you like
Only slightly.
Margaret looked toward the window.
