Chương 8
“I froze.”
“You watched me fall.”
“I know.”
Claire closed her eyes.
He did not correct himself.
When she opened them, Ethan was crying.
Quietly.
It did not move her the way he hoped.
Maybe he did not hope.
That almost made it worse.
“I loved you,” Claire said.
His face twisted.
She continued before he could answer.
“I need you to understand that sentence is not forgiveness. It is evidence.”
He looked at her.
“Evidence of what?”
“That I am not going to rewrite six years because you ruined one.”
His mouth opened.
Claire stood carefully.
“But I am also not going to rewrite what you did because those six years were good.”
She picked up her bag.
Ethan stood.
“Claire.”
She stopped.
“When she’s born—”
He could not finish.
Claire looked at him.
“We will figure out what kind of father you are after we figure out what kind of man you have chosen to be.”
She left.
In the elevator, her hands shook so badly Maya had to press the lobby button.
Neither spoke until the doors closed.
Then Maya said, “That was horrible.”
Claire leaned her head against the mirrored wall.
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to say something useful?”
“No.”
“Good.”
They rode down sixteen floors in silence.
In the lobby, Maya’s phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
Her face changed.
Claire noticed immediately.
“What?”
Maya ended the call.
“Brooks.”
“What happened?”
“They identified the device used to access your e-sign account.”
Claire waited.
“It was yours.”
“My laptop?”
“Your old tablet.”
Claire frowned.
“The one in the library?”
“Yes.”
She had not used it in months.
“Who accessed it?”
“They don’t know yet.”
“Who knew the passcode?”
Maya hesitated.
Claire’s stomach sank.
“Ethan.”
“Yes.”
“He just told me he didn’t use my credentials.”
“Yes.”
Claire closed her eyes.
The elevator doors opened behind them.
People moved around the lobby.
A deliveryman rolled two boxes toward reception.
A woman in a red coat argued quietly into her phone.
Life continued with insulting normality.
Claire turned back toward the elevator.
Maya caught her wrist.
“No.”
“He lied to my face.”
“We do not know that.”
“His device—”
“Your device.”
“He knew the code.”
“So did I.”
Claire stopped.
Maya’s hand fell away.
“You?”
“You gave it to me once when you were in labor-prep class and needed a board document.”
Claire stared.
“Who else?”
“House staff may have seen it. Ethan. You. Possibly your sister-in-law when she stayed over last Christmas.”
“Victoria?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire looked toward the glass doors.
Rain had started outside.
She had not noticed.
“Then find out.”
Maya nodded.
This time Claire let the investigation move without her.
For four days.
On the fifth, Brooks called.
The access had come from the townhouse.
The tablet connected to Claire’s home network at 2:13 p.m. on a Tuesday six weeks earlier.
Claire checked her calendar.
She had been at an obstetric appointment.
Ethan had been in Connecticut.
Maya had been with Claire.
The housekeeper had left at noon.
Victoria had arrived at 1:48.
Claire remembered because the front-door camera had captured her.
Victoria told investigators she had stopped by to drop off a christening gown.
There was, in fact, a christening gown.
It had been placed in the nursery.
The tablet had been used twenty-five minutes later.
“It’s circumstantial,” Brooks told Claire.
They were sitting in Daniel’s office.
“Was anyone else in the house?”
“We don’t know.”
“The cameras?”
“Interior cameras are disabled.”
“Exterior?”
“No one else entered through the front door.”
“Back?”
“One service entrance. Camera was offline.”
“For how long?”
“Thirty-seven minutes.”
Claire stared at him.
“Convenient.”
“Yes.”
“Too convenient?”
Brooks gave her a brief look.
“You’re learning.”
She did not appreciate the tone.
“Did Victoria know the camera was offline?”
“We’re looking at that.”
“Why was it offline?”
“Network update.”
“Scheduled?”
“Yes.”
Claire leaned back.
“So she may have known because she was lucky.”
“Or because someone told her.”
“Who?”
“We’re looking.”
Claire exhaled.
The baby kicked.
Brooks glanced at her belly.
“When are you due?”
“Three weeks.”
“Does she know that?”
“I hope so.”
He smiled slightly.
Then his expression returned to business.
“There’s something else.”
Claire hated that phrase.
“Go ahead.”
“Ethan’s office records.”
“What about them?”
“The original investment agreement shows the foundation’s participation was approved by three directors.”
“That sounds good.”
“Two say they never approved it.”
Claire’s fingers tightened.
“And the third?”
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Seven months ago.”
Claire stared.
“Before the agreement?”
“No. After.”
“So two alleged signatures are false.”
“Possibly.”
“Whose idea?”
“We don’t know.”
“Victoria.”
“Maybe.”
“Ethan?”
“Maybe.”
“Who benefits?”
“Both.”
Claire looked toward Daniel.
He was watching Brooks.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Brooks closed the folder.
“Ethan supplied the agreement voluntarily before the gala.”
Claire frowned.
“I know.”
“What you may not know is that he attached a statement.”
“What statement?”
“He said he believed the board approvals were valid at the time he entered the transaction.”
“Meaning he blames Victoria.”
“Meaning that is what he says.”
“And?”
“And one of the directors says Ethan personally called him afterward and asked him to confirm the investment had been discussed.”
Claire felt cold.
“When?”
“Two months after the money moved.”
“So Ethan knew there was a problem.”
“At minimum, he knew he needed confirmation.”
Claire thought of the conference room.
I stopped trusting my mother.
Maybe he had.
Maybe only after helping her.
“Did the director confirm?”
“No.”
“What did he say?”
“He told Ethan he had never approved it.”
Claire looked down.
“And Ethan still kept the money.”
“Yes.”
The word sat between them.
That night she did something she had resisted for a week.
She went into Ethan’s closet.
Not to search.
Investigators had already searched it.
She sat on the floor between his suits and cried.
There was no revelation.
No hidden document.
No second phone.
May you like
Just shoes, shirts, cedar hangers, and the faint smell of the cologne he had worn since she met him.
She found a dry-cleaning ticket in a jacket pocket and became absurdly angry that he had forgotten to pick up two shirts.
