Chương 9
“I want my house,” Claire said.
Beth studied her. “Do you?”
“It’s mine too.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Claire looked down at her left hand. Her wedding ring had been placed in a plastic belongings bag in the bedside drawer because swelling made it unsafe to wear. The pale indentation remained around her finger.
“I want to be the one who decides whether I can stand being there.”
They arranged for the locks to be changed. Mrs. Alvarez would bring Milo home after Claire arrived. Beth helped schedule a visiting nurse and an advocate. Naomi hired a security company to inspect the alarm system because Dominic had managed the account and could have retained access.
The practical tasks steadied Claire. Every decision closed a small opening through which Dominic might reach her. New passwords. New bank accounts. New phone carrier PIN. Frozen credit reports. Revoked account permissions. A list of people permitted to receive medical information.
At the bottom of that list, Claire wrote nobody, then crossed it out and added Naomi Park.
The detective assigned to the case, Marisol Bennett, came that evening. She was in her late forties, with close-cropped hair and a navy blazer over a plain shirt. She spoke quietly and never used the word victim unless referring to a form.
Bennett had interviewed Mrs. Alvarez. She had photographed the front steps, the broken lamp, blood near the console table, and a smear along the interior side of the front door. Dominic claimed the blood came from Claire falling against the table.
“Did he explain the bruising on your neck?” Bennett asked.
“He said I attacked him and he restrained me.”
“Did you?”
“I scratched his hand.”
“Anything else?”
“I threw a ceramic bowl.”
“At him?”
“Near him.”
“Why?”
“He had my laptop.”
“Did the bowl strike him?”
“No.”
“Did it break?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Against the wall in the study.”
Bennett nodded. “We found pieces.”
Claire waited for condemnation.
Bennett only asked, “Before he took the laptop, what was on the screen?”
“A transfer record from my trust to North Orchard Consulting.”
“Why were you looking?”
“I found an insurance notice in his briefcase three weeks ago. It referenced a policy number I didn’t recognize.”
“You went through his briefcase?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Claire’s first impulse was to defend herself. Instead she said, “Because I stopped trusting him.”
“What did you find?”
“An annual policy statement. Eight million dollars in coverage on my life.”
Bennett’s pen paused. “Did the statement identify a beneficiary?”
“Dominic. And my father’s company as contingent.”
“Your father’s company?”
“North Orchard.”
Bennett sat back. “Your attorney mentioned possible financial evidence but did not provide details without your consent.”
“You have it.”
“Are you authorizing her to share relevant files with law enforcement?”
“Yes.”
“Some documents may contain private financial information unrelated to the assault.”
“I don’t care.”
“You might later.”
Claire looked at the detective. “Do you say that to everyone?”
“I say it when someone has just learned that several people they trusted may have used her money. Consent given in shock can feel different next week.”
Claire considered the folder. It contained tax records, account numbers, scanned identification, internal emails Dominic had saved. Opening it to detectives meant losing control over what remained private. It also meant Dominic would learn exactly what she possessed through his lawyer eventually.
“Share copies related to the policies, North Orchard, and any forged signatures,” Claire said. “Naomi can review the rest first.”
Bennett nodded. “That is specific enough.”
“Are you going to arrest him?”
“I’m continuing the investigation.”
“He admitted taking the laptop.”
“He said he removed it because it contained confidential information belonging to his clients.”
“It was my laptop.”
“He says the computer belongs to his firm.”
“It was a birthday gift.”
“Do you have proof?”
“Probably. The receipt may be in my email.”
“Find it when you can.”
Claire’s frustration rose. “My neck is proof.”
“Your injuries are important evidence. So are his statements, the scene, witness accounts, medical findings, digital records, and anything showing prior conduct.”
“What would be enough?”
Bennett met her eyes. “There is no answer I can give you tonight that would be honest.”
Claire turned toward the window.
The detective waited. “Did Dominic ever choke you before?”
“No.”
“Threaten to kill you?”
“No.”
“Threaten himself?”
“Once.”
“What happened?”
“I said I needed space. He put his gun on the kitchen counter and said he didn’t know what he would become if I left.”
“Did he point it at anyone?”
“No.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“My mother.”
“When?”
“That night.”
“What did she say?”
Claire felt something inside her go still. “She called him.”
Bennett closed her notebook. “I want copies of those messages.”
The messages were gone from Claire’s phone. Dominic had persuaded her to delete old conversations to free storage before a trip. But her cloud account retained backups from an older tablet locked in the drawer of her office desk.
The office was in downtown Chicago, on the twenty-second floor of a renovated insurance building where Claire worked as design director for a hospitality firm. She had not been there since the assault. Dominic knew the building and had attended company parties, but the protection order barred him from approaching.
Naomi arranged for one of her associates to collect the tablet with Claire’s written permission. The associate returned with bad news: the drawer was empty.
Only three people had keys to Claire’s office—Claire, the facilities manager, and her assistant, Jenna Cole.
Jenna called the hospital before Claire could call her.
“I heard you were sick,” she said.
Claire had known Jenna for six years. She was thirty, quick-talking, chronically early, with a habit of sending voice notes while walking between meetings. She was also the person who knew where Claire kept spare shoes, migraine tablets, and the emergency granola bars she pretended not to eat.
“Who told you?” Claire asked.
May you like
“Dominic emailed Martin and said you had a serious accident at home.”
Martin was their managing partner.
