Chapter 4 - THE MEETING MY HUSBAND DENIED
Ethan had told me he flew to New York early that morning.
But someone had photographed him meeting my father in a Chicago parking garage.
I barely slept.
At dawn, I called Samuel.
He examined the photograph and advised me not to draw conclusions without verifying its date and origin.
But one thing was clear.
Someone wanted me to know about that meeting.
I called Ethan.
He answered immediately.
"Claire?"
"Did you meet my father before you flew to New York?"
Silence.
Then he said, "What?"
"Answer the question."
A pause.
"Yes."
My heart tightened.
"You told me you went straight to the airport."
"I stopped downtown first."
"To see Dad?"
"Yes."
I gripped the phone.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Ethan sighed.
"Because your father and I had an argument."
The room seemed to spin.
"About what?"
"Business."
"What business?"
"Claire, this isn't something we should discuss over the phone."
I laughed bitterly.
"Everything becomes complicated when it's time for you to tell the truth."
His voice tightened.
"Your father accused one of my executives of financial misconduct."
My stomach dropped.
"Who?"
"Elliot Crane."
I recognized the name.
Elliot was Carter Holdings' chief financial officer.
Forty-eight.
Impeccably dressed.
Always polite.
Always standing beside Ethan during company celebrations.
"What did Dad say?"
"He believed Elliot was approving fraudulent vendor payments."
"And what did you do?"
"I told him we'd review it."
I stared at the wall.
"Did you?"
"Yes."
"Before you flew to Victoria?"
Silence.
I closed my eyes.
"Ethan."
"I asked Elliot to prepare a report."
"You asked the man Dad suspected to investigate himself?"
Ethan didn't answer.
For the first time, I heard genuine uncertainty in his breathing.
Then he said quietly, "I didn't know how serious it was."
I felt something inside me turn cold.
"My father came to you for help."
"I know."
"And you left."
"Claire—"
"You left him standing there and flew across the country."
His voice broke.
"I thought it could wait."
That sentence destroyed me more than any excuse could have.
Because it was the same thing he'd been telling me for seven months.
It can wait.
Dinner could wait.
Our anniversary could wait.
Our marriage could wait.
And apparently, my father's warning could wait too.
I ended the call.
Then I went through Dad's desk.
Not searching for money.
Not searching for evidence against Ethan.
Searching for something that might explain why Dad had become so frightened.
In the bottom drawer, I found a small leather notebook.
Its pages were filled with dates, phone numbers, and hurried observations.
On the final page, Dad had written:
Elliot Crane. Northstar. Victoria Hale. Same account.
I stared at Victoria's name.
My husband's ex-girlfriend.
The woman he had abandoned me for again and again.
What did she have to do with fraudulent construction payments?
Below the names was a handwritten number.
Then four words.
CHECK THE NEW YORK TRANSFERS.
I photographed the page and sent it to Samuel.
Twenty minutes later, he called.
His voice sounded strained.
"Claire, the account number matches an entity we've been investigating."
"Who owns it?"
He hesitated.
"A talent management company."
My pulse quickened.
"What talent management company?"
May you like
Samuel exhaled.
"Hale Performance Management. Victoria's company."
