Chapter 1 - THE DOCUMENT UNDER THE DIVORCE PAPERS
My father unfolded the document slowly.
The room had become so quiet that I could hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.
Ryan stood beside the coffee table, one hand gripping his phone.
“Give me that,” he said.
Dad didn't move.
Instead, he adjusted his glasses and read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
His expression changed.
Not dramatically.
That was what frightened me.
My father had spent thirty years as a federal investigator. I had seen him read threatening letters, criminal complaints, and photographs from cases that would have made most people sick.
He never reacted quickly.
But now his jaw tightened.
“Claire,” he said, “do you recognize this company?”
I leaned closer.
At the top of the page was the logo of a private property management company.
Below it was an address.
Our old house.
My stomach dropped.
“What is it?”
Dad continued reading.
“It says the property was insured for nearly twice its actual value six weeks before the fire.”
Ryan closed his eyes.
“That's not what you think.”
I looked at him.
“Then tell me what I'm supposed to think.”
He said nothing.
Dad turned another page.
There were signatures.
Ryan's.
Natalie's.
And one more.
My mother's.
I stared at the third signature.
“No.”
My father looked at me.
“Yes.”
“My mother had nothing to do with our house.”
“That isn't what this document says.”
Ryan stepped forward.
“Claire, your mother didn't know what they were doing.”
I almost laughed.
“Then why is her signature here?”
He swallowed.
“Because she was asked to witness something.”
“What?”
Ryan's phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
This time I saw the message before he could turn it away.
DON'T TELL HER ABOUT THE SECOND FIRE.
My heart stopped.
“The second fire?”
Ryan immediately locked the phone.
Dad stood.
“Who sent that?”
“No one.”
Dad's voice became dangerously calm.
“Ryan, I suggest you start telling the truth.”
Ryan looked at me.
For the first time since I had known him, I saw something behind his eyes that wasn't guilt.
It was fear.
“I didn't know there would be a second fire.”
My father froze.
I felt the room tilt beneath me.
“What do you mean?”
Ryan rubbed both hands over his face.
“Natalie told me the first fire would only destroy the records.”
“What records?”
He didn't answer.
I stepped toward him.
“My medical records?”
“No.”
“The insurance documents?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Ryan finally looked at me.
“Your father's old investigation.”
Dad's face went pale.
I had never heard my father speak about that investigation.
Not once.
It had happened before I was born.
He had always called it “an old case.”
Nothing more.
But suddenly the fire in our house, Ryan's affair, the strange insurance policy, Natalie, and my mother's signature were beginning to form a pattern.
My father walked to the window.
“What investigation?”
Ryan looked at him.
“The Bennett Foundation case.”
Dad's shoulders stiffened.
“That file was closed.”
“No,” Ryan whispered. “It was buried.”
I stared at both men.
“What foundation?”
Neither answered.
Then the front doorbell rang.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Dad moved toward the hallway.
Ryan grabbed my wrist.
“Don't let him in.”
“Who?”
Ryan looked toward the door.
“Natalie's brother.”
Dad stopped.
“Why?”
Ryan's voice dropped.
“Because he was supposed to be dead.”
The doorbell rang again.
And this time, someone slid an envelope underneath the door.
May you like
There was only one sentence written across the front.
CLAIRE BENNETT KNOWS TOO MUCH.
