Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN IN THE PARKING GARAGE
We found Ethan three days later.
Not in Chicago.
In Denver.
He had been using a different name for years.
The detective who helped us locate him warned us that he was dangerous.
Dad disagreed.
“He isn't the mastermind.”
“How do you know?”
“Because men like him don't disappear for twelve years unless they're running from someone.”
We found him in a parking garage beneath an old office building.
He was older than I expected.
Gray at the temples.
Thin.
Tired.
He raised both hands when he saw Dad.
“I didn't kill anyone.”
Dad stepped forward.
“You started the fire.”
Ethan shook his head.
“I started the fire alarm.”
“What?”
“I wanted everyone out.”
I stared at him.
“Then who started the actual fire?”
He looked at me.
“Your mother.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“She poured gasoline?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“She lit the fire.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Why?”
“Because someone else had already planted an explosive device.”
Ryan stepped forward.
“An explosive?”
Ethan nodded.
“They were going to destroy the entire house.”
“Who?”
He looked directly at Ryan.
“Your wife knows.”
Ryan went pale.
“Natalie?”
Ethan nodded.
“She was working for your father.”
Ryan froze.
“My father?”
I looked at him.
“What is he talking about?”
Ryan had no answer.
Ethan continued.
“Your father was involved with the foundation from the beginning.”
Ryan stepped backward.
“No.”
“His company handled the financial transfers.”
“That doesn't mean—”
“He knew where the money was going.”
Ethan reached into his coat and removed a folded document.
“This is why Natalie approached you.”
I took it.
It was a list of accounts.
Ryan's father's company appeared on every page.
My father looked at the document.
“This isn't enough.”
Ethan smiled bitterly.
“There's more.”
He handed me a small key.
“Your grandmother left the original records in Chicago.”
“The safe-deposit box?”
“Yes.”
“What's inside?”
“Proof that your husband's family stole millions.”
Ryan looked shattered.
“Why would Natalie target Claire?”
“Because your wife was the only person who could activate the trust.”
“And if I died?”
“The trust would freeze.”
“And the money?”
“Would remain under court control for decades.”
I stared at Ethan.
“So the fire was supposed to kill me?”
“No.”
He looked at Ryan.
“It was supposed to make your death look accidental.”
Ryan whispered:
“Then why did she save me?”
Ethan's expression hardened.
“She didn't.”
The words landed like a gunshot.
“What?”
“Your husband wasn't supposed to survive either.”
I looked at Ryan.
For years, I had believed he was the victim of the fire.
He had been unconscious.
He had suffered smoke inhalation.
He had told everyone I saved his life.
But now—
“Ryan,” I whispered.
“What?”
“Were you unconscious when I found you?”
His eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
Ethan shook his head.
“No.”
Ryan looked at him.
“What?”
“You weren't unconscious.”
Silence.
“You were pretending.”
I stepped away from my husband.
“No.”
Ryan covered his face.
“Claire…”
“You knew.”
“I knew something was wrong.”
“You knew about the fire.”
“I knew they were coming.”
“And you stayed.”
Ryan cried.
“I thought I could stop it.”
“You let me go back inside.”
“I thought I could get you out.”
“But you didn't.”
“I was afraid.”
I looked at the man I had spent years loving.
Then I saw something behind Ethan.
A woman stood near the garage entrance.
Dark coat.
Blonde hair.
Natalie.
May you like
She was holding a gun.
And she was smiling.
