Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT THEY TRIED TO ERASE HER
Clare's apartment had been searched.
That was what the police told her two hours later.
Her bedroom drawers were open.
Books had been pulled from shelves.
Her laptop was missing.
And someone had left a photograph on her kitchen table.
A photograph of Clare standing beside Nathaniel.
Taken on the night they first met.
Across it were four words.
“YOU WERE NEVER RANDOM.”
Clare stared at the image.
Then looked toward Nathaniel.
He'd arrived at the hospital as soon as she called.
Now he stood beside her, looking devastated.
“What does that mean?” she whispered.
“I don't know.”
“Did your father arrange for us to meet?”
Nathaniel shook his head.
“No.”
“Then how did they know about me?”
He looked toward the investigator.
The answer came from a folder recovered during the apartment search.
A background report.
Prepared months before Nathaniel and Clare's first conversation.
It contained her work history.
Research publications.
Financial information.
And a detailed account of her mother's medical treatment.
Clare felt sick.
Someone had been watching her.
Long before Nathaniel approached her at the rooftop bar.
The investigator turned another page.
At the top was a handwritten instruction.
“Place Whitmore within Ashcroft circle.”
Nathaniel stared.
“My father arranged the conference invitation.”
Clare turned toward him.
“What?”
“He encouraged me to attend the pharmaceutical summit. Said it would be useful networking.”
Her stomach tightened.
“And the rooftop bar?”
“My assistant reserved the penthouse.”
Clare looked away.
Their first conversation.
The laughter.
The coffee shop.
The nights in Brooklyn.
Had all of it been arranged?
Nathaniel stepped closer.
“Clare, whatever my father planned, what happened between us was real to me.”
She looked at him.
For a moment, she wanted to believe it.
Then she whispered:
“I need to know whether I was chosen because you loved me or because your family needed someone to blame.”
Nathaniel looked as though she'd struck him.
“I love you.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“That doesn't answer the question.”
Before he could respond, the investigator's phone rang.
She listened carefully.
Then looked toward Nathaniel.
“Mr. Ashcroft, your father's attorney has filed emergency documents.”
Nathaniel frowned.
“What documents?”
“A statement alleging that Clare Whitmore unlawfully obtained confidential pharmaceutical records.”
Clare's heart stopped.
The investigator continued.
“The statement includes a request for an injunction and referral to law enforcement.”
Nathaniel's expression hardened.
“They're trying to silence her.”
Clare stared at the papers.
Then noticed the signature on the accompanying affidavit.
Eleanor Ashcroft.
Nathaniel's mother.
His family was closing ranks.
But that wasn't the worst part.
Attached to the affidavit was a photograph of Clare's mother lying in her hospital bed.
Below it was a handwritten note.
“Margaret's death was not an accident.”
Clare covered her mouth.
Then another message appeared on Nathaniel's phone.
May you like
From Victoria.
“Come to the estate tomorrow. Bring Clare. If you want the truth about her mother, you'll hear it from the person who was there.”
