Chapter 2 - THE HUSBAND WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
Claire didn't go home immediately.
She sat in her car across from Samuel's office for nearly twenty minutes, staring at her phone.
Twenty-three missed calls.
All from Mark.
Then a message appeared.
WHERE ARE YOU?
Another followed.
WE NEED TO TALK.
Then:
SAMUEL CALLED ME.
Claire's stomach tightened.
She hadn't told Mark she was meeting Samuel.
She immediately called Samuel.
“How does Mark know?”
Samuel's voice became serious.
“Because someone told him.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Claire looked into the rearview mirror.
A black SUV was parked half a block away.
It had been there when she left the office.
She started the engine.
The SUV started too.
Claire drove.
It followed.
She turned onto a busy road.
It stayed behind her.
Her hands tightened around the steering wheel.
She called Samuel again.
“I think someone is following me.”
“Don't go home.”
“Where should I go?”
“Police station.”
Claire drove directly there.
The SUV disappeared before she reached the entrance.
Inside, she sat in the lobby until her breathing slowed.
Then Mark called.
She answered.
“Where are you?”
“At the police station.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“Because you knew about my father's investigation.”
Mark laughed nervously.
“What are you talking about?”
“Northbridge Holdings.”
Another silence.
This one was longer.
Claire closed her eyes.
“Mark?”
“I don't know what your father told you.”
“He's dead.”
Mark's voice softened.
“Claire, you're grieving.”
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend I'm confused.”
Mark sighed.
“Come home.”
“No.”
“We're married.”
“That's exactly why I'm asking questions.”
His tone changed.
“You're making a mistake.”
Claire ended the call.
She immediately noticed a new email.
From an address she didn't recognize.
Subject:
YOUR FATHER WAS RIGHT.
There was one attachment.
A photograph.
Mark.
His mother.
His sister.
And Claire's father.
All sitting around the same table.
The date was two years earlier.
Claire stared.
She had been told Mark barely knew her father at that time.
Apparently, that was a lie.
A second attachment contained bank records.
Payments from a company connected to Patricia.
To a private investigator.
To a notary.
And to a man named Gerald Voss.
Claire searched the name.
Samuel answered when she called.
“Do you know Gerald Voss?”
There was a long pause.
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“Your father's former business partner.”
Claire frowned.
“I thought he died.”
“He did.”
“When?”
“Eight years ago.”
Claire stared at the bank records.
The newest payment to Gerald Voss was dated six months ago.
“That can't be.”
Samuel's voice lowered.
“Claire, don't open anything else until you come back here.”
Too late.
The email contained another file.
A scanned death certificate.
Gerald Voss.
Date of death: eight years ago.
Then another document.
A bank transfer signed six months ago.
The recipient:
G. Voss.
Claire felt cold.
Someone had been using a dead man's identity.
Samuel explained that Gerald had once controlled forty percent of Northbridge.
After his death, his shares were supposed to pass into a family trust.
But the trust had been challenged.
For years.
By Mark's family.
Claire finally understood why her father had been worried.
Mark wasn't trying to access her inheritance.
He was trying to control the company behind it.
And there was something else.
Samuel sent her one final document.
It was an old email from her father.
Claire read it.
If anything happens to me, do not trust anyone who says they are protecting Claire.
She may already be surrounded.
Claire's heart pounded.
She called Samuel.
“What does that mean?”
He answered quietly.
“Your father suspected someone close to you was reporting everything you did.”
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
Claire looked at her phone.
Then she noticed something.
A small icon appeared beside her email.
Someone was logged into her account.
She changed the password.
The session remained active.
She tried again.
Still active.
Someone had administrative access.
Claire whispered:
“Mark.”
Samuel said:
“Don't assume.”
“Then who?”
Samuel was silent.
Claire heard a noise behind her.
She turned.
A man stood across the police station lobby.
Watching her.
She recognized him.
The same man from the photograph with Mark.
Their eyes met.
He immediately walked outside.
Claire followed.
The man disappeared around the corner.
But something had fallen from his coat.
A small envelope.
Claire picked it up.
Her name was written on the front.
Inside was one sentence:
ASK MARK WHAT HAPPENED THE NIGHT YOUR FATHER CALLED HIM.
Claire froze.
She had never heard about that call.
She called Mark.
He answered immediately.
“Claire?”
“What happened the night Dad called you?”
Silence.
Then Mark whispered:
“How did you find out about that?”
Claire's blood ran cold.
Because his answer told her everything.
May you like
He wasn't surprised that her father had called.
He was surprised that she knew.
