Chapter 5: The Woman Who Knew Too Much
I didn't open the envelope immediately.
After everything that had happened, I had finally learned that urgency was Ethan's favorite weapon. He wanted me frightened, confused, and moving too quickly to notice the details.
So I carried the envelope inside, placed it on the kitchen island, and made coffee.
Daniel watched me pour the water.
"You're making coffee?""
"Yes.""
"Now?""
I looked at him.
"If I don't do something ordinary, I might start screaming.""
He considered that, then nodded.
"Fair enough.""
Margaret remained by the kitchen window, watching Ethan pace across the patio. He had put on a dry shirt, but his hair was still damp, and his hands kept opening and closing at his sides.
Brooke sat at the far end of the dining table, wrapped in one of my spare bathrobes. I had given it to her because I wasn't going to let her freeze, not because I had forgiven her.
She hadn't said much since Rebecca's call.
Every time I looked at her, she lowered her eyes.
I placed four cups on the island.
"Before anyone opens that envelope, I want answers.""
Ethan stopped pacing.
"Claire, please. We should talk privately.""
"No. You lost that privilege when you brought another woman into our pool.""
Brooke flinched.
I continued.
"Margaret, I want to know what the company is investigating. Daniel, I want to know whether your wife has ever told you anything about Victor Sloane. And Ethan—"
I looked directly at him.
"I want to know why Rebecca said someone else in my house has been lying to me.""
Brooke began crying again.
Daniel turned toward her.
"Do you know what she meant?""
"No.""
"Look at me when you answer.""
Brooke lifted her face.
"I swear, Daniel, I don't know what Rebecca was talking about.""
He studied her for a long moment.
Then he turned away.
Margaret broke the silence.
"The company investigation began six weeks ago. We discovered that nearly half a million dollars had been transferred out of the development account through a vendor called Westbridge Consulting.""
"Who owns Westbridge?"" I asked.
"We don't know for certain. The registered address belongs to a commercial mailbox service.""
"And Ethan's involved?""
"His credentials approved one of the transfers.""
Ethan slammed his palm against the counter.
"I've explained this. The transfer was temporary.""
Margaret didn't even blink.
"Then show us where the money went.""
"I can't do that without access to the banking records.""
"You have access.""
"Not anymore.""
"Because your credentials were suspended yesterday," Margaret replied.
"After the auditor found the second authorization.""
I turned toward Ethan.
"Second authorization?""
He looked away.
Margaret opened her portfolio and removed a document.
"This one was submitted in February. It authorizes the transfer of certain assets if the primary account holder becomes unavailable.""
My mouth went dry.
"Who is the primary account holder?""
Margaret hesitated.
"You are, Claire.""
For a moment, I couldn't hear anything.
Then the refrigerator hummed, the coffee maker clicked, and somewhere outside a lawn mower started up.
I stared at the paper.
"My name is on this?""
"Yes.""
"But I never opened a development account.""
"You didn't open it," Margaret said.
"You were added to it.""
I turned toward Ethan.
He looked almost sick.
"You told me those papers were for the mortgage.""
"They were part of a larger financial arrangement.""
"You lied to me.""
"I was trying to protect our assets.""
"From what?""
He rubbed his face.
"From a collapse that would have taken everything.""
"Whose collapse? Yours? The company's? Or the money you stole?""
He recoiled as if I'd struck him.
"Don't call me a thief.""
"Then stop making me look like one.""
The words came out before I could stop them.
For eleven years, I had defended Ethan when people questioned his decisions. I had explained away his long hours, his business dinners, and the mysterious calls he sometimes took in the garage.
I had told myself that marriage meant standing beside someone when life became difficult.
But standing beside him had become indistinguishable from standing in front of him, taking the blows.
I picked up the envelope.
The seal was already partly torn, as if someone had opened it and closed it again.
Inside was a stack of printed photographs, a bank statement, and a folded handwritten note.
The first photograph showed Ethan and Brooke standing outside a hotel.
They weren't kissing.
They were arguing.
Brooke held a thick manila folder against her chest while Ethan pointed toward a black sedan parked beside the entrance.
The date printed beneath the image was February 19.
The second photograph showed Brooke entering our house at 10:17 p.m. on the same date.
The third showed Ethan leaving the garage at 11:42 p.m., carrying a small silver case.
I looked up.
"Brooke, what was in that folder?""
She stared at the photograph.
"I don't remember.""
"Try.""
Her fingers twisted together.
"It was paperwork.""
"What paperwork?""
"Financial documents.""
Daniel laughed bitterly.
"Of course it was.""
Brooke turned toward him.
"Please, Daniel. I was trying to help someone.""
"Who?""
She didn't answer.
I opened the bank statement.
The account belonged to Westbridge Consulting.
A transfer of $120,000 had been made on February 19.
The recipient's name was partially obscured by a black marker, but the last four digits of the account matched the account Margaret had mentioned earlier.
I unfolded the note.
The handwriting was hurried and uneven.
Claire, if this has reached you, Ethan has failed to keep his promise. I tried to warn you once, but he convinced you I was unstable. I am sorry I didn't try harder.
There was no signature.
Only one final line.
Ask Brooke what she did with the original birth certificate.
I looked at Brooke.
Her face had gone completely white.
Daniel noticed.
"What birth certificate?""
Brooke stood so quickly that her chair scraped across the floor.
"I need to leave.""
"No," I said.
She reached for her handbag.
Daniel took it from the table and set it behind him.
"You can leave when you answer the question.""
"Daniel, please.""
"What did you do with the birth certificate?""
Brooke covered her mouth.
Tears streamed down her face.
"I didn't know what it meant!""
Ethan stepped forward.
"Stop talking, Brooke.""
She spun toward him.
"You promised me this would be over!""
The words landed like a glass shattering.
I felt every person in the kitchen go still.
Ethan's voice dropped.
"Be careful.""
Brooke laughed through her tears.
"Careful? I've been careful for a year. I've lied to my husband, lied to Claire, and lied to myself because you said everything would be fixed.""
Daniel stared at her.
"You've been lying to me for a year?""
Brooke's shoulders collapsed.
"I thought I was helping Victor.""
"Helping him how?""
She looked at me.
"The baby in the photograph isn't just Victor's daughter.""
I gripped the edge of the counter.
"Rebecca already told me that.""
Brooke shook her head.
"No. You don't understand. Rebecca's daughter was born with a medical condition. Victor needed money for treatment, and he believed someone at the company had deliberately frozen his accounts.""
Margaret leaned forward.
"What condition?""
"I don't know. He never told me.""
"Then why were you involved?""
Brooke looked at Ethan.
"Because Ethan said he could help.""
Ethan's face hardened.
"That's enough.""
"No!"" Brooke shouted.
"I'm done protecting you.""
She reached into her bathrobe pocket and pulled out a small folded paper.
"I kept a copy.""
Ethan lunged toward her.
Daniel caught his arm.
Brooke backed against the wall, shaking.
She unfolded the paper and placed it on the island.
It was a photocopy of a birth certificate.
The child's name was Lily Sloane.
Father: Victor Sloane.
Mother: Rebecca Sloane.
But beneath the official information was a handwritten notation in blue ink.
*Emergency guardian: Claire Bennett.*
I stared at the page.
"What?""
Brooke nodded through her tears.
"Victor put your name on it.""
"Why would he do that? I've never even met his wife.""
"Because he trusted you.""
"Why?""
She looked toward Ethan.
"Because he believed you were the only person Ethan couldn't control.""
Ethan shoved Daniel away.
"She's lying!""
Brooke flinched but continued.
"Victor said Claire was the only honest person in your life. He said if anything happened to him, you would know what to do.""
My hands trembled.
"Where is the original?""
Brooke looked at the front door.
"I gave it to someone.""
"Who?""
Before she could answer, the doorbell rang.
Everyone turned.
I walked to the front door and looked through the glass.
Two police officers stood on the porch.
Behind them was a woman in a dark suit, holding a leather folder.
She introduced herself as Detective Laura Mitchell.
"Claire Bennett?""
"Yes.""
"May we come inside?""
I opened the door.
Detective Mitchell stepped into the foyer and looked past me toward the kitchen.
Her eyes landed on Ethan.
Then she held up a photograph.
It showed the same dark-haired woman from the motel.
Rebecca Sloane.
Only this time, she wasn't holding a baby.
She was standing beside a police cruiser, her wrists cuffed behind her back.
Detective Mitchell looked at me.
"Mrs. Bennett, we need to ask you some questions about Victor Sloane's disappearance.""
May you like
She paused.
"And we need to know why your husband transferred money to the account that paid for Rebecca's escape.""
