Chapter 2: The Wife Who Never Came Home
For several seconds, no one spoke.
Rain hammered the pavement outside the hotel, and the revolving doors turned behind Ethan as guests drifted into the night.
Emily looked at her husband as though she had never seen him before.
“What did you just say?”” she whispered.
Ethan blinked.
“I didn't mean it that way.””
“You said she was supposed to be dead.””
“I said everyone assumed she was dead.””
“No,” Emily replied.
“You said she was supposed to be dead.””
Ethan reached for her hand.
“Emily, you're tired. You've had an awful evening, and my mother made things worse. Let's go home and talk about this privately.””
Emily pulled her hand away.
“I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me what happened to Claire.””
His expression changed.
The tenderness disappeared first. Then the embarrassment. What remained was a cold, practiced impatience.
“You don't know what you're talking about.””
“Then explain it.””
“Not here.””
Victoria stepped forward.
“She asked you a question. Answer it.””
Ethan turned toward her.
“This is a private matter between my wife and me.””
“Your wife is asking about a missing woman. That makes it a matter of concern.””
“You're a retired colonel, not a detective.””
“Correct. Which means I have no obligation to pretend your evasions are answers.””
Ethan looked at Victoria’s handbag.
For an instant, his eyes settled on its clasp.
Then he stepped back.
“I need to make a call.””
He walked toward the hotel’s covered driveway, already taking out his phone.
Emily watched him disappear behind a row of parked cars.
“He's never looked at me like that,” she murmured.
Victoria placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Like what?””
“Like he was deciding whether I was a problem he could solve.””
Victoria said nothing.
She had seen that look before. It belonged to people who believed consequences were negotiable, provided they acted quickly enough.
“Come with me,” she said.
“We're not discussing this in a hotel lobby.””
They took a cab to Victoria's apartment on the Upper West Side, a modest two-bedroom place with bookshelves along every wall and a view of the dark Hudson River.
Emily sat at the kitchen table while Victoria made tea neither of them touched.
The folded email lay between them.
“Start at the beginning,” Victoria said.
Emily rubbed her palms against her jeans.
“I met Ethan at a fundraiser. He was charming, funny, and nothing like Margaret. He said he hated the way his family treated people. He said he wanted a quieter life.””
“And Claire?””
“He told me they had divorced.””
“But you discovered she disappeared.””
“Six months into our marriage, I found an old newspaper clipping in his study. Claire had been missing for three months when he filed for divorce.””
Victoria leaned forward.
“He filed for divorce while she was missing?””
“He told me she had signed the papers before she disappeared. He said she was unstable and wanted to start over somewhere else.””
“Did you see the signed papers?””
Emily shook her head.
“No. I asked him about them once. He became furious. Then he apologized, bought me a bracelet, and told me his family had been through enough.””
Victoria looked at the email.
“Why did you start investigating now?””
“Because last month, Margaret asked me to organize some old documents for the foundation. I found a box of photographs in a locked cabinet.””
“What was in it?””
“Pictures of Claire. Pictures of Ethan. Pictures of a house near a lake.””
Emily swallowed.
“And one photograph of Margaret standing beside a man whose face had been scratched out.””
Victoria felt a chill.
“Did you keep the photograph?””
“No. Ethan found me looking at it. He took the entire box and said it belonged to his father.””
“Was his father alive at the time?””
Emily looked up.
“His father died four years ago.””
Victoria rose and walked to a cabinet beside her desk. She removed a thin folder containing the photographs sent by the retired intelligence officer.
She placed them on the table.
Emily stared.
“That’s the house.””
The first photograph showed a sprawling stone property beside a wooded lake. The second showed a black SUV parked near a boathouse. In the third, a woman with shoulder-length brown hair stood beside the vehicle.
Claire Donovan.
Emily lifted the photograph with trembling fingers.
“Where did you get these?””
“An old colleague sent them to me. He was looking into Claire's disappearance before his investigation was shut down.””
“Why was it shut down?””
“He never explained. He only told me that the official account didn't fit the evidence.””
Victoria pointed to the photograph of the SUV.
“Look at the rear window.””
Emily leaned closer.
A small white sticker was visible beneath the glass.
A falcon with its wings spread.
“That’s the Prescott Foundation emblem,” Emily said.
“Exactly.””
Emily placed the photograph down.
“Then Margaret knew Claire.””
“Possibly more than knew her.””
Victoria retrieved a notebook from her desk.
“Tell me about the night Claire disappeared.””
Emily took a deep breath.
“According to Ethan, Claire went to the lake house after an argument. She was upset, so he stayed in the city. The next morning, his driver reported that her car was abandoned near the water.””
“Was her body found?””
“No.””
“Her car?””
“Recovered. The police said she might have drowned, but there was no body. No definitive evidence.””
“And Ethan?””
“He told everyone she had been depressed. Margaret hired lawyers and handled the press. A few weeks later, the story disappeared.””
Victoria tapped her pen against the notebook.
“Did anyone interview Ethan extensively?””
“Not publicly. His family said he cooperated fully.””
“Did Claire have relatives?””
“A sister in Pennsylvania. I tried contacting her, but the letters came back unopened.””
Victoria looked up sharply.
“Returned by whom?””
“I'm not sure. The envelopes had forwarding labels. I assumed she had moved.””
“Do you still have them?””
Emily nodded.
“I kept everything.””
She opened her phone and showed Victoria a folder of photographs: newspaper articles, screenshots, old messages, and pictures of documents.
Victoria scrolled slowly.
Then she stopped.
One photograph showed a handwritten note tucked inside a book.
*If anything happens to me, ask about the second key.*
“What is this?”” Victoria asked.
“I found it inside Claire's old copy of Rebecca. It was in the box from Margaret's cabinet.””
“Did you ask Ethan about it?””
“Yes.””
“What did he say?””
Emily looked away.
“He took the book and burned it in the fireplace.””
Victoria's expression hardened.
“He burned a book because of a handwritten note?””
“He said Claire had left disturbing messages everywhere. He said I was becoming obsessed.””
“Emily, listen to me. If this family is connected to a missing person, we do not confront them without evidence. We do not threaten them. And we do not let them know everything we have.””
Emily gave a bitter laugh.
“You make it sound easy.””
“It isn't.””
“My husband shares my bed. His mother invites me to family dinners. They smile at me while hiding whatever happened to that woman.””
Victoria softened her voice.
“I know.””
Emily stared into her untouched tea.
“Sometimes I wonder whether he ever loved me. Or whether he married me because he thought I would never ask questions.””
Before Victoria could respond, a phone vibrated on the table.
It was Emily's.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
*Stop digging into Claire. You have no idea what she did to this family.*
A second message followed.
*Ask your aunt what happened to the Prescott officer at Fort Bragg in 2018.*
Victoria went completely still.
Emily looked up.
“Aunt Victoria?””
Victoria took the phone.
The reference to Fort Bragg was too specific to be a random threat. In 2018, an Army logistics officer named Daniel Prescott had been investigated for falsifying transport records involving military equipment.
Daniel was Ethan's cousin.
The inquiry had been closed after a witness withdrew her statement.
Victoria remembered the witness's name.
Claire Donovan.
She had not known that Claire had been connected to the investigation before her disappearance.
“Why would someone send this to you?”” Emily asked.
Victoria returned the phone.
“Because someone knows we're looking.””
“Who?””
“I don't know yet.””
A knock sounded at the apartment door.
Three slow taps.
Victoria moved Emily away from the table and approached the entrance without turning on the hall light.
“Who is it?”” she called.
A woman's voice answered.
“My name is Rachel Donovan. Claire was my sister.””
Victoria opened the door only after checking the security chain.
A woman in her late thirties stood outside, soaked by the rain. She carried a canvas bag and looked over her shoulder before stepping inside.
When Rachel saw Emily, she stopped.
“Are you Ethan Prescott's wife?””
Emily stood.
“Yes.””
Rachel closed her eyes briefly.
“Then I need to tell you something before he finds out I'm here.””
She reached into her bag and removed a small plastic evidence sleeve.
Inside lay a memory card.
“I found this in Claire's apartment three days after she disappeared,” Rachel said.
“I've kept it hidden ever since.””
Victoria stared at the tiny black card.
“What's on it?””
Rachel looked directly at Emily.
“A recording Claire made the night she vanished.””
“Of whom?”” Emily asked.
May you like
Rachel's answer came in a whisper.
“Ethan. And his mother.””
