Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH ON HIS PHONE
Claire did not sleep that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Richard standing over her suitcase.
Then she saw the bracelet.
Then she saw the photograph Eleanor had shown her.
At six in the morning, Eleanor’s attorney arrived.
Her name was Naomi Pierce.
She was fifty-two, calm, and carried herself like a woman who had never wasted a sentence.
“I understand you want the DNA test handled independently.”
Claire nodded.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Naomi placed two sealed testing kits on the table.
“One sample will go to Northwestern’s laboratory.”
“The second will go to an independent genetics facility.”
“Neither laboratory will know the other result.”
Eleanor gave her sample first.
Claire gave hers second.
Then Naomi sealed both packages in front of them.
“No one touches these without documentation.”
Claire appreciated that.
She had spent too much of her life accepting other people’s explanations.
She was finished doing that.
At nine, Richard called again.
This time Claire answered.
“What?”
His voice softened instantly.
“Thank God.”
Claire almost laughed.
“You threw my suitcase across a hotel lobby yesterday.”
“I was angry.”
“You canceled my cards.”
“That was temporary.”
“You had security called.”
“Conrad misunderstood me.”
Claire looked at Eleanor.
The billionaire’s expression did not change.
Richard continued.
“Listen to me.”
“The Crawfords are dangerous.”
“How do you know?”
Silence.
Claire sat straighter.
“Richard.”
“I’m a businessman.”
“Everyone knows the Crawfords.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“From the woman who paid for the hospital room you’re trying to enter?”
Richard inhaled sharply.
“You’re my wife.”
“Not for much longer.”
The silence that followed was different.
Colder.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“Claire.”
“Why did you photograph my bracelet three weeks ago?”
Richard said nothing.
Claire felt Eleanor’s eyes on her.
“Answer me.”
“I told you.”
“I wanted to repair it.”
“Which jeweler?”
“What?”
“Give me the name.”
Richard hung up.
Claire stared at the phone.
Eleanor stood.
“Naomi.”
The attorney was already typing.
“I’m on it.”
By noon, the Grand Belmont’s internal security department had retrieved lobby footage.
Richard’s humiliation of Claire had been captured from six different angles.
So had his conversation with Manager Conrad Pike twenty minutes earlier.
There was no audio.
But there did not need to be.
Richard handed Conrad an envelope.
Conrad looked inside.
Then he slipped it into his jacket.
Claire watched the footage twice.
“What was in the envelope?”
Eleanor’s jaw tightened.
“We’ll find out.”
Conrad Pike was suspended before lunch.
At one thirty, Naomi received another piece of information.
Richard Sterling had visited a private antiquities appraiser three weeks earlier.
He had shown the appraiser a photograph of a silver child’s bracelet.
The appraiser remembered it because Richard had offered five thousand dollars for information about the engraving style.
Claire felt sick.
“He knew.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“He knew something.”
“But perhaps not everything.”
Naomi placed a printed email on the table.
“The appraiser told Richard the bracelet appeared to have been commissioned by Wexler & Sons.”
Claire looked confused.
Eleanor was not.
“Wexler made jewelry for my family.”
“For nearly seventy years.”
Naomi continued.
“Richard then searched corporate records relating to the Crawford family trusts.”
Claire looked toward the window.
Chicago stretched below them.
Thirty years of questions were sitting on one side of her.
Four years of marriage were collapsing on the other.
“Why would he throw me out if he thought I was connected to Eleanor?”
Naomi answered quietly.
“Maybe he didn’t know how closely you were connected.”
“Or maybe he was afraid you were about to find out.”
Claire turned.
“What do you mean?”
Naomi removed another document.
Two days before the hotel incident, Richard had opened a new corporate entity in Delaware.
Its name was Sterling Heritage Management.
Its listed purpose was family asset administration.
Claire stared at the registration.
“I’ve never heard of this.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
Naomi slid a second page forward.
Richard had also attempted to transfer ownership of the condominium he shared with Claire into that company.
The transfer had failed.
Claire’s signature was required.
Her face went pale.
“I signed real estate documents last week.”
Naomi looked at her sharply.
“What documents?”
“Richard said we were refinancing.”
Eleanor’s expression hardened.
Naomi asked one final question.
“Did you read every page?”
Claire closed her eyes.
“No.”
Naomi stood.
“Then we need copies immediately.”
That afternoon, Claire’s marriage stopped looking like a relationship that had suddenly fallen apart.
May you like
It began looking like a plan.
And somewhere inside that plan was an old silver bracelet Richard Sterling had been investigating before Claire ever entered the Grand Belmont.
