Chapter 3 - Forty-Eight Hours
Claire left the house with Lily twenty minutes later.
Ethan tried to stop her at the front door.
“Where are you going?”
“To a hotel.”
“With my daughter?”
“Our daughter.”
“You’re not taking her anywhere.”
Claire looked him directly in the eyes.
“Try stopping me.”
Something in her voice made him step aside.
Margaret watched from the dining room.
For the first time all evening, she looked nervous.
Claire buckled Lily into the car.
As she drove away, she saw Ethan standing beneath the porch light with his phone pressed to his ear.
Jonathan’s office was still open when Claire arrived.
His assistant brought Lily hot chocolate and coloring books.
Then Jonathan spread dozens of documents across the conference table.
Claire felt as if she were looking at the blueprint of a crime.
The house had originally belonged to Claire’s father.
He had placed it into a protective trust before his death.
Claire was the sole beneficiary.
Ethan had no ownership rights.
Yet according to documents filed three weeks earlier, Claire had supposedly authorized its transfer to Northstar Consulting.
The sale price was strangely low.
Two million dollars for a property worth nearly six.
“Why would Margaret buy my house through a shell company?”
Claire asked.
Jonathan pushed another document toward her.
“Because Northstar borrowed against the property before the sale even closed.”
Claire stared at the number.
Four million dollars.
“Where did the loan money go?”
“That is what we are tracing.”
Claire’s phone rang.
Ethan.
She rejected it.
He called again.
Then Margaret.
Then Ethan again.
Finally, a text appeared.
COME HOME BEFORE YOU MAKE THIS WORSE.
Claire showed Jonathan.
He photographed the message.
“Do not delete anything.”
A second message arrived.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE DESTROYING.
Claire almost laughed.
Then Jonathan placed one last document in front of her.
“Claire, I found the original application that created Northstar.”
She examined the signature page.
Margaret Whitmore.
But beside Margaret’s name was another manager.
Ethan Whitmore.
Claire leaned back.
Her husband and mother-in-law had created the company together eleven months earlier.
Almost exactly when Ethan had started telling Claire that his business was losing money.
“Why didn’t you detect this before?”
Claire asked.
“Because the trust statements were redirected.”
“To where?”
Jonathan turned his laptop toward her.
The mailing address belonged to a private mailbox.
The account had been opened using Claire’s identification.
Claire shook her head.
“I never opened that.”
Jonathan nodded.
“I know.”
Then he clicked another file.
A security image appeared.
A woman stood at the mailbox counter wearing sunglasses.
The photograph was grainy.
But Claire recognized the coat.
She had bought it for Margaret last Christmas.
Jonathan enlarged the image.
Claire stared at her mother-in-law.
Then another figure appeared behind her.
A man.
Ethan.
Claire whispered.
“They planned this together.”
Jonathan did not answer.
He did not need to.
Then his assistant knocked and entered.
“Mr. Pierce?”
“There are two men downstairs asking for Mrs. Whitmore.”
Claire’s heart accelerated.
“Who?”
May you like
The assistant looked uneasy.
“They say they represent Northstar Consulting.”
