Chapter 7 - THE OLD VOICEMAIL
Sophie returned to school on Wednesday.
I walked her inside.
She wore a small bandage near her temple.
For the first time since the wedding, she smiled at one of her friends.
That mattered more to me than every boardroom battle happening at Vale Hospitality.
Then her teacher handed me Sophie’s flower-girl pouch.
“This was left with her things at the hotel.”
I almost refused it.
Then I felt something hard inside the lining.
A memory card.
Tiny.
Black.
Hidden beneath a loose seam.
I called Cole.
The card contained a single audio file.
Michael’s voice.
My husband.
Eight years after his death, I heard him breathe.
“Claire, if you’re listening to this, I didn’t get the chance to explain.”
My knees nearly gave out.
Cole moved a chair toward me.
Michael continued.
“Richard knows Preston is stealing through construction vendors.”
A pause.
“Margaret knows more than Richard realizes.”
Another pause.
“I copied everything.”
Then his voice lowered.
“Someone followed me home tonight.”
I covered my mouth.
“I don’t know if this is paranoia anymore.”
The recording clicked.
Then another voice entered.
Male.
Close.
“Michael?”
Michael stopped talking.
The unknown man said, “We need to discuss what you found.”
The file ended.
Cole replayed the final seconds.
I recognized the voice.
Not Preston.
Not Richard.
Howard Pike.
The former company attorney.
Cole brought Howard in for questioning.
Howard admitted meeting Michael.
But he denied threatening him.
“I warned him.”
“About what?” Cole asked.
“Preston.”
“Why?”
“Because Preston had begun using private investigators.”
“For what?”
“Anyone who could hurt him.”
Howard then said something that made my skin turn cold.
“He had a file on Claire too.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of file?”
“Routine.”
“There is nothing routine about investigating an auditor’s wife.”
Howard looked ashamed.
“Preston believed spouses were pressure points.”
I thought of Sophie lying beside the wedding aisle.
Pressure points.
Eight years later, Preston had used the same method.
When he could not control an adult directly, he targeted someone they loved.
Cole asked Howard if Michael’s death was connected.
Howard closed his eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It is the truth.”
Then Howard whispered.
“But Michael was scared enough to give me something before he died.”
“What?”
“A key.”
My heartbeat increased.
“To what?”
May you like
Howard looked directly at me.
“A storage unit registered in your name.”
