Chapter 6 - Forty-Two Thousand Dollars
Mara looked like she might collapse.
Ethan’s voice softened, but only slightly. “Is there an account?”
“Yes.”
Claire smiled without warmth.
“Where did the money come from?”
Mara stared at Sophie on the blanket. “Rachel.”
The name seemed to move through the room.
Ethan’s chest tightened. “Rachel gave you forty-two thousand dollars?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
Mara reached into the pocket of her uniform and pulled out a small brass key.
“Three days before Mrs. Cole died, she gave me this.”
Ethan recognized it.
Safe-deposit key.
“She told me that if anything happened to her, I was supposed to wait thirty days,” Mara continued. “Then open a box at First Atlantic Bank. Inside was cash, documents, and a letter.”
Claire’s expression went still.
Ethan stepped closer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because the letter told me not to.”
Anger flashed through him. “You let me grieve for eleven months while holding something from my wife?”
Mara’s eyes filled. “She said Sophie would be in danger if I told you too soon.”
Claire laughed. “Convenient.”
Mara ignored her. “The money was for Sophie. Emergency money. She told me to put it in an account no one in the household knew about.”
Ethan looked at Leonard. “Did you know?”
“No.”
“Daniel?”
“No.”
Ethan turned back to Mara. “Where is the letter?”
Her face tightened.
“Gone.”
Claire’s faint smile returned.
Ethan saw it.
“How?”
“Someone broke into my apartment last week. Nothing expensive was taken. Just the letter, copies of the trust papers, and an old phone Rachel gave me.”
Daniel frowned. “Why didn’t you report it?”
“I did. Police said there was no forced entry.”
Ethan stared at Claire.
She shook her head. “Don’t even think it.”
His phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
YOU’RE ASKING THE WRONG QUESTION.
A second message appeared before he could respond.
ASK WHY RACHEL LEFT THE GALA EARLY THE NIGHT SHE DIED.
Ethan’s mouth went dry.
Rachel had told him she stayed until the event ended.
He looked across the room at Harold Price, the chairman of his company.
May you like
Harold was staring at the same anonymous message on his own phone.
And his hands were shaking.
