Chapter 4 - The Woman in the Photograph
Graham forgot how to breathe.
His wife, Elise, had been dead for eleven years. A winter road. A bridge outside Albany. A call from a state trooper at 2:14 in the morning. He had identified her wedding ring and the remains of the car.
“What did you say?”
Owen’s hands shook. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Graham stepped closer. “You will tell me.”
Owen pulled a photograph from a drawer. It showed a woman standing outside a small clinic, wearing a gray coat and holding a paper cup. Her hair was shorter, her face thinner, but Graham knew the shape of her smile.
Elise.
The photograph was dated three years earlier.
“Where did you get this?”
“Your wife’s foundation account. It was attached to a transfer request.”
“What foundation account?”
“The Elise Whitmore Foundation. It’s been active every year since the accident.”
Graham stared at the image. The foundation had supposedly been wound down after her death. He had signed the final paperwork himself, or thought he had.
“Who runs it?”
“Victor Hale.”
A door clicked behind them.
Victor stood in the hallway, immaculate in a charcoal suit. He looked at Owen, then at Graham’s hand.
“What’s going on?”
Graham folded the photograph. “I’m asking questions.”
“At midnight?”
“Apparently that’s when people tell the truth.”
Victor smiled without warmth. “You’re tired. Go home.”
“I want the foundation records.”
“They’re confidential.”
“I’m the founder.”
“And I’m the officer responsible for protecting the company from your personal distractions.”
Graham stepped toward him. “You changed my office. You locked the archive. You knew Lucy was at the shop.”
Victor’s expression barely shifted.
“Careful,” he said. “You’re making accusations you can’t support.”
May you like
Then he leaned closer.
“And if you keep digging, you’ll find out why Elise had to disappear.”
