Chapter 17 - The Car She Meant to Drive
Claire screamed.
Not a dramatic scream.
A raw, animal sound.
“You?”
Patricia collapsed into the desk chair.
“I didn’t know he would take my car.”
Emily stared.
The room felt unreal.
“Why were your brakes damaged?”
Patricia shook violently.
“I planned to leave.”
Claire looked sick.
“What does that mean?”
Patricia pressed her palms to her face.
“Thomas was going to expose everything. Victor. The money. Harbor House. I knew the police would start asking questions.”
“So you cut your own brakes?” Emily demanded.
“No.”
Patricia looked at her.
“I asked someone to.”
Silence.
Marcus.
Emily thought it before anyone said his name.
But Patricia shook her head.
“Not Marcus.”
“Then who?”
“Victor.”
Emily felt a chill.
Patricia said, “He called that week. I told him Thomas had found the old payment records. Victor said we had to make it look like I had an accident before I could be questioned.”
Claire stared at her mother.
“You were going to fake your death?”
Patricia nodded, crying.
“The car was supposed to be put on a transport truck after I left. Victor said he would damage the line and stage a crash later.”
Emily’s mind raced.
“But Dad took your car before the staged crash.”
“Yes.”
“And the brakes were already cut.”
Patricia nodded.
“I tried to call him.”
“Did you tell police any of this?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Claire admitted she had damaged his car. I thought if investigators found the wrong car—”
“You let them blame impact damage.”
“I was terrified.”
Emily felt nauseated.
“So Claire thought she killed him.”
“Yes.”
Claire turned away and vomited into a wastebasket.
Emily wanted to hate her mother cleanly.
It would have been easier.
But Patricia looked destroyed, and part of Emily still remembered her packing school lunches, singing badly in the kitchen, holding ice to Emily’s forehead when she had the flu.
People could love you and still ruin your life.
That was the hardest truth of all.
Detective Grant arrived twenty minutes later.
Patricia gave a full statement.
So did Claire.
Victor Sloane was arrested in Florida two days afterward on charges tied to fraud, obstruction, and conspiracy. Prosecutors would argue over the old crash for months.
But one fact became clear.
Claire had tried to scare her father.
Patricia had tried to disappear.
Victor had tried to stage a lie.
And Thomas had climbed into the wrong car.
A chain of selfish decisions had killed him.
As Detective Grant escorted Patricia outside, Patricia stopped beside Emily.
“I know you may never forgive me.”
Emily looked at her mother.
“I don’t know either.”
Patricia nodded.
Then she glanced toward Claire.
“Take care of each other.”
Emily’s face hardened.
“No.”
Patricia flinched.
Emily continued.
“We’re done taking care of each other by hiding consequences.”
The detective led Patricia away.
Claire stood on the porch in the rain.
After the car disappeared, she turned to Emily.
“I’m going to plead guilty.”
Emily said nothing.
May you like
Claire swallowed.
“And there’s one more thing you deserve to know about your wedding seat.”
