Chapter 6 - The Detectives
Claire stopped crying.
That frightened Emily more than the tears had.
Her face went blank.
“Why are police here?”
Jonathan answered. “Because I filed a report when I received a forged contract involving an eight-figure asset.”
“You called the police on my wedding day?”
“I called them three days ago.”
Claire turned to Patricia. “You said he wouldn’t.”
Patricia whispered, “I didn’t know.”
Daniel looked at both women. “How long have you two been talking about this?”
Neither answered.
Daniel’s father, Robert Whitmore, stepped inside and shut the door.
Robert was a corporate attorney who rarely showed emotion. Now he looked furious.
“I spoke with one detective. They are not here to drag anyone out during dinner. They want statements.”
Claire exhaled.
Robert continued.
“But they also have questions about a bank transfer made yesterday from the Harbor Trust escrow account.”
Jonathan’s head snapped up. “What transfer?”
Claire’s face betrayed her.
Emily saw it.
“So there’s more.”
Claire shook her head. “No.”
“How much?”
No answer.
Jonathan was already dialing his office.
“Claire,” Daniel said, “how much?”
She whispered, “Three hundred thousand.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Emily felt numb.
“To where?”
Claire rubbed her arms. “A private account.”
“Whose?”
Patricia looked toward the door.
Emily followed her gaze.
That tiny movement told her everything and nothing.
“Mom?”
Patricia’s voice cracked. “Mine.”
Grandma Evelyn sat down slowly.
For the first time that night, she looked old.
Emily stared at her mother.
“You let Claire steal three hundred thousand dollars and move it into your account?”
Patricia shook her head violently. “I thought it was temporary.”
“Money doesn’t accidentally become temporary.”
“I was going to put it back.”
“With what?”
Patricia’s eyes filled. “After the sale.”
Emily turned away.
Her chest hurt.
The room was too warm. Too small.
She needed air.
She pushed through the door.
The ballroom beyond was still glittering like nothing had happened.
A waiter carried soup.
Someone laughed too loudly.
The band had switched songs.
Then Emily saw a man near the lobby doors.
Tall. Gray coat. Early forties.
She recognized him instantly.
Marcus Hale.
Her father’s former business partner.
The man Patricia had blamed for nearly every bad decision Thomas made in the last five years of his life.
He was speaking to one of the detectives.
When Marcus saw Emily, he stopped.
His expression changed.
Not surprise.
Relief.
He crossed the lobby toward her.
“Emily.”
She backed away slightly. “Why are you here?”
He looked over her shoulder at Patricia.
Then back at Emily.
“Because your father’s crash wasn’t an accident.”
The music from the ballroom kept playing.
Emily heard none of it.
May you like
Marcus lowered his voice.
“And your mother knows why.”
