Chapter 15 - The Blue Door
The shed should not have existed.
Claire remembered watching workers dismantle it after her mother died.
She remembered the blue boards stacked beside a truck.
She remembered crying because Evelyn had painted tiny white stars inside the door.
Nathan explained.
“Your father saved it.”
“What?”
“He had the shed moved to a storage property in Vermont.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because your mother told him never to destroy it.”
Claire pressed her fingers to her temple.
For twelve years, everyone had protected her by lying to her.
It felt a lot like betrayal.
The storage property sat two hours from Boston.
Rachel coordinated with federal agents.
Vanessa gave them Peter’s number, properties, bank accounts, and medical company records.
Claire still did not trust her.
But Vanessa’s fear had become useful.
They flew north that morning.
By afternoon, clouds hung low over the Vermont hills.
The property was an old farmhouse surrounded by bare trees.
Behind it stood the shed.
Blue door.
Faded paint.
White stars still visible inside.
Claire stopped several feet away.
Her mother’s voice lived in that color.
Do not leave the blue door unlocked.
Rachel’s team cleared the structure.
No one inside.
Claire entered.
The shed smelled like old wood and cold dust.
There was a workbench.
Rusty garden tools.
A child’s bicycle bell.
Claire touched it.
Her bicycle.
Her father had saved that too.
Nathan pointed at the door.
“There.”
A thin line ran along the inner frame.
Claire pried loose a narrow wooden strip.
Behind it was a waterproof metal tube.
Inside were microfilm cartridges and a handwritten index.
Peter Cross.
The next minutes moved fast, and every answer only exposed a deeper part of Daniel’s plan.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try.”
“Maybe a hundred million.”
Claire stared at her.
Nathan cursed under his breath.
Rachel asked, “Where?”
Vanessa said, “Switzerland.”
Claire almost laughed.
Of course.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
Peter Cross spoke.
His voice was calm.
“Claire, Daniel lied to you about one thing.”
She gripped the phone.
“What?”
“I’m not going to Boston.”
A floorboard creaked behind her.
May you like
Claire turned.
Peter Cross stood in the shed doorway.
