Chapter 4 - Stephanie’s Car
Claire was alive.
Barely.
Police found Stephanie’s car in the underground garage of an abandoned office building.
Claire had been locked inside the trunk.
Dehydrated.
Bruised.
Terrified.
She was taken to St. Joseph’s Hospital under federal protection.
Stephanie was nowhere nearby.
Peter was still missing.
And Calvin still owed me an explanation for a photograph showing him entering a hotel room with my best friend.
I demanded that explanation in the parking lot outside the storage facility.
“Now.”
Calvin stood beside our car.
Agents moved around us.
“This is not the time.”
“This is exactly the time.”
He glanced toward Reed.
Reed wisely walked away.
Calvin sighed.
“Stephanie asked me to meet her.”
“You already told me that.”
“This was earlier.”
“Six months earlier.”
“Yes.”
“In a hotel room.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She said Peter was watching her apartment and office.”
“So naturally she chose a hotel.”
“She had documents.”
“Did she have clothes on?”
His expression hardened.
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither is finding photographs of my husband sneaking into hotel rooms with my best friend.”
“We didn’t sleep together.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
Calvin leaned against the car.
“She gave me the first proof that Peter was moving money through Westlake.”
I stared.
“So Stephanie was helping you investigate Peter?”
“Eventually.”
“Eventually?”
“At first she was helping him.”
That made sense with Claire’s statement.
“She moved the money.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She says she didn’t know where it came from.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I didn’t.”
“Do you now?”
He hesitated.
“Maybe.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That’s comforting.”
“Emily, she discovered Peter was using her company’s vendor network. Once she understood the scale, she panicked.”
“Why not go to police?”
“Because Peter had documents making it look like she created the whole scheme.”
“So he could blame her.”
“Yes.”
“And the message last night?”
Calvin looked ashamed.
“She wanted to meet because she said she finally had the original records.”
“Why write, ‘I miss you’?”
He looked at me.
“That part I don’t understand.”
Neither did I.
Unless Stephanie had wanted me to see it.
Which meant the message might have been bait.
The question was why.
At the hospital, Claire refused to speak until she saw me.
Not Calvin.
Not Reed.
Me.
She looked smaller than in the photograph.
Early thirties.
Pale blond hair.
Bruises around one wrist.
A cut near her temple.
But her eyes were alert.
When I entered, she whispered:
“You got the ledger?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Where is Stephanie?”
Claire’s eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t know.”
“Did she lock you in the trunk?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
“Who did?”
“A man who works for Peter.”
“Name?”
“Darren Cole.”
Reed, listening nearby, wrote it down.
“Why were you in Stephanie’s car?”
Claire swallowed.
“She was helping me leave.”
I sat.
“Start at the beginning.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“A year ago, I noticed payments being approved for vendors that didn’t exist. When I asked Stephanie, she told me not to worry about it.”
“Did she know?”
“Some of it.”
“How much?”
“Enough to be scared.”
Claire explained that Peter had approached Stephanie years earlier.
He promised her access to luxury property clients.
Huge contracts.
Career-changing money.
In return, he occasionally asked her company to route “consulting payments” through subcontractors.
Stephanie believed he was minimizing taxes.
Illegal, but not what it became.
Over time, amounts increased.
Fake companies appeared.
Millions moved.
By the time Stephanie understood, Peter had documents carrying her electronic signature.
“She tried to stop,” Claire said.
“What did Peter do?”
“He threatened to destroy her.”
“Financially?”
Claire looked at me.
“Not just financially.”
My chest tightened.
“With what?”
“He knew things.”
“What things?”
Claire hesitated.
Then looked toward Calvin.
“Personal things.”
Calvin stepped closer.
“What?”
Claire stared at him.
“You really don’t know?”
His face tightened.
“No.”
Claire looked at me.
“Stephanie was terrified you would learn.”
“Learn what?”
Before she answered, Reed’s phone buzzed.
He stepped away.
Claire lowered her voice.
“Peter told Stephanie that if she went to authorities, he would send you proof she had betrayed you.”
There it was again.
Betrayal.
My stomach turned.
“With Calvin?”
Claire shook her head.
“Not the way you think.”
That phrase was becoming unbearable.
“Then what way?”
Claire glanced at the door.
“Peter had photographs.”
“Of what?”
“Stephanie meeting someone.”
“Who?”
“I never saw the person clearly.”
I remembered the first photograph.
The blonde woman.
About my height.
“Was it you?”
“No.”
“Who was she?”
Claire started to answer.
Then alarms erupted in the hall.
Not medical alarms.
Security.
Agent Reed rushed back in.
“We need to move Claire.”
“What happened?”
“Unauthorized access on this floor.”
Two agents entered.
Claire panicked.
“No. No, he found me.”
“Who?”
“Darren.”
Reed ordered us into the corridor.
Nurses moved quickly.
Security officers blocked elevators.
Calvin grabbed my hand.
For once, I did not pull away.
We were escorted toward a secure stairwell.
Then a man in hospital scrubs rounded the corner.
Claire screamed.
“That’s him!”
Everything happened instantly.
Agents moved.
The man turned and ran.
Reed chased him.
A second agent followed.
We were pushed into the stairwell.
Calvin slammed the door.
Claire shook violently.
I held her shoulders.
“You’re safe.”
She looked directly at me.
“No, I’m not.”
Footsteps thundered above us.
Then below.
An agent shouted.
Another door slammed.
Claire grabbed my wrist.
Her grip hurt.
“Emily.”
“What?”
“If Peter gets Stephanie first, she’ll tell him where the original file is.”
“What original file?”
“The one that proves who C.H. really is.”
I stared at Calvin.
He stared back.
Claire shook her head desperately.
“It isn’t Calvin.”
“Then who?”
The stairwell door above us crashed open.
Claire whispered the name.
“Charles Holloway.”
Calvin went completely still.
May you like
I knew that name.
Charles Holloway was my father.
