Chapter 2 - The Second Woman
I didn’t open the door.
“Who is it?”
Silence.
Then footsteps moved away.
I opened the door seconds later.
The hallway was empty.
I ran downstairs.
Margaret stood in the kitchen.
“Did someone just come in?”
“No.”
“Someone was upstairs.”
Robert looked up from his coffee.
Daniel was gone.
Margaret immediately checked the security system.
The front door had opened at 5:11 a.m.
Then closed again at 5:14.
Someone had entered with a valid access code.
“Who has codes?” I asked.
Margaret’s face tightened.
“Family.”
“And?”
“Daniel.”
I showed her the hotel receipt.
The second guest was listed as Claire Holloway.
Margaret went pale.
“You know her.”
“Yes.”
“Who is she?”
Margaret looked toward Robert.
He had gone completely still.
“Robert?”
He stood.
“Claire worked for Daniel’s company.”
“Worked?”
“She disappeared eighteen months ago.”
“Disappeared?”
Daniel had told me an employee named Claire left suddenly after stealing confidential client information.
Margaret shook her head.
“That was Daniel’s version.”
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
“Driving.”
“Who is Claire Holloway?”
Silence.
Then Daniel said, “Where did you hear that name?”
Not Who?
Not I don’t know her.
Where did you hear that name?
“I found the hotel receipt.”
“Emily, listen carefully. Claire has nothing to do with Vanessa.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I’ll explain tonight.”
“No.”
“Emily—”
“No more tonight. No more tomorrow. Explain now.”
Daniel exhaled.
“Claire was unstable.”
Robert suddenly reached for my phone.
“Put it on speaker.”
I did.
Daniel heard his father.
“Dad?”
Robert spoke slowly.
“What happened to Claire?”
Another silence.
Then Daniel disconnected.
Margaret sat down.
“What aren’t you telling us?” I asked Robert.
Robert rubbed both hands over his face.
“Six months before Claire disappeared, she came to me.”
“Why?”
“She said Daniel was moving company money.”
Margaret stared at him.
“You never told me?”
“I confronted him. He showed me records proving she was wrong.”
“Were they real?” I asked.
Robert didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
For the next two hours, Margaret and I went through everything.
The hotel.
The jewelry.
Daniel’s business accounts that overlapped with our personal finances.
Then we found repeated payments to an LLC called North Lake Consulting.
Almost $92,000 over eighteen months.
Robert recognized the address.
It belonged to a property management company.
We searched county records.
North Lake Consulting rented a condo in Lincoln Park.
The leaseholder was Vanessa Reed.
My throat tightened.
Margaret remained calm.
“Print everything.”
By noon, Daniel returned.
He walked into his parents’ living room like a man entering a negotiation.
“Can we please behave like adults?”
Margaret almost smiled.
“Sit down.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Emily, Vanessa and I are friends.”
“Do friends receive ninety-two thousand dollars?”
His expression changed.
I watched him realize how much I knew.
“That money wasn’t for Vanessa.”
“Then who?”
“I can’t tell you.”
I laughed once.
“Wonderful.”
“Emily, there are things happening with the company you don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
He looked at his father.
Robert said nothing.
Daniel stood.
“I’m not discussing confidential business matters.”
Margaret stepped between him and the door.
“You were perfectly comfortable discussing your wife with Vanessa.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you embarrassed Emily in public.”
“It wasn’t what it looked like.”
“Then what did it look like?”
Daniel couldn’t answer.
That afternoon, I went home.
Not because I trusted Daniel.
Because I wanted access to our house.
I photographed documents.
Copied hard drives.
Changed passwords on accounts belonging solely to me.
I called an attorney.
Her name was Rachel Moreno.
She listened without interrupting.
“Do not drain joint accounts,” she advised. “Do not destroy anything. Preserve records. Document everything.”
That was exactly what I did.
At six, Daniel arrived.
He found me at the dining table.
“You called a lawyer.”
It wasn’t a question.
“How do you know?”
He hesitated.
That frightened me more than anything.
“Daniel.”
“I saw the number on the phone bill.”
The explanation was plausible.
Almost.
He sat opposite me.
“I love you.”
“Were you sleeping with Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Claire?”
“No.”
“Then why the hotel?”
His eyes shifted.
There.
Tiny.
But unmistakable.
“The company booked rooms there.”
“In your personal name?”
“Sometimes.”
“With Claire listed as the second guest?”
Daniel stood.
“This interrogation is ridiculous.”
“No. What’s ridiculous is that every answer creates another question.”
He walked toward the window.
Then his phone buzzed.
He glanced down.
For the first time all evening, genuine fear crossed his face.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
He shoved the phone into his pocket.
“Who texted you?”
“No one.”
“Daniel.”
He grabbed his coat.
“I need to go.”
I followed him into the hallway.
“Is it Vanessa?”
He opened the door.
“No.”
“Claire?”
He stopped.
Just for half a second.
Then he left.
I waited until his car disappeared.
My own phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Daniel stood outside the Lincoln Park condo.
The timestamp was from ten minutes earlier.
Another message arrived.
He’s lying to both of you.
I typed:
Who are you?
Three dots appeared.
Then vanished.
Then appeared again.
Finally:
You already found my name on the hotel receipt.
My hand went cold.
Another message arrived.
If you want to know why Daniel paid for Vanessa’s apartment, come alone.
An address followed.
May you like
Then one final message:
My name is Claire Holloway. And your husband thinks I’m dead.
