Chapter 4 - The Women Before Me
Detective Blake opened the door before Melissa could use the key.
She screamed.
Then she saw his badge.
Her entire body sagged.
"Thank God."
Those were the first words she said.
Not hello.
Not explanation.
Thank God.
Melissa hadn't come to threaten me.
She had come because someone had threatened her.
A text had arrived that afternoon.
GO TO CLAIRE'S CONDO OR SARAH GETS EXPOSED.
Attached was my address.
"And the key?" Blake asked.
Melissa placed it on the counter.
"Lorraine gave it to me years ago."
It was an old emergency key.
The building had changed locks since then.
It wouldn't have worked.
Melissa looked at me.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For not stopping this."
She had dated Brandon three years before I met him.
She owned a duplex in Evanston.
The pattern was nearly identical.
Brandon became serious quickly.
Lorraine inserted herself.
Financial documents appeared.
Arguments began.
Then Brandon hit her.
Once.
Only once.
Melissa left the next morning.
Unlike Sarah, she kept her property.
"I had a lawyer," she said. "He caught the deed transfer."
"So Lorraine failed."
Melissa shook her head.
"She never fails completely."
"What does that mean?"
"My business account was emptied."
Thirty-two thousand dollars disappeared.
Melissa never recovered it.
She hadn't connected Sarah to Brandon until Detective Blake showed her photographs.
Now three women sat in my condo.
Me.
Melissa.
And Sarah, who joined by video call.
Different years.
Same family.
Same script.
Blake wrote everything down.
The criminal investigation expanded overnight.
Fraud.
Forgery.
Attempted property theft.
Domestic battery.
Possible conspiracy.
The following morning, Brandon was released pending trial under strict conditions.
No contact with me.
No entry into my condo.
No communication through third parties.
Lorraine received the same warning after prosecutors began reviewing the stew footage.
I filed for divorce.
Not separation.
Divorce.
Evelyn delivered the petition before noon.
Brandon responded through his attorney.
He wanted reconciliation.
I laughed when Evelyn told me.
"He slapped me three days after the wedding."
"I know."
"His family tried to steal my home."
"I know."
"What exactly does he think we're reconciling?"
"Control."
That answer stayed with me.
Control.
Maybe that was the thing I'd mistaken for love.
Brandon always wanted to know where I was.
I had called it concern.
He disliked Naomi.
I had called it jealousy.
He wanted access to my accounts.
I had called it marriage planning.
Lorraine criticized my clothes, cooking, work schedule, furniture, and friendships.
I had called it a difficult mother-in-law.
Abuse rarely announces itself with a sign.
Sometimes it arrives carrying flowers.
Sometimes it asks for your password.
Sometimes it tells you marriage means there shouldn't be secrets.
The next week changed everything.
Police executed a warrant at Lorraine's home.
They found files.
Lots of files.
Photographs.
Property records.
Bank statements.
Background checks.
Not only mine.
Sarah's.
Melissa's.
And six other women.
Six.
Detective Blake called me into the station.
"Some relationships never progressed far enough," he explained. "Others did."
"How many lost money?"
"We're still determining that."
"How many were hurt?"
He didn't answer.
That was worse.
Then he showed me a folder with my name.
CLAIRE BENNETT.
Inside were records dating back eighteen months.
My salary.
My condo valuation.
Mortgage history.
Credit score.
Employer.
Parents' names.
Even Naomi's address.
My relationship with Brandon had begun fourteen months earlier.
They had researched me four months before he supposedly met me accidentally at a fundraising dinner.
I stared at Blake.
"Our meeting wasn't accidental."
"We don't believe it was."
The room became very quiet.
"Then why me?"
He pointed toward the property valuation.
My condo was worth $1.8 million.
Paid off.
No liens.
No co-owner.
I had been selected.
Not loved.
Selected.
I cried that night.
Not because I wanted Brandon back.
Because I finally understood there had never been a Brandon to want back.
The man I'd loved was a performance.
Naomi stayed with me.
Sarah drove down from Wisconsin.
Melissa brought wine.
The three of us sat around the same table where Lorraine had burned me.
For the first time since the wedding, I laughed.
Not much.
But enough.
Sarah raised her glass.
"To keeping our houses."
Melissa smiled.
"And our sanity."
I raised mine carefully.
"And our names."
My phone rang.
Detective Blake.
His voice sounded different.
"Claire, where are you?"
"Home."
"Who is with you?"
I told him.
"Lock the door."
My smile disappeared.
"Why?"
"We found something in Lorraine's files."
"What?"
"A schedule."
I stood.
"What kind of schedule?"
"Dates. Targets. Payments."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Your name appears tomorrow."
My mouth went dry.
"What happens tomorrow?"
"We don't know."
Then every light in my condo went out.
Sarah screamed.
Melissa stood.
Naomi grabbed her phone.
The emergency lights flickered on.
My security system rebooted.
Then the front-door camera activated.
Someone was standing in the hallway.
A man.
Not Brandon.
Not anyone I'd seen before.
He placed something against my door.
An envelope.
Then he looked directly into the camera.
He said one sentence.
May you like
"Ask Lorraine who Brandon really is."
And walked away.
