Chapter 3 - The Woman at the Door
Clarissa watched Vanessa through the security screen for almost a minute before opening the door.
Vanessa looked different from the island photographs.
No red swimsuit.
No confident smile.
She wore a gray coat over travel clothes, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes.
“You have sixty seconds,” Clarissa said.
Vanessa looked past her.
“Is Adrian here?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Clarissa almost laughed.
“You’re worried my husband might catch you visiting his wife?”
Vanessa flinched.
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve considerably more.”
“I know what you think happened.”
Clarissa held her gaze.
“I have photographs.”
“Yes.”
“Hotel bills.”
Vanessa swallowed.
“Yes.”
“You slept with my husband.”
Vanessa looked down.
“Yes.”
The clean admission hurt more than excuses would have.
Clarissa stepped aside from the doorway.
“Fifty seconds.”
Vanessa looked at the key in her own hand.
“Evelyn gave this to me.”
Clarissa’s composure cracked.
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“Why?”
“She wanted me to make a choice.”
“What choice?”
“Whether I was going to keep helping Adrian destroy himself.”
Clarissa stared.
Vanessa continued quickly.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“You’re not getting forgiveness.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because Adrian thinks we were on Isla Verda for him.”
Clarissa frowned.
“We weren’t.”
“You expect me to believe this was some innocent corporate retreat?”
“No. The affair is real.”
Clarissa’s jaw tightened.
“But the island trip wasn’t Adrian’s idea,” Vanessa said. “It was Marcus’s.”
“Marcus Dane.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened.
“You know?”
“Enough.”
“Then Evelyn got the locker to you.”
Clarissa said nothing.
Vanessa exhaled.
“Thank God.”
Clarissa’s voice went cold.
“Do not use that phrase in this house tonight.”
Vanessa nodded.
“You’re right.”
“What does Marcus want?”
“Control.”
“Of Mercer Holdings?”
“Eventually.”
“How?”
“Adrian.”
Clarissa gave a humorless laugh.
“You’re telling me my husband is stupid.”
“I’m telling you he is vain.”
That landed because it was true.
Vanessa looked toward Evelyn’s portrait.
“Marcus discovered years ago that Adrian’s greatest weakness isn’t money.”
“What is it?”
“Being admired.”
Clarissa thought of every gala.
Every interview.
Every room Adrian entered expecting attention.
“Marcus fed him deals that made him look brilliant. Then riskier ones. He built a network of consultants around Adrian until Adrian stopped questioning anything as long as the numbers made him look successful.”
“And you?”
“I helped.”
“Why?”
Vanessa looked ashamed.
“At first, because Marcus paid me.”
Clarissa stared.
“Then because Adrian noticed me.”
There it was.
Ugly.
Simple.
Human.
Vanessa’s eyes filled.
“I wish I had a better answer.”
“You don’t.”
“No.”
“Did Evelyn know?”
“She found out.”
“How?”
“She followed Adrian to Isla Verda six weeks ago.”
Clarissa remembered Thomas telling her Evelyn had called from there.
“What did she see?”
“Enough.”
“Not an answer.”
Vanessa reached into her bag.
Clarissa stiffened.
“It’s just a phone.”
Vanessa opened a recording.
Marcus’s voice came through.
“Once Adrian signs the transfer authorization, Cross controls the debt. Six months later Mercer collapses, and we buy the remaining assets through receivership.”
Another voice.
Vanessa’s.
“And Adrian?”
Marcus laughed.
“Adrian takes the fraud charge.”
Clarissa felt cold.
Vanessa stopped the recording.
“I recorded that last week.”
“Why?”
“Because Evelyn made me understand what Marcus was actually planning.”
“You needed Evelyn to explain that framing someone for financial crimes was bad?”
Vanessa accepted the blow.
“No. I needed Evelyn to make me admit I had become the kind of person who could rationalize anything.”
Clarissa crossed her arms.
“And what does Adrian know?”
“That some funds moved.”
“Does he know they’re fraudulent?”
“He signed documents.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Vanessa hesitated.
“He knew some accounting was aggressive.”
“Meaning?”
“He knew they were hiding liabilities.”
Clarissa closed her eyes.
So Adrian was not innocent.
Maybe not the architect.
But not innocent.
“He kept saying everyone did it,” Vanessa continued. “That Mercer needed flexibility. That once the Cross deal closed, they’d fix the books.”
“And meanwhile he was sleeping with you.”
Vanessa looked down.
“Yes.”
Clarissa walked toward the fireplace.
Evelyn smiled from the photograph.
Calm.
Knowing.
“I buried his mother today,” Clarissa said.
Vanessa’s head snapped up.
“What?”
“She died last night.”
“No.”
“She called Adrian.”
Vanessa went pale.
“He didn’t tell me.”
“Because he didn’t answer.”
Vanessa stared.
“He said his phone kept ringing because you were upset about some family issue.”
Clarissa looked at her.
“He knew she was sick.”
Vanessa sat down slowly.
“Oh my God.”
For the first time, Clarissa saw something real in her expression.
Horror.
“He left anyway,” Clarissa said.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
“He told me she had food poisoning.”
Clarissa almost smiled at the absurdity.
“Of course he did.”
Vanessa stood again.
“Where is Adrian now?”
“You tell me.”
“He left Isla Verda this afternoon.”
“For here?”
“I thought so.”
Clarissa’s phone remained silent.
Vanessa looked at the divorce papers.
Then the ring.
“You’re leaving him.”
“I already left.”
“Does he know?”
“He’ll know when he walks in.”
Vanessa nodded.
“Then you need to leave this house.”
Clarissa looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because Marcus knows Evelyn collected evidence.”
“So?”
“He doesn’t know where it is.”
Clarissa’s eyes went to the brass key.
Vanessa noticed.
“Exactly.”
“You think he’ll come here.”
“I think he already sent someone.”
Clarissa stiffened.
“What?”
“Evelyn told me she had hidden copies. Yesterday Marcus asked whether she had ever mentioned a locker.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
“Why should I believe you?”
Vanessa held up her key.
“Because this doesn’t open C-17.”
“What does it open?”
“C-18.”
Clarissa stared.
“There’s another locker.”
“Yes.”
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then let’s find out.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because Marcus has people watching Union Station.”
Clarissa studied her.
“You could be setting me up.”
“I could.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“It should bother you.”
Clarissa almost admired the answer.
Almost.
A car passed outside.
Both women looked toward the windows.
Vanessa lowered her voice.
“Do you have the flash drive?”
Clarissa said nothing.
“Don’t keep it here.”
“It isn’t here.”
That was a lie.
The drive was inside Clarissa’s coat pocket.
Vanessa nodded slowly.
“Good.”
Clarissa checked the security feed.
No one outside.
“Why did Evelyn give you a key?”
Vanessa’s eyes moved toward the portrait.
“Because she said shame is only useful if it turns you around.”
Clarissa remembered Evelyn’s voice.
That sounded exactly like her.
“She told me I had one chance to do something decent.”
Clarissa said, “You could have stopped sleeping with my husband.”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“After how long?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“Eleven months.”
Clarissa absorbed it.
Nearly a year.
Birthdays.
Christmas.
Their ninth anniversary.
Eleven months.
Vanessa continued.
“Adrian doesn’t know it ended because I discovered a conscience. I told him Marcus wanted us focused.”
Clarissa laughed bitterly.
“How professional.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
Vanessa nodded.
Clarissa looked again at the ring on the table.
“I loved him.”
Vanessa’s voice softened.
“I know.”
Clarissa turned sharply.
“You do not get to say that.”
“You’re right.”
“You sat across from me at Thanksgiving.”
“I know.”
“You asked where I bought my dress.”
Vanessa looked down.
“I remember.”
“You drank wine with me while sleeping with my husband.”
“I remember.”
Clarissa’s voice broke.
“You let me hug you.”
Vanessa’s eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
Clarissa looked away.
For several seconds, the only sound was the old clock.
Then Vanessa said, “If you want me gone, I’ll go.”
Clarissa thought about it.
She wanted to throw her out.
She wanted never to see her again.
But Evelyn had trusted Vanessa with C-18.
Not forgiven.
Trusted with one task.
There was a difference.
“What’s in locker C-18?” Clarissa asked.
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“Then tomorrow we open it.”
Vanessa nodded.
“Before Marcus gets there.”
Clarissa picked up the divorce papers.
Folded them.
Then placed them back.
“No.”
Vanessa frowned.
“No?”
“We go tonight.”
“Clarissa—”
“Marcus thinks Evelyn is dead.”
“She is.”
“He doesn’t know I have her evidence.”
“Probably not.”
“Then tonight is the only time he won’t expect me to move.”
Vanessa stared.
Then slowly nodded.
“You really were Evelyn’s favorite.”
Clarissa’s eyes sharpened.
“Don’t push it.”
For the first time, Vanessa almost smiled.
They drove separately.
Union Station after midnight was nearly empty.
Clarissa parked two blocks away.
Vanessa met her beneath the old clock.
Neither spoke.
They descended to the service level.
C-17 stood open.
Clarissa stopped.
Her stomach dropped.
“I locked that.”
Vanessa whispered, “Someone got here.”
C-18 was beside it.
Still closed.
Vanessa inserted her key.
Inside was a small fireproof box.
No paperwork.
No flash drive.
Just a sealed envelope.
It read:
TO THE WOMAN WHO FINALLY TELLS CLARISSA THE TRUTH.
Vanessa’s hands trembled.
Clarissa opened it.
Inside was one photograph.
Adrian.
Marcus.
And a third man.
Damian Cross.
Taken outside a courthouse.
Date stamped six years earlier.
Clarissa frowned.
“Six years?”
Vanessa stared.
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Adrian told me he met Cross two years ago.”
On the back, Evelyn had written:
ASK ADRIAN ABOUT THE HARBOR ACCOUNT.
Clarissa turned to Vanessa.
“What is the Harbor Account?”
Vanessa had gone completely white.
“What?”
“You know it.”
“Not personally.”
“Vanessa.”
“I heard Marcus mention it once.”
“When?”
“Last month.”
“What did he say?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“He said if Clarissa ever learned about Harbor, Adrian would lose much more than his company.”
Clarissa’s pulse hammered.
A metallic sound came from the corridor.
Footsteps.
Vanessa switched off the locker light.
Someone was approaching.
Slowly.
Clarissa clutched the photograph.
The footsteps stopped outside C-18.
Then a man’s voice came through the darkness.
“Clarissa?”
She froze.
She knew that voice.
May you like
Adrian had come home.
And he was standing on the other side of the door.
