Chapter 2 - The Woman From the Photograph
I knew the voice.
Mara Voss stepped from behind the library curtains.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
She looked different.
No federal jacket.
No practical black pants.
Tonight she wore a fitted silver evening dress, and her blond hair was styled like she belonged among the donors downstairs.
My hand tightened around the photograph.
"You know Grant."
Mara looked at the closed door.
"Lower your voice."
"You know Evelyn."
"Claire."
"You told me you had never met my husband."
"I told you what was necessary."
My throat tightened.
The room suddenly felt too small.
"You gave them the fob."
"No."
"They knew about it."
"I didn't tell them."
"Then explain this."
I shoved the photograph toward her.
Mara looked at it.
Her reaction confused me.
She didn't look guilty.
She looked afraid.
"Where did you get this?"
"Arthur."
"Where is Arthur now?"
"I don't know."
She grabbed my wrist.
"We need to find him."
I pulled away.
"Don't touch me."
"Claire, listen carefully. That photograph isn't what you think."
"That's becoming everyone's favorite sentence."
"The meeting happened fourteen months ago."
"Before you approached me."
"Yes."
"Then you lied."
"Yes."
At least she admitted it.
"Why?"
Mara looked toward the door again.
"Because your mother-in-law approached federal investigators first."
I stared at her.
"Evelyn?"
"She claimed Grant was moving money without Arthur's knowledge."
"That's ridiculous."
"I know that now."
"Now?"
"At the time, we thought she might become a cooperating witness."
I almost laughed.
"Evelyn would sell her own reflection if it gave her more control."
"That's essentially what happened."
Mara lowered her voice.
"She wasn't trying to expose Grant. She was trying to identify how much investigators already knew."
My anger paused.
"She used you."
"Yes."
"And Grant?"
"He appeared at the restaurant unexpectedly."
"Unexpectedly?"
"That's what Evelyn claimed."
I looked again at the photograph.
Grant didn't look surprised.
He looked comfortable.
"You still haven't explained the fob."
"I personally tested it before giving it to you."
"Someone cut the wire."
Mara's expression hardened.
"Show me."
I removed it.
She examined the seam.
"Damn."
"So much for federal protection."
"This wasn't broken when I gave it to you."
"How can you know?"
"Because the signal test was registered."
"When?"
"Six weeks ago."
"Anyone could have disabled it since."
"Exactly."
Her eyes moved toward the hallway.
"Where did you keep it?"
"With me."
"Always?"
I hesitated.
Not always.
I kept it in my jewelry drawer while sleeping.
Grant rarely touched my jewelry.
At least, I thought he didn't.
"Mostly."
Mara understood immediately.
"We need to get you out."
"I've been trying to leave for a year."
"This is different."
"Because?"
"Someone knows you're cooperating."
The words made my stomach twist.
"How much do they know?"
"I don't know."
"That's not good enough."
"No, it isn't."
I heard voices outside.
Mara moved toward the curtains.
"Don't react to anything tonight."
"What does that mean?"
"It means smile. Stay near crowds. Don't be alone with Grant."
"He assaulted me forty minutes ago."
Mara's face changed.
She looked at my injury more closely.
"What happened?"
"Exactly what it looks like."
"Did you use the fob?"
"That's how I discovered it was broken."
She cursed under her breath.
"I can get you out through the service entrance."
"No."
Her eyebrows lifted.
"No?"
"Arthur warned me Evelyn found something."
"Then Arthur may know who disabled the device."
"That's why I'm staying."
"Claire—"
"You spent two months telling me evidence matters."
"Evidence doesn't matter if you're dead."
The sentence hung between us.
I wanted to be afraid.
Instead, anger spread through me.
For three years, everyone had made decisions for me.
Grant.
Evelyn.
Even Mara.
No more.
"I'm finding Arthur."
The library door opened.
Grant stood there.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
He looked at Mara.
Then at me.
A slow smile appeared.
"There you are."
Mara transformed immediately.
"Mr. Whitaker."
Grant extended his hand.
"I don't believe we've met."
Mara shook it.
"Mara Evans. Hartford Children's Trust."
The lie came effortlessly.
Grant looked at me.
"You disappeared."
"Mara was asking about next year's foundation program."
"Was she?"
"Yes."
He studied us both.
Then smiled.
"Wonderful. Come have champagne."
Mara followed us.
For the next hour, I existed inside a nightmare disguised as a fundraiser.
Grant gave a speech about protecting vulnerable children.
People applauded.
Evelyn thanked donors.
Arthur remained missing.
I searched every room with my eyes.
Nothing.
At 9:20, I received a text.
Unknown number.
BASEMENT. LAUNDRY STAIRS. COME ALONE.
I looked around.
Grant was speaking with Senator Hale.
Evelyn stood near the fireplace.
Mara was across the room.
I slipped away.
The laundry stairs led to the older section of the basement.
Staff rarely used it.
I opened the door.
"Arthur?"
Silence.
I descended.
At the bottom, one overhead light was on.
Arthur sat in a chair.
His hands weren't tied.
But he looked frightened.
"Claire."
I ran toward him.
"What happened?"
"I had to get you alone."
"You sent the message?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He pulled a key from his pocket.
Small.
Brass.
"Your husband's study has a private safe."
"I know."
"No. Another one."
He handed me the key.
"I found it behind the fireplace panel."
"What is inside?"
"I don't know."
"Then why does it matter?"
"Because Evelyn has spent the entire afternoon trying to find this."
I stared at the key.
"Why?"
Arthur looked ashamed.
"Because I heard her tell Grant that if you opened that safe, everything would be over."
My pulse jumped.
"Everything?"
"Our family. The company. Maybe worse."
"Why didn't you open it?"
"I tried. It needs the key and a six-digit code."
"Do you know the code?"
He nodded.
"041792."
I froze.
The number scratched onto my broken fob.
Arthur saw my reaction.
"What?"
I showed him the device.
His face drained of color.
"Where did you get that?"
"A federal agent."
Arthur stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
"No."
"What?"
"Claire, that isn't federal equipment."
I stared at him.
"What are you talking about?"
"I've seen that device before."
"Where?"
Arthur's lips trembled.
"In Grant's office."
I could barely process the words.
"That makes no sense."
"He ordered hundreds of them."
"For what?"
Arthur looked toward the staircase.
"Tracking."
My blood went cold.
The fob hadn't been designed to summon help.
It had been designed to tell someone exactly where I was.
Before I could ask another question, the basement door slammed upstairs.
Someone locked it.
May you like
Then Grant's voice echoed down the stairwell.
"Claire?"
