Chapter 3 - The Woman in the PhotographThree days later, I found the first real clue.
It wasn't in my company.
It wasn't in Claire's office.
It wasn't even in Chicago.
It was in a photograph.
Michael had ignored my instruction and quietly investigated the courthouse image.
He found the photographer.
A retired process server named Leonard Price.
We met him in a diner outside Naperville.
Leonard placed a folder on the table.
“Your wife wasn't there for a divorce filing.”
I stared at him.
“Then why?”
“Protective order.”
Against whom?
He slid another paper across the table.
Elliot Graves.
My CFO.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“What did Elliot do?”
“Nothing criminal, according to the court.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Leonard hesitated.
“Your wife believed someone inside Carter Holdings was diverting money.”
“How much?”
“Thirty-two million.”
I laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because it sounded impossible.
“Thirty-two million doesn't disappear without me noticing.”
Leonard looked at me.
“That's exactly why whoever did it was good.”
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
STOP LOOKING FOR CLAIRE.
I stared at it.
Then another message appeared.
YOU'RE ALREADY TOO LATE.
Michael reached for the phone.
“Don't.”
I held it away.
A photograph arrived.
Claire.
She was sitting inside a diner.
Alive.
Her hair was tied back.
One hand rested over her pregnant stomach.
Beside her sat Rebecca.
But someone else was visible in the reflection of the window.
A man.
I enlarged the photograph.
My heart stopped.
Elliot Graves.
The next message appeared.
ASK YOUR WIFE WHY SHE STOLE FROM YOU.
Then the phone went silent.
I drove directly to Elliot's house.
He opened the door wearing a gray sweater and an expression of surprise that looked almost convincing.
“Daniel?”
“Where is Claire?”
His face went pale.
“I don't know.”
“Why were you with her?”
“I wasn't.”
I held up the photograph.
He stared at it.
Then closed his eyes.
“Come inside.”
Michael moved forward.
Elliot shook his head.
“Just Daniel.”
I stepped inside.
His house was immaculate.
Too immaculate.
“Claire came to me because she discovered something.”
“What?”
“She believed your company was being used to move money through shell companies.”
“By whom?”
Elliot looked toward the windows.
“Your father.”
My entire body stiffened.
“My father has been dead for eight years.”
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
“Before he died, your father created accounts you didn't know existed.”
“What kind of accounts?”
“Political donations. Offshore trusts. Private security payments.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe my father was secretly moving millions without telling me?”
“No.”
Elliot looked directly at me.
“I expect you to believe that someone wanted you to think your father was responsible.”
Silence.
“Who?”
Elliot didn't answer.
Instead, he walked toward his desk.
Then the lights went out.
A gunshot shattered the window.
Elliot fell.
I grabbed him and pulled him behind the desk.
Michael drew his weapon.
“Stay down!”
Another shot struck the wall.
Then silence.
We waited.
When the police arrived, Elliot was alive.
Barely.
At the hospital, doctors took him into surgery.
Michael stood beside me.
“You understand what this means?”
“Yes.”
“Someone tried to kill your CFO.”
I looked through the glass toward the operating room.
“And they knew I'd be here.”
My phone vibrated again.
This time, it was Claire.
One sentence.
Daniel, if you still love our daughter, stop looking for me.
I stared at the message.
Then another appeared.
And whatever happens next, don't trust the man who saved your life.
I slowly looked at Michael.
May you like
He was standing directly beside me.
And suddenly, for the first time in twelve years, I wondered if my most loyal man had been loyal to me at all.
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