Chapter 8 - BEHIND THE WILDFLOWERS
The watercolor paintings had belonged to Jonathan Bennett.
Claire had forgotten that.
She remembered choosing them for the nursery because they reminded her of childhood summers in Wisconsin.
Her father had painted none of them.
But he had bought them from a tiny gallery shortly before his death.
Claire removed the first frame.
Nothing.
The second.
Nothing.
Behind the third, taped beneath the backing paper, was a thin brass plate containing a sequence of numbers.
Rebecca recognized them as coordinates inside the North Harbor warehouse plans.
The original ledger had never been in the storage facility.
Jonathan had created a copy.
The original was hidden beneath the warehouse floor.
Federal agents recovered it the following morning.
It contained everything.
Dates.
Payments.
Account numbers.
And a handwritten statement describing Richard Hale's threat against Jonathan two days before his death.
Most importantly, Jonathan had written that if anything happened to him, investigators should examine a maintenance payment made to a mechanic employed by a Richard-controlled company.
The mechanic was still alive.
He had spent eleven years in Arizona.
Faced with the ledger and financial records, he confessed.
Richard had paid him to sabotage Jonathan's car.
The order had come directly from Richard Hale.
Claire received the news sitting beside the lake.
For eleven years, a small part of her had blamed her father.
He had always driven too fast.
Worked too late.
Ignored bad weather.
Now she knew.
He had been murdered because he refused to let powerful men steal from people who trusted him.
Claire cried until she could no longer distinguish grief from relief.
Vincent did not come when Rebecca told him.
He sent one message.
I'm here if you want me.
Claire stared at it for several minutes.
Then typed:
Come.
He arrived twenty minutes later.
Claire opened the door.
Neither spoke.
She stepped forward.
Vincent wrapped his arms around her.
And Claire finally broke.
Not like the ballroom audience had wanted.
Not beautifully.
Not quietly.
She sobbed against the chest of the man who had wounded her more deeply than anyone still alive.
Vincent held her.
Nothing more.
He did not ask forgiveness.
He did not tell her everything would be fine.
He simply stayed.
An hour later, Claire sat on the sofa with swollen eyes.
"I hate that you're still the person I wanted."
Vincent looked down.
"I don't deserve that."
"Stop deciding what I should feel."
He nodded.
"Fair."
She leaned back.
"I don't know if I can forgive you."
"Then don't."
Claire frowned.
"What?"
"Don't forgive me because I'm sorry. Don't forgive me because we have a baby. Don't forgive me because I finally figured out what an idiot I've been."
A tiny smile touched her mouth.
"That last argument is surprisingly persuasive."
Vincent smiled too.
Then his expression softened.
"If you ever forgive me, I want it to be because I've earned enough trust for forgiveness to be safe."
Claire stared at him.
"Where was this man thirteen years ago?"
"Probably reading executive summaries instead of footnotes."
She laughed.
Then winced as the baby kicked.
Vincent's eyes immediately dropped.
"Was that her?"
Claire hesitated.
Then took his hand.
She placed it against her stomach.
Their daughter kicked again.
Vincent stopped breathing.
He had felt her move before.
But this time was different.
Everything was different.
"She's angry," Claire whispered.
"Genetic mystery where she got that."
Claire narrowed her eyes.
"Careful."
He smiled.
For one fragile minute, they were simply parents.
Then Vincent's phone rang.
Federal investigators had located Richard.
He was inside Hale Tower.
On the forty-third floor.
Vincent's former office.
And he had taken Martin Kellerman hostage.
Richard demanded the original ledger.
Claire's blood chilled.
Vincent stood.
"No."
She looked at him.
"No what?"
"I know that expression."
"What expression?"
"The one where you're about to involve yourself."
"Martin has worked for us for twenty years."
"And federal agents are handling it."
Claire stared.
Then slowly smiled.
Vincent frowned.
"What?"
"You finally said it."
"Said what?"
"Exactly what I told you at North Harbor."
He almost laughed.
"Apparently marriage is educational."
"Former marriage."
His smile disappeared.
"Right."
Claire immediately regretted the sharpness.
But Vincent nodded.
"Right."
He left.
Not for Hale Tower.
For the federal command center, where investigators had requested his help communicating with Richard.
Claire stayed home.
It was perhaps the greatest sign of growth either of them had shown.
Richard Hale was arrested at 11:42 p.m.
He released Martin after Vincent convinced him the original ledger had already been digitized and distributed to investigators.
There was nothing left to destroy.
No empire left to recover.
No secret left worth killing for.
As officers led Richard from Hale Tower, cameras captured Vincent standing behind police barriers.
A reporter shouted:
"Mr. Hale, did your wife destroy your company?"
Vincent stopped.
Claire watched the broadcast from home.
She expected him to keep walking.
Instead, he turned.
"My wife saved it."
The reporters erupted.
Vincent continued.
"She discovered fraud I should have discovered myself. Whatever happens to Hale Consolidated next, don't confuse accountability with destruction."
Then he walked away.
Claire stared at the television.
Daniel stood behind her.
"Interesting."
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
Daniel smiled.
Claire's phone vibrated.
A message from Vincent.
Richard is in custody. Martin is safe. Go to sleep.
Claire typed:
Bossy.
Three dots appeared.
Working on it.
Claire smiled.
Then another sensation stopped her.
Warm liquid.
She looked down.
Daniel saw her face.
"Mrs. Hale?"
Claire gripped the table.
"My water just broke."
Daniel's eyes widened.
"Now?"
A contraction answered for her.
May you like
Claire breathed.
"Call Vincent."
