Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN DOMINIC REFUSED TO SUSPECT
Dominic said nothing.
Arthur did.
“That is a lie.”
Eleanor Langley looked at him with tears running down her face.
“I wish it were.”
Dominic’s mother, Catherine Vale, had been dead for eighteen years.
To Claire, she was little more than a name.
To Dominic, she had been the woman who taught him to read at four, ride a horse at six and never enter a room without noticing the exits.
He had spoken about her only twice in Claire’s four years working at the estate.
Always with respect.
Never with bitterness.
Dominic looked at Eleanor.
“My mother died seven years before Elizabeth.”
“I know.”
“Then explain yourself.”
Eleanor sank into a chair.
“Catherine discovered Arthur’s relationship with Elizabeth.”
Arthur shook his head.
“After we separated.”
“You were separated privately,” Eleanor said. “The world didn’t know.”
Arthur’s face tightened.
“Catherine did.”
“She also knew Elizabeth was pregnant.”
Claire wrapped her arms around herself.
Dominic noticed and quietly moved closer.
Eleanor continued.
“Catherine was afraid.”
“Of Claire?” Dominic asked.
“Of scandal. Of inheritance. Of what Malcolm would do with the information.”
Arthur frowned.
“Malcolm?”
Eleanor nodded.
“He had been blackmailing Catherine.”
That changed the room.
Arthur sat.
“With what?”
“With financial records showing she had secretly invested in one of Malcolm’s companies.”
Dominic stared.
“My mother funded him?”
“Not knowingly at first.”
Eleanor explained that Catherine had invested through intermediaries.
When she learned Malcolm was stealing from Vale companies, she tried to withdraw.
He threatened to expose her.
Arthur asked, “And Elizabeth?”
“Elizabeth found proof.”
Claire’s voice shook.
“So Catherine killed her?”
“No.”
Everyone paused.
Eleanor wiped her face.
“I said Malcolm wasn’t the one who killed Elizabeth. I didn’t say Catherine did it herself.”
Dominic’s patience ended.
“Stop playing with words.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“Your mother ordered someone to frighten Elizabeth into leaving Philadelphia.”
Arthur’s face collapsed.
“What?”
“She wanted her gone.”
“Who did she hire?”
Eleanor hesitated.
“Thomas Hale.”
Marcus went white.
Dominic looked at his security chief.
Marcus barely moved.
“My father?”
Eleanor nodded.
Marcus stepped backward.
“My father worked for Arthur.”
“He also worked for Catherine when she asked.”
Arthur looked sick.
Thomas Hale had died six years earlier.
Marcus stared at the floor.
“What happened that night?”
Eleanor whispered, “The plan was to stop Elizabeth’s car. Scare her. Make it clear that remaining near the Vale family would be dangerous.”
Claire could hardly force the words out.
“But she died.”
“Yes.”
“Was my mother murdered?”
Eleanor looked at her.
“The brakes failed before Thomas reached her.”
Arthur’s head snapped up.
“What?”
“The accident was already going to happen.”
Marcus frowned.
“Then my father didn’t cause it?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
Victoria laughed bitterly.
“You always know enough to ruin everyone except yourself.”
Eleanor looked at her daughter.
“I tried to protect you.”
“By helping Malcolm?”
“By surviving him.”
Victoria’s eyes hardened.
“That excuse sounds familiar.”
Dominic turned to Arthur.
“You said Claire discovering you was alive connected to Elizabeth’s murder. Why?”
Arthur removed another photograph.
It showed Elizabeth Dawson standing beside a younger Arthur outside a warehouse.
Behind them was a third person.
A young Thomas Hale.
On the back, a date.
Two weeks before Elizabeth died.
“Thomas came to me after Catherine hired him,” Arthur said.
Marcus looked up.
“He told you?”
“Yes.”
“He betrayed her?”
“He refused the job. He warned Elizabeth instead.”
Marcus sat slowly.
Arthur continued.
“Thomas believed Malcolm had learned about Catherine’s plan and intended to exploit it. If Elizabeth died, suspicion would fall on Catherine.”
Dominic understood.
“Malcolm sabotaged the brakes.”
“We believed so. But there was never proof.”
Claire stared at Arthur.
“Why didn’t you go to police?”
“We did.”
“To who?”
Arthur hesitated.
Dominic saw it.
“Say the name.”
“Detective Raymond Cole.”
Marcus swore.
Dominic walked toward the window.
Raymond Cole was now deputy commissioner of the Philadelphia Police Department.
One of the most powerful law enforcement officials in the city.
And one of the men Dominic had considered reliable.
Claire looked around.
“This just keeps getting worse.”
Dominic turned.
“Yes.”
She almost laughed.
Instead, she said, “At least you’re honest.”
For the first time that night, his mouth nearly moved toward a smile.
Nearly.
Then Marcus’s phone vibrated.
He checked it.
His expression changed.
“We have a problem.”
Dominic was already walking toward him.
“What?”
“Claire’s house.”
Her heart dropped.
Marcus turned the screen.
A security camera from a neighboring house showed a dark SUV parked across from Claire’s father’s row house.
Claire grabbed her phone.
She called.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
“Emma.”
Dominic was moving before she said the name.
“Marcus, cars.”
Claire followed.
Victoria stepped forward.
“You can’t leave me here.”
Dominic looked at a guard.
“Lock her in the east guest suite.”
“You can’t imprison me!”
“Watch me.”
Claire was already at the front door.
Dominic caught up.
“I’m coming.”
“You’re not stopping me.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
They reached Claire’s neighborhood in sixteen minutes.
Two black SUVs.
No sirens.
No headlights for the final block.
Dominic’s men spread quietly.
Claire saw her father’s front door standing open.
She ran.
Dominic grabbed her around the waist.
“No.”
“My daughter is inside!”
“And whoever opened that door may still be inside.”
She fought him.
“Let me go!”
His grip remained firm.
“Claire.”
“Emma!”
A light flickered upstairs.
Then a little girl appeared at the bedroom window.
Claire nearly collapsed.
Emma.
Alive.
She banged on the glass.
“Mom!”
Dominic released Claire only after Marcus entered and called the house clear.
Claire ran inside.
Emma flew down the stairs into her arms.
Claire held her so tightly the child complained.
“Mom, I can’t breathe.”
Claire laughed and cried at the same time.
Her father, Daniel Dawson, emerged from the kitchen with blood on his forehead.
Dominic’s face changed.
“What happened?”
Daniel looked at him.
“Two men came through the back.”
Claire grabbed her father.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“What did they want?”
Daniel looked toward Emma.
“Sweetheart, take Emma upstairs.”
“No,” Claire said.
Daniel’s expression told her this was not for a child.
Dominic crouched in front of Emma.
“Do you know Marcus?”
Emma looked at the large security chief.
“He scares me.”
Marcus blinked.
Dominic almost smiled.
“He scares everybody. He’s going to stand outside your room while you pick something to pack.”
Emma looked at Claire.
“Are we going somewhere?”
Claire swallowed.
“For tonight.”
Emma reluctantly went upstairs.
Daniel waited until she was gone.
Then he looked at Claire.
“They asked for something your mother left.”
Claire froze.
“What?”
“A key.”
Arthur, who had arrived in a third vehicle, entered behind them.
Daniel saw him.
The color vanished from his face.
“You.”
Claire turned.
“You know Arthur?”
Her father’s shoulders sagged.
“Claire…”
She stepped away from him.
“No.”
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face.
“I promised your mother.”
“Everybody keeps saying that.”
“She made me promise.”
“To lie to me?”
“To keep you alive.”
Claire’s voice broke.
“You raised me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re my dad.”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Daniel’s eyes filled.
“I’m not your biological father.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“I know.”
His surprise lasted only a second.
Then he saw Arthur.
He understood.
Daniel walked toward a cabinet and pulled out an old wooden box.
Claire recognized it.
It had belonged to her mother.
Daniel opened it.
Inside was a small brass key.
And a photograph.
Claire picked it up.
Elizabeth stood with Arthur.
Beside them was a younger Daniel.
And Catherine Vale.
Dominic’s mother.
All four were smiling.
“What is this?”
Daniel answered.
“We were friends before everything went bad.”
Claire stared at him.
“You knew Catherine?”
“Very well.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“Why did men come for the key?”
Daniel looked toward the brass object.
“Because Elizabeth hid the original foundation ledger.”
Arthur inhaled.
“You told me it was destroyed.”
“No.”
“Where?”
Daniel looked at Claire.
“Your mother left instructions that only Claire could retrieve it.”
“Retrieve it from where?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Her grave.”
Silence filled the room.
Then headlights appeared through the front window.
Marcus looked outside.
His hand moved inside his jacket.
Another vehicle had stopped.
A man stepped onto the sidewalk.
Tall.
Gray suit.
Claire recognized him immediately.
“The man from the hallway.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
Arthur whispered:
“Malcolm.”
Malcolm Wren lifted both hands to show he carried no weapon.
Then he shouted through the closed door:
“Before you dig up Elizabeth’s grave, Claire, you should know something.”
Nobody answered.
May you like
Malcolm smiled.
“The woman buried there isn’t your mother.”
