Chapter 3 - THE SECRET THEIR PARENTS SHARED
Claire had spent her entire life believing her father was ordinary.
Thomas Bennett had worked long ambulance shifts, coached youth baseball on Sundays and complained about the price of gasoline.
He had died when Claire was nineteen.
Heart attack.
At least that was what she had been told.
Now she was staring at a photograph proving he had known Victoria Cross.
“Turn it over,” Claire said.
Damian did.
Three words were written on the back.
IF ARTHUR FINDS OUT.
No one spoke.
Claire called her sister.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Her panic rose.
Damian touched her shoulder.
“I have people checking.”
“I don’t want people checking. I want Caroline.”
“You’ll have her.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
His honesty stopped her.
“But I know whoever took her wants something. That means she has value alive.”
Claire hated that he was right.
They prepared for Pier Seventeen.
Damian ordered a duplicate ledger made while the original remained secured underground.
Claire changed into dark trousers and one of Damian’s sweaters.
It smelled faintly of cedar.
When she entered his study, Damian looked at her for a second too long.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
A trace of a smile appeared.
Then vanished.
At 4:12 a.m., they reached the waterfront.
Claire remained inside an armored SUV while Damian approached the warehouse with Nicholas and four men.
Her phone rang.
Caroline.
Claire answered instantly.
“Caroline?”
Her sister was crying.
“I’m okay.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
A man took the phone.
“Claire Bennett.”
She recognized the distorted voice.
“You have ten minutes.”
“For what?”
“Leave Damian’s vehicle. Walk east.”
“No.”
“Then your sister dies.”
Claire looked through the windshield.
Damian was fifty yards away.
She made a decision.
She opened the door.
One of Damian’s guards stopped her.
“Ma’am—”
Claire slammed the door into him and ran.
She hated herself for it.
But Caroline had two children.
Claire could not risk their mother.
She reached an alley between warehouses.
A black sedan waited.
The rear door opened.
“Get in.”
Claire did.
A hood covered her head.
Twenty minutes later, she was pushed into a chair.
The hood came off.
She was inside an abandoned office.
Caroline sat across the room, wrists tied.
“Claire!”
A woman stepped from the shadows.
Claire stared.
“Evelyn.”
Damian’s aunt smiled.
At sixty-three, Evelyn Cross looked more like a museum trustee than the architect of a kidnapping.
Perfect silver hair.
Pearls.
Calm blue eyes.
“You always were clever,” Evelyn said.
“You killed Victor.”
“No. Victor killed himself by becoming sentimental.”
Claire looked at Caroline.
“Let her go.”
“When you tell me where the original ledger is.”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“You think Damian gave it to me?”
“I think Damian would give you Manhattan if you asked correctly.”
Claire said nothing.
Evelyn smiled.
“Yes. Everyone sees it except the two of you.”
“What do you want with the ledger?”
“History erased.”
“You stole twenty-eight million.”
“That money belongs to this family.”
“It belongs to Cross Atlantic employees.”
Evelyn’s expression hardened.
“You sound like Victoria.”
Claire froze.
“You knew my father.”
“Very well.”
“Why?”
Evelyn walked toward the window.
“Your father saved Victoria’s life once.”
Claire listened.
“Arthur beat his wife,” Evelyn said. “Not often. He preferred control to bruises. Victoria planned to leave him.”
Damian had never known.
“She discovered Arthur’s payment network,” Evelyn continued. “Your father helped her copy the evidence.”
“What happened?”
“Arthur discovered them.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
“He killed Victoria?”
Evelyn smiled sadly.
“Arthur ordered it.”
“And my father?”
“Thomas escaped with evidence.”
“Then why did he stay silent?”
“Because Arthur threatened you and Caroline.”
Claire felt sick.
Her entire childhood suddenly looked different.
The locked desk.
Her father checking windows at night.
His refusal to discuss certain years.
“And his heart attack?”
Evelyn looked at her.
Claire knew before she spoke.
“It wasn’t a heart attack.”
Rage replaced fear.
“You killed him.”
“I protected my family.”
“You murdered mine.”
Evelyn leaned closer.
“And I will do it again.”
A door opened.
A man entered.
Claire recognized him immediately.
Marcus Reed.
The security chief who had supposedly been shot beneath the mansion.
His shoulder was perfectly fine.
Claire stared.
“The blood…”
“Squib pack,” Marcus said.
Claire understood.
The attack underground had been staged.
Marcus had controlled Damian’s security for six years.
Which meant Evelyn had known almost everything Damian did.
Evelyn checked her watch.
“Damian should be discovering your disappearance now.”
Claire’s stomach dropped.
“You wanted him at the pier.”
“I wanted the estate empty.”
“Why?”
Evelyn smiled.
“Because while Damian is searching for you, Nicholas Cross is going to die.”
May you like
Claire stared at her.
“And Damian will believe you killed him.”
