Chapter 9 - The Woman at the Door
Ruth Bell had been Claire’s closest friend.
After the funeral, she had come by with casseroles and offers to watch Lily.
Nathan remembered thanking her.
He also remembered Vanessa, months later, telling him Ruth had said he was moving on too quickly.
He had stopped returning her calls.
Now he stood on her porch with the old email open on his phone.
Ruth looked at him through the screen door.
“Nathan.”
“I owe you an apology.”
She didn’t open the door immediately.
“For which part?”
He accepted that.
“For disappearing. For believing something without asking you. Probably for things I don’t know yet.”
Ruth studied him.
Then she saw the photograph of Claire in the email attachment.
Her hand went to her chest.
“Where did you get that?”
“An old computer.”
She opened the door.
The blue recipe box sat on the highest shelf in her pantry.
“I tried to give you this,” she said.
“When?”
“Twice. Once after the funeral. Again the next spring.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Your father said you couldn’t handle more of Claire’s things yet. Then Vanessa said you’d asked people to stop bringing them.”
Nathan sat down.
“I never said that.”
Ruth lowered the box between them.
“I know that now.”
Inside were recipe cards.
Banana bread.
Chicken soup.
Claire’s terrible attempt at her mother’s biscuits.
Underneath them lay a sealed envelope.
NATE.
His name in the handwriting that still appeared on birthday decorations Beth refused to throw away.
He opened it carefully.
Claire’s letter was short.
She had found fake invoices.
Transfers routed through a business Vanessa controlled.
Loan documents carrying Nathan’s forged signature.
She planned to meet an accountant the following morning.
Attached were copies.
Dates.
Amounts.
A note identifying a recording she had made during a confrontation at the office.
Then Nathan reached the last paragraph.
I’m angry, and I’m scared, but I’m not leaving you. If someone says I was taking Lily away or running off with money, that isn’t true. I’m coming home after I talk to them. We’ll figure this out together.
He covered his mouth.
For four years, Richard had told him Claire had been unhappy.
Vanessa had gently suggested there were things husbands didn’t always see.
They had given him a dead woman he could question and no way for her to answer.
Ruth pushed a tissue box toward him.
“There’s something else.”
She took a small memory card from a plastic sleeve.
“Claire said to keep this with the papers.”
Nathan looked up.
Ruth’s eyes were wet.
May you like
“I never listened to it.”
He called Shaw before he let himself touch it.
