Chapter 4 - THE THIRD WOMAN
I spun around.
A woman stood ten feet away holding a set of car keys.
Blonde.
Mid-thirties.
Red jacket.
Terrified eyes.
Natalie moved closer to me.
“Who are you?”
The woman looked past us into the storage unit.
Then at the photograph in my hand.
Her face went pale.
“Oh God.”
I held up the picture.
“That’s you.”
She closed her eyes.
“My name is Megan.”
“How do you know Ryan?”
Silence.
Natalie crossed her arms.
“Megan.”
She swallowed.
“He’s my fiancé.”
I actually laughed.
I couldn’t help it.
Megan stared at me.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing.”
I wiped a hand over my face.
“You’re just number three.”
Her expression went blank.
“What?”
I pointed at Natalie.
“His wife.”
Then at myself.
“His other wife.”
Natalie corrected me.
“Technically, girlfriend with a wedding.”
“Not helping.”
Megan backed away.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“No, Ryan’s divorced.”
Natalie gave a bitter laugh.
“Welcome to the club.”
Megan looked ready to run.
I held up my phone.
“Wait.”
She stared at me.
“How did you know about this unit?”
“Ryan asked me to pick up a suitcase.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
My skin prickled.
“He was released this afternoon.”
“I know.”
Natalie’s head snapped up.
“You talked to him?”
Megan nodded.
“He said there’d been a misunderstanding.”
“Of course he did.”
“He said his ex-wife broke into your house and attacked him.”
Natalie took one furious step forward.
I caught her arm.
“Not her fault.”
Megan looked between us.
“He said Claire was unstable.”
I raised my hand.
“Also me.”
She covered her mouth.
“Oh my God.”
For the next ten minutes, we told her everything.
Not all at once.
We didn’t need to.
The marriage certificate was enough.
Then the fake divorce decree.
Then the loan documents.
By the time I finished, Megan was crying.
“He borrowed forty thousand dollars from me.”
Natalie went still.
“For what?”
“He said he was buying into a construction project.”
“Did you sign anything?”
“No.”
“Did you transfer it?”
“Yes.”
“To him?”
“To a company.”
“What company?”
Megan pulled out her phone.
“Cole Development Group.”
Natalie and I exchanged a look.
Neither of us had ever heard of it.
I called Detective Harris.
This time, we listened when he told us not to touch anything.
We stood outside until police arrived.
Harris walked into the unit, surveyed the filing cabinets and suitcases, then looked at us like a disappointed father.
“I told you not to come here.”
Natalie shrugged.
“We’re bad listeners.”
“I’m noticing.”
Because Megan had been authorized to access the unit, she signed consent forms allowing police to inspect the contents.
They opened the first cabinet.
Bank statements.
Insurance policies.
Copies of driver’s licenses.
The second cabinet was worse.
Loan applications.
Property records.
Credit reports.
Some belonged to Natalie.
Some belonged to me.
Some belonged to people none of us knew.
Detective Harris’s expression changed.
“This is bigger than we thought.”
Then an officer opened one of the suitcases.
Cash.
Stacks of it.
Maybe fifty thousand dollars.
Maybe more.
Underneath was an envelope.
Harris put on gloves and opened it.
Inside were three passports.
Ryan’s.
Mine.
And one belonging to a woman named Emily Parker.
Megan frowned.
“Who’s Emily?”
Nobody knew.
Then Natalie opened the photograph she had taken of the back cabinet.
“There’s another file.”
Harris pulled it out.
EMILY PARKER.
Inside was a marriage license application.
Unsigned.
Dated three weeks earlier.
Megan stared at the page.
“He proposed to me two months ago.”
I felt the anger return.
“You weren’t next.”
Natalie whispered, “Neither was she.”
Harris reached deeper into the folder.
His face tightened.
“What?”
He turned one document around.
It was a life insurance policy.
Policyholder: Ryan Cole.
Insured person: Claire Morgan.
Beneficiary: Ryan Cole.
Coverage amount:
$750,000.
I stopped breathing.
May you like
Then Harris said the five words I would hear in nightmares for months.
“Claire, did you authorize this?”
