Chapter 10: The Trap
Chapter 10: The Trap
The district attorney wanted more.
The old evidence was powerful, but much of it was circumstantial. The fire was five years old. Daniel’s death was older. Clara’s lawyers would argue that traumatized people had created a conspiracy around her.
We needed Clara to reveal what she knew.
I agreed to wear a recording device.
Against Ruiz’s instructions, I called Clara.
“I want to fix this,” I told her.
She was silent for several seconds.
Then she said, “You finally understand what you’ve done?”
“I overreacted.”
“You called the police.”
“I was scared.”
“You humiliated me.”
“I know.”
She agreed to meet at the Hawthorne house.
Police waited two blocks away.
When I entered, Clara had lit candles throughout the living room.
The sight was deliberate.
She poured wine but didn’t drink.
“You look tired,” she said.
“I lost my job.”
“Temporarily.”
“You filed the complaint.”
She smiled faintly.
“Can you prove that?”
“No.”
“Then perhaps you should stop making accusations you can’t prove.”
I sat across from her.
“What happened to Lena?”
“She died.”
“We found the video.”
Her glass stopped halfway to her lips.
I continued.
“We found Daniel’s journal too.”
Clara lowered the glass.
“You broke into my home.”
“It’s our home.”
“Not anymore.”
“Did Daniel know you cut his brakes?”
She laughed once.
“You’re wearing a wire.”
My blood chilled.
She stood and walked toward me.
“You always touch your chest when you’re nervous.”
Before I could react, she grabbed my shirt and tore the recording device away.
She crushed it beneath her heel.
Then smoke drifted beneath the kitchen door.
“Clara.”
She stepped backward.
“You wanted to know about the fire.”
The smoke alarm had been disabled.
Flames climbed the kitchen curtains.
“You set the house on fire?”
“No,” she said calmly. “You did.”
She picked up an empty gasoline container using my gardening gloves.
Then she placed it beside my chair.
“You attacked your wife. You panicked. You tried to destroy the evidence.”
The front door would not open.
She had locked it with a deadbolt requiring a key from the inside.
Clara held the key.
Then a child’s voice came from upstairs.
“Daddy Ethan?”
My heart stopped.
Harper stood at the top of the staircase.
May you like
Clara had taken her from the foster home.
And brought her into the burning house.
