Chapter 5 - THE BENNETT PATTERN

By noon, Marcus had found three women.

Rebecca Lawson.

Andrea Price.

Melissa Grant.

All had dated or married Daniel.

All came from families with money.

All had suffered strange financial disputes afterward.

Andrea lost control of a commercial property partnership.

Melissa spent three years fighting over shares inherited from her father.

Rebecca vanished.

“This is insane,” I said.

Marcus shook his head.

“No. It’s organized.”

Naomi pulled up corporate records.

Margaret Bennett owned a consulting company.

Harold Finch served as registered counsel.

Daniel appeared nowhere.

“That keeps him clean,” Naomi said.

“Clean?”

“On paper.”

My phone buzzed again.

This time Margaret.

Claire, marriage requires maturity. Come home.

I stared at it.

Then blocked her.

Marcus almost smiled.

“Good.”

Samantha agreed to meet us.

We chose a busy restaurant.

She arrived carrying a thick envelope and looking over her shoulder.

She was forty, maybe.

Rebecca’s eyes stared back at me from her face.

She didn’t sit immediately.

“Did anyone follow you?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

Marcus answered.

“Yes.”

She finally sat.

I slid the marriage certificate across the table.

Samantha touched her sister’s name.

“She wore blue.”

“What?”

“At her wedding. Rebecca hated white dresses.”

Her eyes filled.

“She thought Daniel loved her.”

“So did I.”

Samantha laughed bitterly.

“That’s his talent.”

She opened the envelope.

Inside were letters.

Bank statements.

Photographs.

One photograph showed Margaret and Harold standing beside Rebecca outside a courthouse.

Another showed Daniel arguing with Rebecca in a parking lot.

Samantha pushed a handwritten note toward me.

Rebecca’s handwriting.

If something happens to me, Daniel knows why.

I looked up.

“Did police see this?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“No body. No proof.”

Marcus studied the note.

Samantha continued.

“Rebecca discovered Daniel had tried to obtain power of attorney over part of her family estate.”

My stomach tightened.

“Just like my prenup.”

“Yes.”

“She confronted him?”

“She called me.”

“What did she say?”

“That Margaret told her she should be grateful the Bennetts were willing to manage her money.”

I remembered Margaret criticizing my investments.

Suggesting Daniel should handle the trust.

Calling my independence “unfeminine.”

Every insult suddenly had a purpose.

Then Samantha pulled out one last photograph.

My breath stopped.

It showed Harold Finch outside a storage facility.

The date printed on the corner was three days after Rebecca disappeared.

Beside him stood Margaret.

Between them was a large black trunk.

The same size as the object I had heard being dragged across my bedroom floor.

I looked at Samantha.

“Where is that storage facility?”

She swallowed.

“About fifteen miles from your house.”

Marcus stood.

“We’re going.”

Samantha grabbed his wrist.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I went there yesterday.”

My heart stopped.

“And?”

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