Chapter 4 - THE PRICE OF THE TRUTH

Claire wanted a name.

Evelyn wanted the foreclosure stopped.

Neither woman trusted the other.

That was exactly why Evelyn believed she still had leverage.

“Cancel the enforcement notice.”

“No.”

“Then you don’t get the name.”

Claire stared through the conference room windows at Chicago below.

“My father has been dead for fourteen years.”

“And another twenty-four hours won’t hurt him.”

Preston stood.

“Mom!”

Evelyn ignored him.

Claire’s voice became ice.

“You’re bargaining with my father’s murder.”

“I’m bargaining for my family.”

“You should have thought about your family before you stole mine.”

The call ended.

Claire looked at Preston.

He looked sick.

“I didn’t know.”

“Knowing isn’t the only form of guilt.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you spent your entire life refusing to ask where the money came from.”

Preston’s face tightened.

“That’s not fair.”

“No?”

Claire stepped closer.

“Last night your mother hit me.”

“You attacked me.”

“After you grabbed me and raised your hand.”

Preston looked away.

Claire continued.

“You didn’t ask what happened.”

“You didn’t ask whether she was wrong.”

“You saw your mother hurt someone and decided your job was to hurt that person again.”

Preston said nothing.

“That is how families like yours survive.”

Claire’s voice softened.

“Not because everyone is evil.”

“Because everyone decides not to look.”

At 5:00 p.m., the deadline expired.

The Harringtons did not pay.

At 5:01, Donovan Capital assumed control of the Halston Grand.

Evelyn received formal notice while sitting in her library.

She tore it in half.

Then she called someone she had not contacted in eleven years.

A man answered.

“You shouldn’t be calling me.”

“I need help.”

“With Claire?”

Evelyn froze.

“How do you know?”

“I read the news.”

“She found Charles’s letter.”

Silence.

“She also saw Thomas’s toxicology report.”

The man stopped breathing for a moment.

“You showed her?”

“I needed leverage.”

“You idiot.”

Evelyn’s face hardened.

“Watch your mouth.”

“You just reopened a death investigation.”

“She doesn’t know who you are.”

“Yet.”

Evelyn looked toward the windows.

“What do we do?”

The man answered.

“We make sure she never gets the rest.”

That evening Claire returned to her apartment.

The door was open.

She stopped.

She had locked it.

Claire called 911.

Police arrived.

Nothing obvious had been stolen.

Except one thing.

Her father’s original file.

Claire stood in the middle of the room.

Detective Maya Torres studied the broken lock.

“Someone knew what they wanted.”

“Yes.”

“You have enemies?”

Claire almost laughed.

“One or two.”

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

A photograph appeared.

It showed Claire entering the Halston Grand that afternoon.

Another message followed.

STOP DIGGING INTO THOMAS DONOVAN.

Claire showed Maya.

The detective’s expression hardened.

Then another photograph arrived.

This one had been taken fourteen years earlier.

Thomas Donovan sat inside a restaurant.

Across from him was Evelyn.

And beside Evelyn sat a man whose face Claire recognized immediately.

Harold Price.

The Harrington family attorney.

Claire stared at the photograph.

Then Maya noticed something in the background.

A reflection in the restaurant mirror.

A fourth person had been sitting at the table.

Someone had been cropped from the original photograph.

Maya enlarged the reflection.

Claire stopped breathing.

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The fourth person was Charles Harrington.

And according to every record Claire had ever seen, Charles had been in London that night.