Chapter 9
I looked at Ethan.
He looked back at me.
For one second, neither of us moved.
Then I held up the phone.
“What do you owe?”
His face went pale.
“Claire.”
“What do you owe?”
Mark stood.
Ethan looked at him.
Then at Detective Alvarez.
“Student loans.”
“How much?”
“About sixty thousand.”
The detective asked, “Anything else?”
He hesitated.
My stomach dropped.
“Ethan.”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“I have business debt.”
“What business?”
“The restaurant investment.”
I stared at him.
“You told me you sold your share.”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
“For how much?”
He looked away.
“Ethan.”
“I didn’t make money.”
“How much did you lose?”
“About one hundred and forty thousand.”
My mouth went dry.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was handling it.”
“With what money?”
“My salary.”
“That would take years.”
“I refinanced.”
“What?”
“My condo.”
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because another man I loved had hidden money problems from me.
Ethan saw it on my face.
“This is not the same.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Secret debt. Secret insurance. Secret conversations.”
“I was not trying to hurt you.”
“How do I know?”
His face crumpled.
That question hurt him.
It hurt me too.
Detective Alvarez stepped between us emotionally, if not physically.
“Ms. Mercer, we need facts.”
I nodded.
She looked at Ethan.
“Who knew about Claire’s policy?”
“My parents.”
“Anyone else?”
“Our insurance adviser.”
“David?”
“No.”
“Mark?”
“No.”
Mark shook his head.
The detective asked, “Where are the documents?”
“At home.”
“Digital copies?”
“In my email.”
She held out her hand.
“I need them.”
Ethan unlocked his phone.
Then froze.
“What?”
He stared at the screen.
“My email password was changed.”
Nobody spoke.
He tried again.
Then opened his banking app.
His face changed.
“What?”
He whispered, “No.”
“What?”
“My checking account.”
“How much?”
“It’s empty.”
Detective Alvarez stepped closer.
“What was in it?”
“Forty-two thousand.”
My stomach dropped.
“When did the transfer happen?”
He stared at the screen.
“Today.”
“Where did it go?”
“I don’t know.”
Alvarez took the phone.
Ethan looked like he might be sick.
“I didn’t transfer that.”
I wanted to believe him.
That was the problem.
I wanted to believe people.
David had taught me what that could cost.
Ethan looked at me.
“Claire, please.”
I closed my eyes.
“I need proof.”
Pain crossed his face.
Then he nodded.
“Fine.”
No anger.
No manipulation.
“Whatever you need.”
Detective Alvarez began making calls.
Mark sat beside me.
I whispered, “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
He said, “Then don’t decide tonight.”
I looked at him.
“That’s the first smart thing anyone has said all day.”
He almost smiled.
An hour later, we learned Ethan’s money had been transferred to an account opened under his name.
The bank suspected identity theft.
That should have relieved me.
It didn’t.
Because whoever had done it had Ethan’s Social Security number.
His banking information.
And access to his email.
Detective Alvarez received another call.
This time she put it on speaker.
A detective at the hospital had spoken with Calvin Rusk.
He was conscious.
And terrified.
Alvarez asked, “What did he say?”
The voice on the phone answered.
“He says David Mercer owed him money, but he denies involvement in any insurance fraud.”
“Did Mercer promise him an insurance payout?”
“Yes.”
“Whose?”
There was a pause.
“Mercer told Rusk he expected a settlement after his daughter’s wedding.”
Everyone looked at me.
“What kind of settlement?” Alvarez asked.
“He wouldn’t say.”
I whispered, “My life insurance.”
The detective on the phone continued.
“Rusk says he thought Mercer planned to borrow money from family.”
“What happened to Rusk tonight?”
“He met someone at a parking garage.”
“Who?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“Why?”
“The person claimed they could repay David’s debt.”
My pulse jumped.
“How?”
“They offered Rusk access to an account containing forty thousand dollars.”
Ethan’s account.
My blood went cold.
“What happened next?”
“He drank coffee they brought.”
Ethan whispered, “He was drugged.”
“Yes.”
Detective Alvarez asked, “Did he describe the person?”
“A woman.”
The room froze.
“How old?”
“Forties or fifties.”
“What did she look like?”
“Blond hair. Glasses. About five-six.”
My mother slowly sat down.
Mark looked at her.
“What?”
Mom shook her head.
Nothing.
But I saw it.
She recognized something.
“Mom.”
“No.”
“What?”
She looked terrified.
“Mom.”
“There’s someone.”
Everyone stared at her.
“Who?”
She whispered, “Carla.”
The motel woman.
Red fingernails.
David’s old girlfriend.
My childhood memory sharpened again.
“She was blond.”
Robert stood.
“When she was younger.”
Mom nodded.
“She wore glasses.”
Detective Alvarez asked, “Full name?”
“Carla Jennings.”
The detective immediately made a call.
I looked at Mom.
“You think Carla is involved?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened to her?”
“She disappeared around the same time David did.”
Robert said, “Carla was questioned during the kidnapping case.”
“Was she charged?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“David claimed she didn’t know you were being kept illegally.”
I almost laughed.
“Did anyone believe that?”
Robert looked ashamed.
“There wasn’t enough evidence.”
Detective Alvarez turned back to us.
“Carla Jennings died nine years ago.”
Mom stared at her.
“What?”
“Car accident in Nevada.”
“Then who met Calvin?”
“We don’t know.”
My phone buzzed again.
We all looked at it.
Another photograph.
This one showed a woman entering a parking garage.
Blond hair.
Glasses.
The image was grainy.
But something about her face made my chest tighten.
I had seen her before.
Not in childhood.
Recently.
“Zoom in,” Lena whispered.
I did.
Then I remembered.
The woman had been at my bridal shower.
I had thought she was one of my mother-in-law’s friends.
“She was at my shower.”
Ethan stared.
“What?”
“I saw her.”
Lena grabbed the phone.
“She was at the rehearsal dinner too.”
My skin crawled.
“Who is she?”
Another message arrived.
YOU INVITED HER.
I shook my head.
“No, I didn’t.”
Then another.
CHECK TABLE TWELVE.
Wedding seating chart.
I opened the digital version.
Table twelve.
Eight names.
Most were Mark’s business contacts.
One name stood out.
Elaine Cole.
Mark stopped breathing.
“That’s impossible.”
I looked at him.
“Sarah’s mother?”
He nodded.
“She’s dead.”
“But she was invited.”
Mom looked sick.
“I didn’t put her there.”
Neither did I.
Ethan checked the wedding planning account.
“Someone added her six weeks ago.”
The same timeline again.
Six weeks.
David hired the investigator.
Sarah followed Mark.
Fake catering request.
Wedding guest added.
Detective Alvarez stared at the screen.
“Who had access to this account?”
“Me,” I said.
“Ethan.”
He nodded.
“Wedding planner.”
“And?”
I hesitated.
“My mother.”
Mom looked at me.
“And Mark?”
“No.”
“David?”
I felt stupid.
“I gave him the password.”
Everyone stared at me.
“He wanted to help with RSVPs.”
Detective Alvarez asked, “Could he have added the name?”
“Yes.”
Mark said, “But Elaine is dead.”
Sarah’s voice came through the phone.
We had forgotten she was still connected.
“My mother isn’t dead.”
Everything stopped.
Mark went white.
“What?”
Sarah’s voice shook.
“She told everyone she died.”
I stared at the speaker.
“What are you saying?”
“I lied earlier.”
“Why?”
“Because she made me promise.”
Mark stood.
“Sarah, where is Elaine?”
“I don’t know.”
His voice broke.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
Mom looked like she might faint.
Sarah continued.
“She staged her death last year.”
Detective Alvarez snapped, “Why?”
Sarah began crying.
“Because she found out David had been searching for her.”
My heart pounded.
“What did David want with her?”
Sarah whispered,
“He said she owed him for what happened twenty-two years ago.”
Robert’s face changed.
“What happened twenty-two years ago?”
Sarah’s breathing shook.
“My mother knew Carla.”
Nobody moved.
“She knew David too.”
Mark whispered, “How?”
“They were all involved in something.”
“What?”
Sarah said, “I never knew until Mom got sick.”
Her voice cracked.
“She told me David didn’t take Claire from school by himself.”
My hands went numb.
Robert leaned closer to the phone.
“Who helped him?”
Sarah answered.
“My mother.”
Mark stared at nothing.
I could barely breathe.
“Why?”
A long silence.
Then Sarah said,
“Because she wanted to destroy Mark’s new family.”
I felt sick.
But she wasn’t finished.
“And because David promised her something.”
“What?”
“Money.”
My voice shook.
“What money?”
Sarah began crying harder.
“The money wasn’t for returning you.”
Robert whispered, “What?”
“The twenty-five thousand dollars.”
Sarah took a broken breath.
“David split it with my mother and Carla.”
My childhood flashed through my mind.
Motel.
Red nails.
A woman whose face I barely remembered.
Maybe there had been another woman.
A woman watching from a car.
A woman who hated Mark.
May you like
Sarah whispered,
“My mother helped David kidnap you.”
