Chapter 10 - His Mistress Offered Me Two Million to Disappear
Paige Vale called my attorney at 8:14 the following morning.
She requested a confidential settlement meeting.
Caroline's first response was no.
Mine was different.
"I want to hear what she has to say."
Caroline studied me carefully.
"Claire, you don't need to face this woman."
"I know."
"Then why?"
"Because she thinks I'm still the person who apologized when she spilled champagne on my wedding dress."
Margaret almost smiled.
It had happened at my reception.
Paige bumped into me near the cake table, soaking the front of my gown.
I apologized instinctively.
She laughed.
Grant told me not to embarrass her.
I spent twenty minutes in the bathroom cleaning my dress while my new husband entertained his mistress.
The memory made my decision clearer.
The meeting took place at Caroline's office.
Detective Hayes was informed in advance, and Caroline arranged for the conversation to occur under appropriate legal safeguards.
Paige arrived at exactly ten.
She wore a white designer suit and diamond earrings.
Her hair was immaculate.
She looked at my healing face.
"Oh, Claire."
I said nothing.
"Grant told me you were improving."
Caroline gestured toward a chair.
"Ms. Vale, please explain your proposal."
Paige crossed her legs.
"I'm here because I believe everyone has suffered enough."
I almost laughed.
She continued.
"Grant is prepared to discuss a generous private arrangement."
"How generous?" Caroline asked.
Paige opened her folder.
"Two million dollars."
I stared at her.
She mistook my silence for interest.
"Paid through a legitimate settlement structure. Claire would retain certain personal assets and receive financial support while transitioning into an independent life."
"And in exchange?" Caroline asked.
Paige slid a document across the table.
I read the first page.
Then the second.
My stomach turned.
The proposal required me to withdraw or retract certain allegations to the extent legally permissible, release disputed civil claims, relinquish interests in specific corporate and research assets, and sign a confidentiality agreement.
Project Horizon was mentioned under a deliberately vague description.
Nonoperating intellectual-property interests.
I looked up.
"Two million?"
Paige smiled.
"It's enough to start over comfortably."
"How much have you moved through Vale Strategic Holdings?"
Her smile tightened.
"That's not relevant to this discussion."
"Forty-three million?"
Caroline watched her carefully.
Paige reached for her water.
"Claire, you're repeating figures you don't understand."
I leaned forward.
"Did Grant tell you I'd be grateful?"
She blinked.
"What?"
"Did he say I would take the money because I'd be afraid of losing everything?"
Paige exhaled.
"I think you're emotional."
I smiled.
Painfully.
"Of course you do."
For a moment, we stared at each other.
Then I asked the question I'd carried since the hospital.
"Did you know he was hurting me?"
Paige looked toward Caroline.
"I don't think that kind of accusation is productive."
"Did you know?"
She looked back at me.
Finally, she said, "Grant has a temper."
I felt something inside me become very still.
"A temper."
"He gets frustrated."
"And when he left bruises on my arms?"
Paige's face changed.
I remembered wearing long sleeves during summer board meetings.
I remembered Paige quietly recommending a new concealer.
I remembered her telling me that successful marriages required discretion.
"You knew," I whispered.
She didn't answer.
That was enough.
I pushed the settlement document back across the table.
"No."
Paige stared.
"Claire, be reasonable."
"I am."
"Two million dollars is a substantial offer."
"My father didn't build a company so you could purchase my silence with money taken from it."
Her expression hardened.
"You're making a mistake."
I stood.
"Then it's mine to make."
Caroline ended the meeting.
Paige gathered her documents.
But at the door, she paused.
"There's something you should know about Noah Reed."
I froze.
Caroline immediately looked up.
Paige smiled again.
"Did he tell you why he transferred out of his previous hospital?"
I said nothing.
"Maybe you should ask."
Then she left.
The remark disturbed me more than I wanted to admit.
Grant had always attacked people who helped me.
He accused Margaret of manipulating me.
He called my friends jealous.
He described my father as controlling.
Now Paige was reaching for Noah.
I called him that evening.
He answered on the second ring.
"Claire?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Why did you leave your previous hospital?"
A pause.
"That's a specific question."
"Paige brought it up."
His voice changed.
"What did she say?"
"That I should ask you."
Noah sighed.
"Four years ago, I reported a senior administrator for pressuring physicians to alter certain billing documentation. There was an investigation. I eventually left and joined St. Catherine's."
"Did you do something wrong?"
"No."
"Was Grant involved?"
"Not that I knew of."
I closed my eyes.
"She wanted me to doubt you."
"Probably."
I leaned against the kitchen counter.
"I'm sorry."
"Claire, don't apologize for asking a question."
I smiled.
He paused.
"How was the meeting?"
"She offered me two million dollars."
"To do what?"
"Disappear."
"And?"
"I told her no."
There was silence.
Then Noah said softly, "I'm proud of you."
Those four words warmed a place inside me I thought had permanently frozen.
After the call, I went into Margaret's kitchen.
She was making soup.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"Paige thinks I'm stupid."
Margaret stirred the pot.
"An expensive mistake."
I laughed.
For the first time, it didn't hurt quite as much.
Then Caroline called.
Paige had apparently panicked after leaving the meeting.
Less than an hour later, she contacted an accountant associated with one of the shell vendors.
The accountant's attorney had already approached investigators about cooperation.
And Paige, unaware of that development, had allegedly instructed him to revise certain transaction descriptions.
Caroline's voice was unusually animated.
"Claire, her attempt to control the story may have created additional evidence."
I sat down.
"Of what?"
"Knowledge of the irregular transfers."
For a moment, I felt almost triumphant.
Then Caroline continued.
"There's one more thing."
"What?"
"The accountant says Project Horizon wasn't the only asset they were trying to acquire."
I stopped smiling.
"He mentioned another account. It was created years ago and held in your mother's name."
My heart began racing.
"My mother died seventeen years ago."
"I know."
"Then who has been using her name?"
Caroline paused.
"That's what we're trying to establish."
At the same moment, Margaret entered the room holding an old family photograph.
She looked pale.
"Claire."
"What?"
She turned the picture over.
There was a handwritten address on the back.
A small farmhouse in northern Vermont.
The same address Ellen Foster had given us.
Below it, in my mother's handwriting, were five words:
For the daughter we protected.
I stared at Margaret.
"What daughter?"
May you like
She closed her eyes.
And for the first time in my life, my aunt looked afraid to tell me the truth.
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