Chapter 15 - Claire Disappears
Andrew slept for fourteen hours.
Claire did not leave the room.
Neither did Julian.
He said very little.
At some point around dawn, Claire realized he had fallen asleep in his wheelchair beside the window.
His head leaned slightly to one side.
For once he looked unguarded.
Andrew opened his eyes shortly after seven.
His first words were:
“You like him.”
Claire nearly dropped her coffee.
“You’ve been awake four seconds.”
“Long enough.”
“He almost got me killed.”
“So did I.”
“Not helping your case.”
Andrew smiled weakly.
Then his expression became serious.
“You need to find Dad’s archive before Cole’s people do.”
“Cole is in custody.”
“Cole has people who don’t know they work for him.”
Claire sat.
“How?”
“Layers.”
That word again.
“Law firms hire consultants. Consultants hire investigators. Companies hire contractors. Most people only know one instruction.”
“Like the lake.”
Andrew nodded.
“Few guests knew Julian might actually die. They were simply told not to interfere with a staged medical event.”
Claire felt sick remembering it.
“Why put me there?”
Andrew looked guilty.
“I sent the email.”
“I know.”
“I needed you close to Julian.”
“You could have warned me.”
“If I warned you, your behavior would change.”
“You gambled with both our lives.”
“Yes.”
Claire stood.
Andrew did not defend himself.
“Why?”
“Because I knew the electrical cable had been disabled.”
“You disabled it?”
“Yes.”
“And the wheelchair?”
“I couldn’t stop it.”
“So you knew what was going to happen?”
“I knew Cole planned a public incident. I didn’t know exactly how.”
Claire’s anger softened only slightly.
“You counted on me jumping.”
“I counted on you being you.”
“That sounds nicer than it was.”
“I know.”
Julian had awakened.
He remained silent.
Andrew noticed.
“You can stop pretending.”
Julian frowned.
“About?”
“Your legs.”
Claire laughed.
“You really did know everything.”
“Not everything.”
Andrew looked at Julian.
“Can you walk?”
“Six steps with braces.”
“Then we’re running out of time.”
“Why?”
“Because Cole’s legal structure has a clause.”
Julian rolled closer.
“What clause?”
“If you regain independent mobility and cognitive capacity is verified, control of three trusts automatically returns to you.”
Claire understood.
“That destroys their leverage.”
“Yes.”
“And Cole knows?”
“He drafted it.”
Julian’s mouth tightened.
Andrew continued.
“Matteo inserted the clause secretly through another lawyer.”
“So Cole only discovered it recently.”
“Probably.”
“The lake was his response.”
“Yes.”
Claire said, “Then we find the archive and end it.”
Andrew nodded.
“I know where Dad put it.”
Everyone turned.
Claire stared.
“You just said—”
“I needed to know if you remembered the clue.”
“What?”
“Because if you didn’t, I couldn’t risk telling you.”
“Andrew.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Where?”
He looked toward Lake Bellweather.
“Under the old observation pier.”
The pier had been removed twelve years earlier.
But foundations remained underwater.
Robert hid a waterproof cylinder inside one support.
The archive contained copies of legal documents, bank ledgers, recorded conversations, and payment lists.
Enough to expose the full network.
Federal divers prepared to recover it.
Claire insisted on watching.
By noon, the terrace filled with investigators.
Julian remained indoors under heavy security.
Andrew stood beside Claire.
A diver surfaced.
“Found the support!”
Claire’s heart raced.
Another diver descended.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Then a shout.
“Empty!”
Claire stared.
Andrew went pale.
“That’s impossible.”
The cylinder housing had been opened.
Recently.
Scratches were fresh.
Someone had beaten them again.
Claire turned.
“Who knew?”
“Dad. Me.”
“No one else?”
Andrew hesitated.
“Mom.”
Their mother had died thirteen years earlier.
“So no one.”
“Unless she told someone before she died.”
Claire thought.
Their mother’s closest friend.
Family lawyer.
Doctor.
Then Andrew said:
“Margaret Cole.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Of course.
After their father died, Margaret helped their mother handle the estate.
She could have learned about the trust.
Perhaps even the archive.
“Where is Margaret?”
Federal custody.
But someone working for her might have recovered it earlier.
Claire’s phone buzzed.
A message from Margaret’s attorney.
His client wished to speak with Claire privately.
Federal facility.
Claire agreed.
Margaret sat behind glass.
No makeup now.
No perfect confidence.
“I moved the archive,” she said immediately.
Claire stared.
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“Why?”
“To keep Samuel from destroying it.”
“You expect me to believe you suddenly developed a conscience?”
“No.”
Margaret looked tired.
“I developed fear.”
“Of your husband?”
“Of what happens when men like Samuel realize loyalty has limits.”
“Where is it?”
“I’ll tell you.”
“What do you want?”
“My son protected.”
Claire frowned.
Samuel and Margaret had a son?
“Who?”
Margaret looked at her.
“Evan Mercer.”
Claire froze.
“Mercer?”
“His legal name.”
Claire remembered the guard.
Young.
Terrified.
Manipulating them.
“He’s your son?”
“Yes.”
“Does Samuel know?”
“No.”
“Who’s his father?”
Margaret laughed sadly.
“Not Samuel.”
Claire waited.
Margaret said, “Matteo Vescari.”
Another secret.
Another family line.
Evan was Julian and Victoria’s half-brother.
Claire felt dizzy.
“Does Evan know?”
“He learned recently.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what do you want me to protect him from?”
“Samuel.”
Margaret leaned toward the glass.
“He believes Evan stole the archive.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
Claire exhaled.
“Where would he take it?”
“To the only person he thinks can protect him.”
“Who?”
Margaret stared at Claire.
“You.”
Claire almost laughed.
“He hasn’t contacted me.”
“He will.”
Claire left the facility.
Two agents accompanied her.
She entered the parking garage.
The lights flickered.
Claire stopped.
One agent touched his radio.
Static.
The other turned.
A van accelerated from behind a concrete pillar.
Claire tried to move.
A door opened.
Hands grabbed her.
She kicked.
Shouted.
One agent went down.
The second reached for her.
Then something covered Claire’s mouth.
The world blurred.
Her last thought was not Julian.
Not Andrew.
Not even fear.
It was the realization that Margaret had been right.
Evan had contacted her.
Just not voluntarily.
When Claire woke, she was lying inside a moving vehicle.
Evan Mercer sat opposite.
A bruise covered half his face.
His hands were tied too.
“Claire.”
She struggled upright.
“Where are we?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who took us?”
Evan looked toward the front of the vehicle.
Then whispered:
“Samuel’s people.”
Claire’s heart sank.
“And the archive?”
Evan closed his eyes.
“They have it.”
For the first time since jumping into Lake Bellweather, the enemy possessed everything they had been fighting to protect.
May you like
Including Claire.
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