Chapter 5 - The Woman Who Disappeared Before Me
Maya saw the man before I had completely turned around.
"Don't look directly at him," she whispered.
"Too late."
Natalie gathered her papers.
"That's one of Victor's security contractors."
"Are you sure?" I asked.
She nodded.
"His name is Owen Blake."
The man lowered his phone and walked away.
I wanted to follow him.
Maya caught my wrist.
"No. We document it, and we leave."
Natalie looked pale.
"This is exactly what happened before."
I reached across the table.
"Before what?"
She swallowed.
"Before everybody started telling me I was unstable."
Her words settled heavily between us.
Over the next thirty minutes, Natalie told us the part of her story she had never included in any formal complaint.
After refusing to sign Victor's document, she had begun receiving strange phone calls.
Her car appeared to be followed.
A private investigator approached her neighbors.
Anonymous accounts published photographs of her outside restaurants, implying she was having an affair.
Then a story appeared on a local gossip website claiming she had stolen confidential information from her employer after being rejected by the Mercer heir.
"It wasn't true," Natalie whispered.
"But once the story spread, every time I tried to explain what happened, people assumed I was seeking revenge against Adrian."
She had eventually moved to Milwaukee.
Changed her phone number.
Accepted a lower-paying position.
Started over.
"Why return now?" I asked.
She looked at me.
"Because I spent three years feeling ashamed of something I didn't do. Then I saw your wedding photographs, and I realized silence wasn't protecting me anymore."
I understood that.
Better than she knew.
When Maya and I returned to her apartment, I had twenty-six missed calls.
Fourteen from Adrian.
Eight from Victor's office.
Four from unknown numbers.
There were also three new emails.
The first came from Mercer Family Management.
Subject: NOTICE OF MARITAL PROPERTY REVIEW
The second came from Thomas Whitaker.
Subject: URGENT — CONFIDENTIALITY OBLIGATIONS
The third came from my employer's human resources department.
That one made my blood turn cold.
Dear Claire,
We have received an allegation concerning your potential involvement in an undisclosed outside consulting arrangement. Please contact the compliance department immediately.
I read the email twice.
Outside consulting arrangement.
Bennett Advisory Services.
Suddenly, the organizational chart Natalie had shown me became far more frightening.
I called my supervisor, Elena Parker.
Elena had mentored me for almost four years. She was demanding, precise, and fiercely protective of the firm's professional reputation.
"Claire," she answered. "I'm glad you called."
"Elena, I have no involvement in any outside consulting arrangement."
"I hoped you'd say that."
"What exactly was reported?"
She hesitated.
"Someone submitted documents suggesting you accepted compensation from a Mercer-affiliated entity while participating in compliance matters involving one of its business partners."
"That's false."
"I believe you. But we have to investigate."
"I understand."
"And Claire?"
"Yes?"
"The documents include what appears to be your electronic signature."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The second attack.
Adrian had failed to frighten me into obedience.
Now someone was attempting to damage the one thing I had built entirely on my own.
My career.
I spent the afternoon working with Elena and independent counsel to gather records demonstrating that I had never accepted money from Bennett Advisory Services.
We also preserved the threatening correspondence.
By evening, I was exhausted.
Maya ordered Chinese food.
I barely touched it.
"You're allowed to be angry," she said.
"I am angry."
"No, you're calculating. That's different."
I put down my chopsticks.
"If I stop calculating, I might start crying."
She moved beside me.
"Then cry."
And I did.
Not because I missed Adrian.
Not because I wanted the marriage back.
I cried for the woman who had spent eighteen months believing every carefully rehearsed promise.
I cried for Natalie, who had endured years of humiliation in silence.
I cried because my wedding bouquet was probably still sitting somewhere inside that enormous house while the man who had given it to me was trying to destroy my career.
Eventually, I wiped my face.
"Okay."
Maya looked at me.
"Okay what?"
"Now we work."
The following morning, Rachel arranged a meeting with a forensic accountant.
His name was Daniel Foster.
I stared at the appointment confirmation.
"The same Daniel Foster Natalie mentioned?"
Rachel nodded.
"Apparently, he resurfaced recently and has been consulting independently."
When we arrived at his office, Daniel greeted us with a firm handshake.
He was fifty, with graying hair, rectangular glasses, and a nervous habit of straightening papers that were already perfectly aligned.
He listened while I explained the allegations against me.
Then I placed the organizational chart on his desk.
His expression changed.
"Where did you get this?"
"From Natalie Price."
He removed his glasses.
"She's helping you?"
"Yes."
Daniel stared at the document.
Then he opened a drawer and took out an old external hard drive.
"I've spent three years hoping someone would ask me about this."
"What is it?" I asked.
"A record of transactions that never should have existed."
He connected the drive to his computer.
A spreadsheet appeared.
Rows of transfers.
Company names.
Dates.
Authorization codes.
I recognized one name.
Bennett Advisory Services.
Beside it was a seven-figure amount.
My mouth went dry.
"Daniel, what am I looking at?"
He turned toward me.
"Evidence that someone began preparing your involvement in this scheme before you even met Adrian."
I leaned closer.
"And who authorized it?"
Daniel clicked a tab.
One name appeared repeatedly.
VICTOR MERCER.
May you like
But the final approval column contained a second name.
ADRIAN MERCER.
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