Chapter 5 - The Name Before Monica
Ryan had married Monica Foster fourteen months after Claire’s funeral.
At least, he had believed her name was Monica Foster.
They met at a fundraising gala for pediatric cancer research.
She told him she managed luxury events.
She was elegant without seeming impressed by wealth.
Patient with Grace.
Attentive when Ryan spoke about Claire.
She said all the right things.
I would never try to replace her mother.
Ryan had nearly cried the first time she said it.
Now Lydia placed an old corporate report on the library table.
The report had been prepared by Claire.
Not an auditor.
Claire herself.
“She sent this to me about six weeks before her final hospitalization,” Lydia said.
Ryan opened it.
The document listed vendor names, payment dates, and corporate registrations.
One company was circled.
Pierce Lifestyle Holdings.
Registered agent:
Marissa Elaine Pierce.
Ryan looked at Lydia.
“Do you have a photograph?”
“No.”
Marcus Bell was already typing.
Public databases were limited, but he found an archived state filing.
Marissa Pierce had operated three companies over twelve years.
Event management.
Property staging.
Residential consulting.
All dissolved.
One listed mailing address belonged to a condo complex in Scottsdale, Arizona.
Another used a commercial mailbox in Nevada.
Marcus searched deeper.
Then he stopped.
“I found an alias reference.”
Ryan leaned closer.
A civil lawsuit from eight years earlier mentioned that Marissa Pierce also conducted business as Monica F. Pierce.
Ryan felt the air leave his lungs.
“Monica.”
Lydia said nothing.
Marcus continued.
The lawsuit involved unpaid event vendors.
It had settled privately.
No criminal charges.
Nothing that would necessarily appear in an ordinary social background search.
Ryan remembered conducting one before marriage.
Monica Foster had seemed clean.
Because Monica Foster had barely existed.
“Could Foster be legitimate?” Ryan asked.
“Possibly a prior married name,” Lydia said. “Possibly an assumed professional name. We need records.”
Rosa entered carrying a small plastic bag.
Inside was Claire’s pool photograph.
Wet.
Warped.
But intact.
“I found it in the filter basket.”
Grace followed behind her.
“Mommy swims now,” she said.
Ryan crouched.
He touched the plastic gently.
“We can fix this.”
Grace considered him.
“Monica said Mommy was gone so pictures didn't matter.”
Ryan closed his eyes briefly.
“When did she say that?”
Grace shrugged.
Children had no sense of which details adults considered important.
“Sometimes.”
Rosa looked furious.
Ryan swallowed.
“What else did Monica say?”
Grace focused on the crayons in her hand.
“She said Daddy gets sad when I talk about Mommy.”
Ryan felt something break inside him.
Because that part was true.
He had never told Grace to stop.
But after Claire died, every mention of her had reopened a wound Ryan could barely survive.
Monica must have noticed.
And used it.
Grace had learned to protect her father by grieving quietly.
Ryan sat on the floor.
“Listen to me.”
Grace looked up.
“You can talk about Mommy whenever you want.”
“Even if you're sad?”
“Especially then.”
She leaned against him.
Across the room, Marcus’s laptop chimed.
He glanced at the screen.
“Ryan.”
Something in his tone changed.
Ryan stood.
Marcus turned the computer.
A property database displayed a condominium in Miami purchased eighteen months earlier by a limited liability company.
The beneficial ownership record available through litigation filings named Marissa Pierce.
The purchase price was $1.2 million.
“Where did the money come from?” Ryan asked.
“We don't know.”
Marcus opened another document.
“But the LLC's banking relationship appears connected to Halcyon.”
Ryan looked at Lydia.
“Company money bought Monica an apartment?”
“We don't know that yet.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Then stop jumping ahead of the evidence.”
Ryan exhaled sharply.
She was right.
Again.
Marcus scrolled.
“There is something we do know.”
The condo purchase closed three weeks before Ryan met Monica at the gala.
Ryan froze.
Monica had been financially connected to a company receiving questionable Carrington payments before she ever introduced herself to him.
Their meeting had not been chance.
Ryan remembered the gala.
Monica standing near the donor wall.
Monica knowing Claire’s name.
Monica knowing Grace’s age.
He had thought she had researched him after recognizing who he was.
Now he understood.
She had researched him before entering the room.
His phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
Stop digging into Claire’s old accusations. You have more to lose than you think.
Ryan stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
A photograph.
May you like
Grace asleep in the library.
Taken through the mansion window less than five minutes earlier.
