Chapter 3 - The Call She Wouldn’t Answer
Claire reached for the phone.
Daniel got there first.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“It’s my phone.”
Daniel looked at the screen again.
Nolan Price.
The CFO had worked beside Daniel for seven years.
He had attended Robert Carter’s funeral.
He had toasted Daniel and Claire at their wedding.
He had once carried Ethan out of a flooded warehouse after a burst pipe sent shelving crashing down.
Daniel had trusted him almost as much as family.
The phone stopped vibrating.
Claire held out her hand.
“Daniel.”
“What is Lakebridge?”
“I told you. A consulting firm.”
“Who owns it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You recommended them.”
“Nolan recommended them.”
Daniel’s gaze hardened.
“And you reviewed them.”
“I review dozens of vendors.”
Ethan spoke quietly.
“Not real office.”
Everyone turned.
“What?” Daniel asked.
Ethan pointed to the invoices.
“Address.”
Daniel looked.
1147 Crossway Boulevard, Suite 220.
“So?”
Ethan rubbed his fingers together nervously.
“I looked it up.”
Claire scoffed.
“Of course you did.”
Ethan ignored her.
“It’s mailboxes.”
Daniel took out his phone and searched the address.
A shipping-and-business-services store appeared.
Private mailbox rentals.
No Lakebridge offices.
Natalie whispered, “Jesus.”
Claire folded her arms tighter.
“That doesn’t prove anything. Thousands of legitimate LLCs use mailing addresses.”
She was right.
That was what made Daniel nervous.
Claire was frightened, but she wasn’t stupid.
She understood enough to know where suspicion ended and proof began.
Daniel placed her phone on the mantel.
“No one leaves.”
Claire laughed.
“You don’t get to imprison me.”
“No one is imprisoning anyone.”
“I’m going upstairs.”
“To do what?”
“Change my shirt.”
Daniel stared at the blouse she had torn herself.
For the first time, Claire looked embarrassed.
Not ashamed.
Embarrassed that her performance had failed.
“You can change in the downstairs guest room,” Natalie said. “I’ll get you clothes.”
Claire glared at her.
“This is my house.”
Ethan’s head lifted.
“No.”
Claire turned.
“What did you say?”
Ethan swallowed.
“This house is all of ours.”
Silence.
Technically, Ethan was right.
Robert had placed the family residence into a tenancy arrangement through the Carter Family Property Trust. Daniel, Ethan, and Natalie each held equal beneficial interests, although Daniel lived there permanently and handled most expenses.
Claire had always called it her house.
Daniel had allowed it.
He suddenly wondered how many other small assumptions had accumulated into power.
Claire’s phone vibrated again.
This time a text preview appeared.
CALL ME. WE NEED TO KNOW WHAT THE CAMERA HAS.
Daniel felt the room turn cold.
Claire lunged.
He picked up the phone before she reached it.
“Daniel!”
He held it away.
“Don’t.”
“You cannot search my messages without permission.”
Again, she was right.
Daniel looked at Natalie.
His sister understood immediately.
“Photograph the lock screen. Don’t open anything.”
Daniel used his own phone.
Claire’s expression became murderous.
“You think that makes you clever?”
“No,” Daniel said. “It makes me careful.”
He had learned caution about twenty minutes too late.
Ethan was sitting now.
His cheek was visibly red.
Daniel finally forced himself to walk over.
Ethan watched him approach.
Daniel stopped several feet away.
“I’m sorry.”
Ethan’s eyes lowered.
Daniel’s throat tightened.
“I should never have hit you.”
Ethan said nothing.
“I should have listened.”
Still nothing.
Daniel crouched.
“I was wrong.”
Ethan’s jaw trembled.
“You thought I did it.”
The simplicity of the sentence broke something in Daniel.
“For a few seconds.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“No.”
“You hit me.”
“Yes.”
Ethan looked up.
“You promised Dad.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“I know.”
Ethan wiped his face.
“I don’t want you close right now.”
Daniel stood immediately.
“Okay.”
He moved away.
No protest.
No request for forgiveness.
Ethan had the right to decide the distance between them.
That realization felt important.
Claire watched the exchange with an unreadable expression.
Then the doorbell rang.
Everybody froze.
Daniel checked the security monitor.
A black sedan sat in the circular driveway.
A man stood at the front door.
Nolan Price.
Claire whispered something under her breath.
Daniel looked at her.
“You told him to come?”
“No.”
The doorbell rang again.
Natalie glanced at Daniel.
“What do we do?”
Daniel looked at the security screen.
Nolan adjusted his tie.
Then, strangely, he looked directly toward the camera above the front entrance.
Not casually.
Deliberately.
Daniel walked to the intercom.
“Nolan.”
A pause.
Then Nolan’s voice.
“Daniel. We need to talk.”
“About what?”
Another pause.
“Claire.”
Behind Daniel, Claire went rigid.
“And Ethan,” Nolan added.
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
“What about Ethan?”
Nolan looked toward the camera again.
May you like
Then he said something nobody in the living room expected.
“You need to stop looking at the Lakebridge invoices.”
