Chapter 8 - The SignatureNoah stared at the document for almost a minute.
“I didn't sign this.”
They were in a private conference room at the hospital.
Nora sat opposite him.
Detective Chen stood by the door.
Ethan remained near the window.
Noah pushed the paper away.
“That isn't my signature.”
Nora said, “It resembles your other signatures.”
“It resembles them because someone copied them.”
“Your digital credential also appears in the authorization log.”
“Then someone used it.”
Chen asked, “Who had access?”
“No one.”
“Assistants?”
“My executive assistant can schedule through my account. She can't authorize payments.”
“Your phone?”
“Biometric.”
“Laptop?”
“Password.”
Chen made a note.
Noah looked at Ethan.
“You believe me.”
Ethan wanted to.
“That isn't enough.”
Noah laughed.
“Of course.”
“Stop.”
“No, this is great. I spend my entire life being the irresponsible Mercer brother, so naturally when somebody needs a convenient idiot—”
“This isn't about that.”
“It is always about that.”
Nora interrupted.
“Mr. Mercer, we need facts, not therapy.”
Noah looked at her.
“I like you.”
“I get that constantly.”
Ethan nearly smiled.
Noah leaned forward.
“I approved a pilot wellness budget because Claire told me Mom needed help. That's it.”
“How did Claire approach you?” Chen asked.
“She came to my office.”
“When?”
“Last summer.”
“Was Martin involved?”
Noah hesitated.
“Martin recommended Kessler.”
Ethan looked at him sharply.
“You never mentioned that.”
“I didn't think it mattered.”
“Everything matters now.”
Noah rubbed his forehead.
“Martin said Cedar Vale handled private medical arrangements for several executives.”
Nora asked, “Did he ask you to approve Hearthwell?”
“No.”
“Did you ever see that name?”
“Not until today.”
Chen gathered the documents.
“We'll verify the access logs.”
Noah stood.
“Am I a suspect?”
Chen looked at him.
“Everyone who touched this program is relevant.”
“That means yes.”
“That means don't leave the area.”
After she left, Noah rounded on Ethan.
“Happy?”
“No.”
“You finally get to be right about me.”
“I don't want to be right.”
“You never trusted me with the company.”
“Dad didn't trust you.”
“There it is.”
Ethan regretted the words immediately.
Noah's face hardened.
“Dad also lied to regulators, apparently. Maybe stop using him as your measuring stick.”
He left.
Nora quietly closed the door behind him.
“He's right.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“The truth's.”
“I hate that answer.”
“Most people do.”
She opened another file.
“I also checked the Hearthwell batches.”
“How?”
“Purchase records.”
She pointed to delivery dates.
The packets had arrived weekly.
The dates aligned disturbingly well with Lily's complaints.
Ethan stopped breathing for a moment.
“Police need every packet.”
“They're collecting them.”
“What about Claire?”
“Her purchase account ordered them.”
“So she poisoned Lily.”
“Maybe.”
Ethan glared at Nora.
“What does maybe mean?”
“It means financial records tell you who paid, not who altered a product.”
“She said she had my child in the palm of her hand.”
“I know.”
“She said without her antidote—”
“I know what she said.”
Nora closed the laptop.
“But something bothers me.”
“What?”
“If Claire wanted control, why leave the antidote where police could find it?”
“She didn't. It was in the trash.”
“An empty bottle.”
“So?”
“So whoever threw it away removed evidence that Claire was administering a counteragent.”
Ethan stared.
“You think someone wanted her to look worse.”
“I think we don't have enough.”
That evening Ethan returned to the mansion.
Claire had spent the day answering questions.
She looked exhausted.
Her wedding gown was gone, replaced by sweatpants and one of Ethan's old college shirts.
For one dangerous second she looked like the woman he loved.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
Ethan sat across from her in the sunroom.
“What happened to the drops?”
“I don't know.”
“You administered them.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Kessler told me they helped with the headaches.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I did.”
“You called them minerals.”
“That is what he called them.”
Ethan watched her.
Claire's hands trembled.
“You're lying about something.”
She looked away.
“What?”
“I'm not stupid.”
“I never said you were.”
“Then don't treat me like I am.”
Claire stood.
“I can't do this right now.”
“Sit down.”
The sharpness stopped her.
She turned.
For a second the mask almost slipped.
Then she whispered, “You don't know what you're accusing me of.”
Ethan thought of the pool.
He could end it.
Tell her he'd heard every word.
He didn't.
Instead he said, “I'm accusing you of hiding things.”
Claire's eyes filled.
“So are you.”
She walked out.
Minutes later Ethan followed, but she was gone from the hallway.
He found the side door open.
Outside, Claire crossed the driveway toward the detached garage.
Ethan stayed in the shadows.
A second person emerged beside a parked SUV.
Noah.
Claire shoved something into his hands.
An envelope.
They argued too quietly for Ethan to hear.
Then Noah grabbed Claire's wrist.
She jerked free.
Ethan stepped forward.
Before he could reveal himself, Claire said something that carried across the driveway.
“I told you this wasn't supposed to happen to Lily.”
May you like
Noah answered.
“You're the one who brought Martin into this.”
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