Chapter 5 - A DEAD WOMAN'S STAMP
For several seconds, nobody in the hospital room moved.
The name Rebecca Sloan remained enlarged on Sam Vale's laptop screen beneath a notary seal dated four years after her death.
I read the date again because my mind refused to accept it.
April 14, 2023.
Rebecca Hayes had died in September 2019.
She had been buried in a family cemetery outside Hartford beneath a granite marker Matthew selected himself.
I had stood beside him at the funeral while he cried into my shoulder.
Now her name sat beneath a document that had stripped me of millions of dollars in founder equity.
"Could it be another Rebecca Sloan?"
Sam looked at me.
"Not with that commission number."
Dad folded his arms.
"You checked already?"
"I checked while Patricia was talking."
That was Sam.
He could turn suspicion into documentation before most people found a pen.
"The commission belonged to Matthew's mother."
Mom stared at the screen.
"She stopped practicing as a notary years before she died."
I looked at her.
"You knew her?"
"Socially."
My mother chose the word with care.
"Before you married Matthew, we attended the same museum board dinners."
"You never told me."
"You weren't interested in anything we knew about the Hayes family."
There was no accusation in her voice.
That made the truth harder to avoid.
At twenty-six, any concern about Matthew had sounded like snobbery to me.
I had confused opposition with disrespect.
I had treated every warning as proof that our love was important enough to threaten people.
Now I was lying in a hospital bed looking at evidence that someone had used a dead woman's notary commission to steal my company shares.
Sam closed the document.
"We need the original paper copy."
"Where would it be?"
"Corporate records, outside counsel, or Matthew's personal files."
Dad's phone buzzed.
He answered.
"Yes."
He listened.
"Do not confront him."
Another pause.
"Photograph everything and leave."
He hung up.
"Who was that?"
"Henderson."
"Where is he?"
"Your penthouse."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Police finished their initial sweep of the common rooms."
"And?"
Dad looked at Sam.
"Thomas found a locked document cabinet in Matthew's office."
"That's not unusual."
"It is unusual that the cabinet was empty except for a paper shredder that was still warm."
I stared at him.
"Matthew came back?"
"Building records show his key was disabled before he reached the elevator."
"Then who used the shredder?"
Dad's expression answered before he did.
Someone else had access.
"The housekeeper?"
"She left at six yesterday evening."
"Building staff?"
"No entry recorded."
Sam leaned forward.
"Smart lock?"
Dad nodded.
"NexusCore prototype."
My skin prickled.
"Remote access."
"Possibly."
I remembered Matthew tapping his phone while lights changed around the apartment.
I remembered him laughing that one day NexusCore would know what people needed before they asked.
At the time, it sounded like the usual founder arrogance.
Now I wondered how much of our home had ever belonged to us.
"Can the shredder contents be recovered?"
"Henderson bagged them."
Sam looked pleased.
"I knew I liked that man."
Dad ignored him.
"Police are taking custody."
A nurse entered to check my IV.
We fell silent while she worked.
She glanced at the cluster of lawyers and phones around my bed.
"Try to let her rest."
My mother gave the men a look that suggested the nurse had just been promoted to commanding officer.
"You heard her."
Dad reluctantly stepped into the hall with Sam.
Mom stayed.
For twenty minutes, she said nothing about Matthew.
She told me the hydrangeas at the Greenwich house had finally survived a winter.
She told me my old bedroom still had the stupid brass stars I glued to the ceiling when I was thirteen.
She told me Dad secretly watched the cooking show I used to mock him for hating.
Then she reached into her handbag and placed a small velvet box on the bed.
I recognized it instantly.
My grandmother's sapphire ring.
I had left it on my dresser the night I moved out.
"Why do you have that?"
"Because you forgot it."
"Seven years ago."
"Yes."
"You carried it around?"
Mom looked offended.
"Of course not."
Then she looked away.
"Only on holidays."
My eyes filled.
"Mom."
"Don't start."
Her own eyes were wet.
"I am trying very hard to be angry at you for at least another twenty-four hours."
I laughed softly.
The door opened again.
Sam stepped inside alone.
His expression told me the break was over.
"Clare, Detective Ruiz is asking whether you'll authorize a forensic download of your old devices and cloud backups."
"Yes."
"There may be private marital material."
"I understand."
"Emails, photographs, tax records, messages."
"Sam."
"Yes?"
"Give them everything."
He studied me.
Then nodded.
"Good."
"What happened?"
"Matthew surrendered at the Twenty-Third Precinct twenty minutes ago."
My chest tightened.
"Is he arrested?"
"He was processed on assault-related charges pending the district attorney's review."
"Will he stay in jail?"
"Probably not for long."
The answer made something hot twist in my stomach.
"After the video?"
"Evidence does not erase procedure."
"So he walks out?"
"He may be arraigned and released with conditions."
Mom muttered something under her breath.
Sam continued.
"The more immediate issue is what happened before he surrendered."
"What?"
"He issued instructions to NexusCore's communications team."
"He's suspended."
"He used a private account."
Sam opened his phone.
A headline filled the screen.
NEXUSCORE CEO DENIES ABUSE CLAIMS AS FAMILY FEUD THREATENS $8.4 BILLION COMPANY.
I stared at the number.
Eight point four billion.
That was what the market had decided Matthew was worth yesterday.
The article quoted an unnamed source close to him.
The source described me as emotionally volatile.
Estranged from my family.
Jealous of Matthew's demanding professional relationships.
The phrase demanding professional relationships made me nauseous.
"They are making Lauren sound like work."
"For now."
"And me sound crazy."
"For now."
Sam scrolled.
Another sentence appeared.
According to the source, Clare Hayes had recently threatened to involve her billionaire father in private marital disputes after learning that Mr. Hayes intended to restructure certain family assets.
"Restructure family assets?"
I looked at Sam.
"What does that mean?"
"We are trying to find out."
Dad came back into the room.
"We found out."
He tossed a faxed document onto the tray.
PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.
My lungs emptied.
Matthew had filed for divorce at 5:12 that morning.
Less than six hours after leaving me bleeding on the floor.
I read the first page.
He requested exclusive use of the penthouse.
Protection of separate business assets.
Preservation of his NexusCore shares.
Temporary restrictions preventing me from transferring, encumbering, disclosing, or disposing of confidential marital or corporate information.
"He wants to silence me."
Sam nodded.
"That's the purpose."
Dad's voice was quiet.
"He is trying to turn a criminal investigation into a divorce fight."
I kept reading.
Then I reached paragraph seventeen.
My heart stopped.
Petitioner alleges that Respondent may have unauthorized access to proprietary company information and confidential financial materials belonging solely to Petitioner and NexusCore Systems, Inc.
"Unauthorized access?"
I looked at Dad.
"I haven't been inside a NexusCore system in years."
"We know."
"Then why include this?"
Sam and Dad exchanged a look.
I hated when men did that around me.
"Say it."
Sam sat down.
"Because if investigators find confidential NexusCore records in your possession, Matthew wants a legal theory ready for why you should not have them."
"But I don't have any."
Sam's expression remained grave.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
Then I remembered something.
The old silver laptop.
Seven years earlier, I had used it for everything.
Investor models.
Pitch decks.
Founder budgets.
Early employee contracts.
Matthew called it my lucky machine.
When I moved into the penthouse, I packed it inside a cedar storage chest with college notebooks and old photographs.
I had not opened the chest in years.
"There is one old laptop."
Dad became still.
"Where?"
"At the penthouse."
Sam stood immediately.
"Call Henderson."
Dad was already dialing.
No answer.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Then his phone rang from a different number.
He answered.
"Thomas?"
Static crackled through the speaker.
A younger security officer spoke.
"Mr. Sterling, we have a problem."
Dad's face changed.
"Where is Henderson?"
"In the service corridor."
"Why?"
"Someone triggered the fire suppression system in the storage rooms."
My pulse jumped.
"The cedar chest."
Dad looked at me.
"What?"
"My laptop is in the storage room."
The officer continued through the phone.
"Sir, three storage lockers were flooded before we shut the valve."
Dad asked the only question that mattered.
"Which lockers?"
May you like
The answer arrived after a long pause.
"Mrs. Hayes's was one of them."
