Chapter 10 - The Night Rebecca Followed Anne
Rebecca did not deny being at the marina.
That was the first thing Claire noticed.
She denied everything around it.
“I drove there because Anne called me.”
Madison stared at her mother.
“You told us you were in Richmond.”
“I was supposed to be.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Rebecca’s mouth tightened.
“You were a child.”
“I was seven.”
“Exactly.”
Madison looked at Claire.
For the first time in their lives, the older sister Claire had always been compared against looked completely unsure of where to stand.
Claire returned her attention to the green ledger.
Nathaniel had ordered everyone away from it until a forensic document examiner could make digital copies.
Charles hated that.
He stood near the bedroom door, furious and strangely powerless.
“The ledger is meaningless without context,” he said.
Claire looked at him.
“Then give us context.”
Charles said nothing.
Rebecca stepped forward.
“Anne was planning to leave Charles.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“We know.”
“She wanted information about the company.”
“So?”
“She asked me to meet her at the marina.”
Madison laughed in disbelief.
“Why would Dad’s wife ask Dad’s mistress for business information?”
Rebecca went pale.
Emily looked at Madison.
“Mom was his mistress?”
Madison closed her eyes.
“Apparently.”
Rebecca snapped, “Do not use that word.”
Claire almost admired the audacity.
“What word would you prefer?”
Rebecca looked at her.
Claire continued.
“The woman sleeping with a married man while his wife prepared to divorce him?”
“Claire.”
Charles’s warning tone returned.
She ignored him.
Rebecca’s face hardened.
“Your mother knew exactly what she was doing.”
“Meaning?”
“She used people.”
“Like Dominic?”
Rebecca glanced toward the hallway.
Dominic had remained downstairs after Nathaniel asked him not to contaminate the evidence scene.
The fact that he obeyed irritated Charles almost as much as his presence.
Rebecca lowered her voice.
“She used her family name when it suited her.”
“She had been running from that name most of her life.”
“That is what she told you.”
Claire stepped closer.
“What did she tell you at the marina?”
Rebecca looked at the ledger.
Then at Charles.
Claire saw it.
The glance was not affection.
It was permission.
Rebecca still wanted Charles to tell her how much truth she could release.
Charles gave nothing.
Rebecca exhaled.
“She said she had proof Charles had pledged assets without board approval.”
Claire nodded.
“That matches her letter.”
“She said Richard had helped him.”
Charles cut in.
“This is absurd.”
Rebecca rounded on him.
“You want me to keep protecting you now?”
The room changed.
Charles’s face went still.
Claire looked between them.
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“You dragged our daughters into this room and expected me to take every blow for you.”
“I did nothing of the sort.”
“You accused Claire of theft before breakfast.”
“Because she removed documents.”
“Documents that belonged to Anne.”
Charles stepped toward her.
Rebecca did not move.
For fifteen years, Claire had seen them function as a polished unit.
They hosted donors.
They finished each other’s sentences.
They corrected servants with the same gentle contempt.
Now the seams were opening.
Claire realized something obvious and dangerous.
People who built a lie together did not always agree on how to survive when it collapsed.
“What happened at the marina?” Claire asked again.
Rebecca looked at her.
“Anne wanted me to confirm that Richard was moving money through Bell Harbor Holdings.”
“Did you confirm it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Rebecca swallowed.
“Because Charles had lied to me too.”
Charles laughed.
“You were hardly innocent.”
“No.”
Rebecca’s voice sharpened.
“But I was not going to let you bury me with your debt.”
Claire felt the next piece slide into place.
Rebecca had not been competing with Anne for Charles.
She had been competing for control of a company Charles was quietly draining.
“You were helping my mother expose him.”
“For about forty-eight hours.”
“What changed?”
Rebecca’s eyes lowered.
Claire stepped closer.
“What changed?”
“Anne found out about us.”
Claire stared.
“She didn’t know before?”
“No.”
The answer somehow made it worse.
Anne had approached Rebecca believing she was a business ally.
Then discovered she was also sleeping with Charles.
“What did she do?”
Rebecca’s jaw tightened.
“She slapped me.”
Emily inhaled.
Rebecca continued.
“She told me I was pathetic.”
“She told me Charles would use me until I became inconvenient.”
“She told me I had mistaken being chosen for being valued.”
Claire felt a grim sadness.
It sounded exactly like Anne.
“What did you do?”
“I left.”
“Did you follow her afterward?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Charles called.”
Charles went rigid.
Rebecca looked directly at him now.
“He wanted to know where she was going.”
Madison whispered, “Dad?”
Charles shook his head.
“She is rewriting history.”
Rebecca laughed.
“No, Charles.”
“I am finally refusing to carry yours.”
Nathaniel held up one hand.
“Before this goes further, everyone should understand that these statements may be relevant to a death investigation.”
Charles’s face changed.
Rebecca’s did too.
Claire felt her own heartbeat.
For fifteen years, Anne’s death had been treated as tragedy.
For the first time, someone had used a different word.
Investigation.
Rebecca sat on the edge of Claire’s old bed.
“I followed Anne from the marina.”
“Where?” Claire asked.
“To the old East Harbor warehouse.”
Claire knew it.
Whitmore Freight had sold the property twelve years ago.
“What was she doing there?”
“She had a file stored in a private office.”
“Did you see it?”
“No.”
“Did Charles arrive?”
Rebecca’s eyes moved toward him.
“Yes.”
Madison turned toward her father.
“You were with Anne the night she died?”
Charles’s face had gone gray.
Rebecca continued.
“He arrived around nine forty.”
“Anne left around ten fifteen.”
“Charles came out a few minutes later.”
“What happened between them?” Claire asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You were there.”
“I stayed in my car.”
“Why?”
“Because Anne had just discovered the affair.”
Rebecca’s voice cracked for the first time.
“I was afraid of her.”
Claire almost laughed.
“You were afraid of my mother.”
“Yes.”
“She weighed one hundred and thirty pounds.”
“That is not what I meant.”
Rebecca looked down.
“I was afraid of what she knew.”
Claire stared at her.
Rebecca continued.
“Anne was going to report the loan fraud.”
“She had documents.”
“She told me if Charles did not resign, she would go to the board and the federal authorities.”
“Did he know?”
“Yes.”
The room fell silent.
Claire turned toward Charles.
“Did you threaten her?”
“No.”
Rebecca looked up.
“Yes.”
Charles snapped, “You were not inside.”
“No.”
Rebecca’s eyes hardened.
“But I heard you when you came outside.”
“What did he say?” Claire asked.
Rebecca looked at Charles.
Then she repeated the words.
“If you take that file to anyone, you will regret ever putting my name on a marriage license.”
Claire felt sick.
Charles shook his head.
“I was angry.”
“So you admit saying it?” Nathaniel asked.
Charles realized the trap.
“I admit nothing.”
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“Too late.”
Claire forced herself to breathe.
“What happened after my mother left?”
“Charles called Richard.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what?”
“I drove home.”
“Did you follow Anne?”
“No.”
Claire looked at the ledger again.
If Charles says I was alone, ask Rebecca why she followed me to the marina.
The note did not say Rebecca followed Anne after the marina.
It only proved Rebecca had seen events Charles later hid.
“What time did the police call?” Claire asked.
Charles’s face tightened.
Rebecca answered.
“A little after midnight.”
Anne’s car had gone through a barrier on an access road near the harbor and struck a concrete drainage wall.
Rain had been heavy.
The report said speed and poor visibility caused the crash.
Claire had read it once when she was nineteen.
She had never had the courage to read it again.
Now she would.
A loud crash sounded downstairs.
Everyone froze.
Then came Martha’s voice.
“Claire!”
Claire ran.
She reached the foyer and saw Martha standing near the open front door.
A man lay on the floor beside the entrance table.
Dominic’s security man had him pinned.
The intruder wore a delivery jacket.
A kitchen knife had fallen three feet away.
Martha’s handbag lay open.
Claire rushed toward her.
“What happened?”
“He tried to take my purse.”
“Why?”
Martha’s face was white.
“Because the bank key wasn’t the only thing I kept for Anne.”
Claire stared.
Martha reached inside her coat.
She removed a small cassette tape.
Across the label, in Anne’s handwriting, were four words.
May you like
For Claire when ready.
