Chapter 4 - Someone Inside the House
Claire did not go home.
Neither did Grant.
Within twenty minutes, Aquila security had sealed both their primary residence and Grant’s Manhattan apartment.
The second photograph showed the bedroom Claire and Grant had shared for seven years.
The picture had been taken from beside the closet.
The bed was visible.
The framed wedding photograph on the nightstand.
Claire’s mother’s antique jewelry box.
And the open drawer where Claire kept personal documents.
Someone had entered the house.
Not hacked a camera.
Not used an old photograph.
The digital clock beside the bed showed 7:18 p.m.
Twelve minutes before the message arrived.
Samuel insisted Claire use the secure executive suite inside Aquila’s Chicago operations center.
Grant protested.
Claire ignored him.
He followed anyway.
At 8:04 p.m., they entered a glass-walled conference room overlooking the airline’s night operations floor.
Aircraft moved across screens.
Maps glowed on walls.
Hundreds of employees below them continued coordinating flights without knowing the woman standing upstairs had inherited control of their company three hours earlier.
Claire removed her ivory coat.
The black funeral dress beneath it suddenly made the entire day feel real again.
She sat.
For the first time since the cemetery, her hands began to shake.
Samuel saw.
He quietly moved a glass of water toward her.
Claire held it but did not drink.
“Tell me everything.”
Samuel sat across from her.
Grant remained standing.
Adrian had been escorted into a separate secure room for questioning.
Samuel opened a file.
“Your mother became suspicious after one of our auditors found duplicate maintenance vendor IDs.”
“When?”
“Last February.”
“Why wasn’t law enforcement brought in immediately?”
“We didn’t know whether the records were corrupted or manipulated.”
“And Adrian?”
“Eleanor contacted him through an intermediary.”
Claire leaned back.
“After nine years.”
“Yes.”
“Because she framed him.”
Samuel’s expression tightened.
“She protected him.”
“She let the world think he was a thief.”
“She paid his family. Gave him a new identity.”
“That doesn’t erase what she did.”
“No.”
Claire appreciated the answer.
Grant finally sat.
“Martin Bell has disappeared.”
Claire looked at him.
“How?”
“My people went to his apartment.”
“And?”
“Empty.”
Samuel asked, “Passport activity?”
“We’re checking.”
Claire said, “Freeze every Aquila-linked account that intersects with Holloway Capital.”
Grant’s head snapped up.
“You can’t freeze my firm.”
“I can freeze our money.”
“That could trigger a liquidity crisis.”
“Then perhaps your CFO should have thought of that before three point eight billion dollars moved through your accounts.”
Grant stared at her.
“This isn’t just my company. Hundreds of employees work there.”
Claire’s expression softened slightly.
“I know.”
“Then don’t punish them for Martin.”
“I’m not.”
She looked at Samuel.
“Isolate only the accounts directly connected to Orion. No broad freeze without evidence.”
Samuel nodded.
Grant exhaled.
“Thank you.”
Claire looked at him.
“That was not for you.”
Silence.
Her phone rang.
Aquila security.
Claire answered on speaker.
“Ms. Mercer, we found evidence of entry at your residence.”
“What kind?”
“No forced access.”
Grant frowned.
“So whoever entered had a key?”
“Or a code.”
Claire looked at Grant.
Their house had four active access codes.
Hers.
Grant’s.
The housekeeper’s.
And Martin’s emergency code.
Claire remembered why.
Martin sometimes checked on the property when Grant and Claire traveled.
Grant closed his eyes.
“Martin.”
Security continued.
“Nothing obvious appears stolen.”
Claire looked at the photograph on her phone.
“What drawer was opened?”
“Your personal document drawer.”
“What was inside?”
Grant answered before security could.
“Passports. Estate papers. Insurance.”
Claire looked at him.
“And?”
He hesitated.
“Our prenuptial agreement.”
Claire went still.
Samuel glanced between them.
“Why would anyone care about that?”
Grant looked uncomfortable.
Claire understood before he answered.
“The prenup contains a disclosure schedule.”
Samuel frowned.
“What disclosure?”
“Assets I owned before marriage.”
Grant stared at the table.
“And family interests.”
Samuel stood.
“Does it name Aquila?”
“No,” Claire said. “My mother’s lawyers were careful.”
“But?”
“It names Mercer Aviation Trust.”
Samuel swore.
Grant looked at Claire.
“I never read the appendix closely.”
She almost laughed.
That was very Grant.
He had signed a prenup after ensuring his own assets were protected.
He assumed Claire’s side contained old family trusts.
He had never bothered studying them.
Samuel said, “If Martin found that document…”
“He would know Claire had a connection to the voting trust,” Grant finished.
Claire’s phone rang again.
This time it was her estate attorney.
“Claire.”
“Richard.”
“I need you to come to the probate office tomorrow morning.”
“Why?”
A pause.
“There’s a supplemental document.”
Her pulse accelerated.
“What document?”
“Your mother filed it forty-eight hours before she died.”
Samuel leaned forward.
“What does it say?”
Richard hesitated.
“I can’t discuss it by phone.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Richard, someone broke into my house tonight.”
Silence.
“Then don’t come here.”
“Why?”
“Because I think they were looking for the same document.”
Everyone in the room went still.
Claire sat straighter.
“How would they know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who else knew?”
“Your mother. Me. One witness.”
“Who?”
Richard took a breath.
“Martin Bell.”
Grant shot to his feet.
“What?”
Claire’s skin prickled.
“Why would Martin witness my mother’s document?”
“He was at the hospital.”
Grant shook his head.
“No. He told me he was in Boston.”
Richard continued.
“Eleanor requested him specifically.”
Claire looked at Samuel.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“What document?”
Richard’s voice became quieter.
“A codicil.”
“To her will?”
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
“I can’t tell you on an unsecured line.”
Claire gripped the phone.
“Richard.”
Another pause.
“It concerns Grant.”
Grant stopped moving.
Claire looked at him.
“What about him?”
Richard’s answer never came.
A sharp sound cut through the call.
Glass breaking.
Then Richard gasped.
Claire stood.
“Richard?”
No answer.
“Richard!”
A crash.
Someone breathing.
Then the line went dead.
Samuel shouted for security.
Grant grabbed his coat.
“I’m going.”
Claire blocked him.
“No.”
“My name is in that document.”
“That is exactly why you’re not going.”
Grant stared at her.
“You think I had something to do with this?”
“I don’t know.”
His expression hardened.
“Eleven years.”
Claire’s voice broke for the first time.
“Stop saying that like eleven years protected me from what you did today.”
Grant went silent.
Claire turned away.
Samuel dispatched local security and police.
For seven minutes, they waited.
Claire paced.
The room felt smaller with each passing second.
Finally, Samuel’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face darkened.
“What?”
Claire stopped.
Samuel listened.
Then looked at her.
“Richard is alive.”
She exhaled.
“Thank God.”
“He was hit from behind.”
“What was taken?”
Samuel listened again.
His eyes moved to Grant.
“The supplemental will.”
Grant went pale.
Claire knew there was more.
“What?”
Samuel ended the call.
“The attacker left something behind.”
“What?”
“A key card.”
“To where?”
Samuel looked at Grant.
“Holloway Capital.”
Grant stared.
“That proves nothing.”
Claire approached him.
“Who has those cards?”
“Hundreds of employees.”
“Executive access?”
Grant hesitated.
“Maybe twenty.”
“Martin?”
“Yes.”
Claire’s phone vibrated.
Another unknown message.
No photograph this time.
Only text.
ASK YOUR HUSBAND WHERE HE WAS AT 2:13 A.M. LAST TUESDAY.
Claire read it twice.
Grant saw her face.
“What?”
She looked at him.
“Where were you at 2:13 last Tuesday morning?”
Grant froze.
Claire felt the room change.
“Answer me.”
His eyes moved toward Samuel.
Then back to Claire.
“I wasn’t with Vanessa.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Grant rubbed his jaw.
“I was at the hospital.”
Claire’s blood turned cold.
“My mother’s hospital?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Grant did not answer.
“Grant.”
He looked at her.
“Your mother called me.”
Claire stared.
“When?”
“After midnight.”
“You told me you hadn’t spoken to her in weeks.”
“I lied.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“What did she want?”
Grant hesitated.
“She told me she knew.”
“Knew what?”
Grant looked at the locked conference-room door.
Then at Claire.
“She knew who was stealing from Aquila.”
Claire stepped closer.
“Who?”
Before Grant could answer, the conference-room lights went out.
May you like
The electronic lock clicked.
Then the door opened from the outside.
