Chapter 12 - The Empty Apartment
The police would not allow Claire to return to the apartment alone.
By 10:30 a.m., two detectives escorted her through the same doorway she had left less than eleven hours earlier.
The living room had changed.
The broken glass was gone.
The orchids were gone.
The blood had been cleaned from the floor.
The vase was gone.
Even the overturned chair had been returned to its place.
Claire stopped in the doorway.
"Someone cleaned it."
Detective Mara Ellis looked around.
"Did you authorize anyone?"
"No."
"Your husband?"
"I haven't spoken to him since the board meeting."
The second detective photographed the room.
Claire walked toward the side table where the orchid vase had stood.
There was a faint circular water mark on the stone.
Nothing else.
"The camera was here."
Mara nodded.
"Ms. Reed gave us a copy of the footage."
"The physical camera matters."
"It does."
Claire looked toward the hallway.
Matthew's closet doors were open.
Several suits were missing.
His passport drawer was empty.
"He's gone."
Mara checked the bedroom.
"Maybe."
Claire walked into Matthew's study.
The desk had been cleared.
The computer tower was gone.
Two framed photographs remained on the shelf.
One showed Claire and Matthew on their honeymoon in Italy.
The other showed Matthew shaking Richid's hand after joining Hale Meridian.
Claire turned the second photograph face down.
Mara watched her.
"Do you know where he would go?"
"No."
The answer embarrassed Claire.
She had been married to the man for two years and did not know where he went when he needed to disappear.
Then she remembered something.
"There is a storage room behind the wine wall."
Mara looked at her.
"A room?"
"Matthew told me it was climate-control equipment."
They went downstairs.
The wine room occupied one side of the apartment's lower level.
Claire pointed to a walnut panel behind the racks.
Mara examined it.
"No handle."
Claire looked around.
A keypad sat beneath the temperature controls.
She had never questioned it.
Matthew had always handled the wine inventory.
Mara called a forensic technician.
Twenty minutes later, the panel opened.
There was no climate-control equipment behind it.
There was a narrow office.
Claire stood in the doorway and felt her stomach turn.
The walls were covered with photographs.
Photographs of her.
Claire leaving her nonprofit office.
Claire meeting her father for lunch.
Claire entering her therapist's building.
Claire hugging her oldest friend, Sarah, outside a bookstore.
Some pictures were two years old.
Some were from before the wedding.
"Oh my God," Claire whispered.
Mara stepped beside her.
"Don't touch anything."
A calendar covered one wall.
Dates were marked with small notes.
DINNER WITH R.
THERAPY.
SARAH.
BOARD CHARITY EVENT.
MOTHER'S ANNIVERSARY.
Beside several dates were handwritten observations.
EMOTIONAL AFTER CALL WITH FATHER.
RESPONDS TO SILENCE.
WITHDRAWS WHEN ACCUSED OF OVERREACTING.
APOLOGY GIFTS EFFECTIVE.
Claire stared at the last line.
Her knees felt weak.
White orchids.
Again and again.
Not affection.
A method.
Mara's voice softened.
"Claire, you can step outside."
"No."
"You don't have to see this."
"Yes, I do."
Claire walked farther into the room.
A locked metal cabinet stood beneath the desk.
The forensic technician opened it.
Inside were folders labeled with names.
RICHID.
NAOMI.
JULIAN.
REBECCA.
ELEANOR.
Claire pointed to the last one.
"Open that."
Mara put on gloves and removed the folder.
Inside were copies of Eleanor Hale's medical records, trust drafts, and old letters.
At the bottom was a small digital recorder.
A label had been taped to it.
E.H. - PRIVATE - 8 YEARS.
Claire stared at the recorder.
"Can we play it?"
Mara examined it.
"After forensics images the device."
Claire felt frustrated, then caught herself.
This time she would not destroy evidence because she was desperate for answers.
She nodded.
Mara continued searching.
A burner phone sat in the back of the cabinet.
It powered on.
The last message thread was with a contact saved only as R.L.
Claire thought of Rebecca Lane.
Mara opened the thread.
The first visible message was from six weeks earlier.
R.L.: SHE STILL DOESN'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE.
Matthew: SHE KNOWS ENOUGH.
R.L.: NO. SHE KNOWS THE STORY YOU GAVE HER.
Matthew: THAT'S ALL SHE NEEDS UNTIL THE VOTE.
Claire's heart pounded.
Mara scrolled.
Another message appeared.
R.L.: IF YOU HURT HER, I'M OUT.
Matthew: I WON'T.
R.L.: YOU SAID THAT ABOUT THE THERAPIST TOO.
Claire frowned.
"What happened to my therapist?"
Mara looked at her.
"You stopped seeing one?"
"She moved practices suddenly."
Mara continued scrolling.
A later message read:
MATTHEW: I MADE THE COMPLAINT.
R.L.: THAT WASN'T THE PLAN.
MATTHEW: SHE WAS PUTTING IDEAS IN CLAIRE'S HEAD.
Claire's hand covered her mouth.
Matthew had filed a professional complaint against her therapist.
The woman had not abandoned Claire.
Matthew had pushed her out.
The burner phone buzzed unexpectedly.
Everyone froze.
A new message appeared from R.L.
YOU FOUND THE ROOM.
Claire stared at the screen.
Another message followed.
GOOD.
Mara immediately began tracing procedures with the technician.
A third message appeared.
NOW PLAY YOUR MOTHER'S RECORDING BEFORE RICHID GETS THERE.
Claire looked toward the apartment entrance.
As if summoned by the words, the front door opened upstairs.
Richid's voice echoed down the hall.
"Claire?"
Mara looked at her.
May you like
Claire looked at the recorder.
And for the first time, she wondered whether her father was coming to protect her or to stop her from hearing the truth.
