Chapter 7
Claire called Thomas.
No disguise.
No assistant voice.
No hesitation.
He answered immediately.
“Claire.”
She looked at Julian.
Victoria.
Gabriel.
All listening.
“You knew about the envelope.”
Silence.
Then Thomas sighed.
“Where are you?”
“Answer.”
“Claire.”
“You knew.”
His voice changed.
Soft.
Uncle.
The one that had comforted her as a child.
“Andrew was afraid.”
“So were we all.”
Claire closed her eyes.
There it was.
He wanted memory.
Not fact.
“Did you order Julian’s crash?”
Thomas said nothing.
Claire continued.
“Did Gabriel beat Andrew before it?”
Silence.
“Did you use me to keep Andrew quiet?”
Thomas’s voice hardened.
“Your brother became reckless.”
Claire’s eyes opened.
“Answer.”
“He endangered you.”
There.
Blame the victim.
Andrew’s fear had been created by Thomas.
Then used against him.
Thomas continued.
“If he had listened, none of this would have happened.”
Victoria smiled faintly.
Same language.
Different family.
Claire felt sick.
Thomas said:
“You have no idea what Andrew was playing with.”
“Then tell me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re emotional.”
Claire almost laughed.
Julian looked at her.
Same mechanism.
Disqualify the person.
Then keep control.
Thomas continued:
“Bring me the envelope.”
“No.”
His voice sharpened.
“Claire.”
“No.”
Pause.
“You think Julian protects you?”
Claire looked at him.
Thomas continued.
“He failed Andrew.”
“No.”
Silence.
“I heard the tape.”
Thomas stopped.
Claire continued.
“He saved Andrew.”
Thomas’s breathing changed.
“You don’t understand.”
“No.”
“I understand enough.”
Then Thomas made his mistake.
“Did you find the second photograph?”
Everyone in the room froze.
Claire looked down at the envelope.
Only one photograph.
Andrew and Julian.
“What second photograph?”
Thomas said nothing.
Too late.
Claire smiled faintly.
“Thank you.”
She ended the call.
Victoria’s expression had changed.
Gabriel looked toward the envelope.
Julian saw.
“Where?”
Claire examined the wet paper again.
Double lining.
Andrew always did that with valuables.
Her hands moved carefully.
A second photograph slid free.
Six people.
Andrew.
Julian.
Thomas Bennett.
Gabriel.
Victoria.
And one more woman.
Claire stared.
Her mother.
Elizabeth Bennett.
Dead nine years.
Claire’s breathing stopped.
Victoria whispered:
“Oh.”
Claire looked at her.
“You knew her.”
Victoria said nothing.
Claire stood.
“YOU KNEW HER.”
Julian looked at the photograph.
He had never seen it.
Gabriel smiled.
For the first time that night, he possessed a secret no one else understood.
Claire turned.
He leaned back.
“Your brother wasn’t the first Bennett to investigate us.”
May you like
Then crueler:
“Your mother just died before she could finish.”
