Chapter 8: Claire Makes Her Move
Warren Gould had left the property two days before Dominic returned — a fact Marcus confirmed by checking the gate log, which recorded every vehicle entry and exit by plate number.
He had visited twice in the preceding month.
Both times logged under a different name.
Petra Holloway took that information without visible reaction and made a note.
Claire was a different matter.
She had not left the conservatory when the officer went to find her.
She had, however, made three phone calls in the forty minutes between Dominic leaving the room and Raines arriving.
Her phone records, obtained within the hour through channels Petra Holloway declined to specify, showed two calls to a number registered to a prepaid device and one call to a law firm in the city — not a criminal defense firm.
An estate attorney.
"She was trying to move assets," Petra said.
She was standing in Dominic's office, the door closed, Raines beside her.
"The call to the estate attorney lasted eleven minutes.
We're pulling the firm's records now, but based on the timing, we believe she was attempting to accelerate a claim she'd already filed."
"What claim?" Dominic asked.
Petra opened her folio.
"Three weeks ago, Ms.
Whitmore filed a preliminary document with the probate court asserting a common-law spousal interest in a portion of your estate.
The filing was based on the argument that your engagement and cohabitation constituted a de facto marital arrangement under—"
"That has no legal standing."
"No.
It doesn't.
But it creates a paper trail that would have taken time to untangle, and time was apparently what she needed." Petra looked up from the folio.
"Mr.
Vale, we believe the original plan was not to harm Ms.
Carter permanently.
The intent appears to have been to keep her isolated long enough for Ms.
Whitmore to complete the asset filing and establish a legal foothold before you returned and Mia could speak to you.
The cellar was meant to be temporary."
The word temporary sat in the room for a moment.
"Three days," Dominic said.
"Yes."
"With her four-year-old daughter upstairs."
Petra didn't answer that.
There was no answer to give.
Raines spoke instead.
"We're bringing Ms.
Whitmore in now.
She's been cooperative on the surface, but she asked for an attorney approximately twenty minutes ago.
The estate attorney she called is not a criminal defense lawyer, which tells us she still believes this is primarily a financial matter."
"She's wrong," Dominic said.
"Yes," Raines said.
"She is."
They brought Claire through the entrance hall ten minutes later.
She was dressed precisely, her coat buttoned, her bag over one arm — the posture of someone leaving for an appointment, not being escorted by police.
She looked at Dominic as she passed.
"You're making a mistake," she said.
Her voice was even.
Controlled.
The composure had reassembled itself almost completely.
"Whatever those recordings say, there is context you don't have.
I will explain everything.
My attorney will explain everything.
This is not what it looks like."
"Claire." Dominic said it quietly.
She stopped.
"Harper asked me this morning if her mommy was going to be okay." He looked at her without anger, without heat.
Just directly.
"She's four years old.
She spent three nights alone in this house not knowing if her mother was alive.
That is what it looks like."
Claire's composure held for exactly two more seconds.
Then she turned and walked out the front door.
The officer followed.
The door closed.
Dominic stood in the entrance hall alone.
The house was very quiet.
Somewhere above him, he could hear the faint sound of Harper's voice — awake now, talking to Mia in the low, continuous way children talk when they are making sure someone is still there.
May you like
He stood and listened to it for a moment.
Then he went upstairs.
