Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO DIEDThe photograph felt cold in Claire's hand.
Her sister, Emily, stood beside Julian.
Both were smiling.
Neither looked frightened.
Neither looked like they were standing beside someone they distrusted.
Marcus studied the image.
“This was taken recently.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
She pointed at Julian.
“That jacket.”
Julian didn't answer.
“She died eight years ago,” Marcus said.
Claire stared at the photograph.
“She disappeared.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
Claire's hands trembled.
“Her car was found near the river.”
Marcus remembered.
There had been a search.
Three days.
Boats.
Police divers.
Nothing.
Emily had been declared presumed dead six months later.
Claire had spent years believing she had failed her sister.
Until now.
Officer Davis took the photograph.
“When was the last time you spoke to Emily?”
“Three days before she disappeared.”
“And Julian?”
Claire looked at him.
“Julian said she called him the night before.”
Julian finally spoke.
“She did.”
Claire's eyes widened.
“You told me she was hallucinating.”
“You were grieving.”
“No.”
Claire stepped forward.
“You told me she was unstable.”
Julian's expression remained unreadable.
“You needed someone to blame.”
Officer Davis asked, “Did you know Emily before she disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“How well?”
Julian shrugged.
“She was Claire's sister.”
“That's not an answer.”
Julian looked toward the camera.
“You already decided I'm guilty.”
Davis said nothing.
The officers searched the rest of the room.
The red folder contained bank statements.
Property records.
Photocopies of passports.
And a handwritten ledger.
Marcus opened it.
Names had been listed down the left side.
Dates on the right.
Dollar amounts beside each one.
At the bottom of the last page was one sentence:
THE MONEY WAS NEVER MEANT TO STAY IN THE TRUST.
Claire recognized the handwriting.
“Emily.”
Marcus looked at her.
“You're sure?”
“I know my sister's handwriting.”
Julian suddenly charged toward the folder.
Officer Davis grabbed him.
“Back away!”
Julian struggled.
“You don't understand what that evidence means!”
Davis restrained him.
“What does it mean?”
Julian stopped fighting.
Nothing.
Marcus looked at Claire.
“He knows.”
Claire nodded.
Then Lily tugged at her mother's sleeve.
“Mommy.”
“What?”
“I saw that lady before.”
Claire looked down.
“What lady?”
“The woman in the picture.”
Marcus froze.
“Where?”
“In Daddy's office.”
Julian stared at Lily.
“You've never been in my office.”
Lily shook her head.
“Yes, I have.”
“When?”
“After midnight.”
Claire knelt.
“Tell me what happened.”
Lily looked at Julian.
“Daddy was talking to her.”
Marcus felt his stomach tighten.
“What did she look like?”
“Like the picture.”
Claire covered her mouth.
“Lily…”
“She was crying.”
Julian's face changed.
“And she told Daddy she wanted her money back.”
No one moved.
Officer Davis said quietly:
“When was this?”
Lily thought.
“Before my birthday.”
Claire immediately calculated.
Two months earlier.
Marcus looked at Julian.
“You told Claire Emily was dead.”
Julian said nothing.
Davis asked Lily, “Where did the woman go?”
Lily pointed upstairs.
“She went into Daddy's secret room.”
Marcus glanced toward Julian's office.
“What secret room?”
Lily raised one finger.
“Behind the bookshelf.”
Julian's eyes widened.
Officer Davis immediately ordered the officers upstairs.
Julian struggled again.
“No!”
Davis looked at him.
“Why not?”
“Because that room doesn't exist.”
Lily whispered:
“It does.”
The officers entered Julian's office.
A bookshelf covered the far wall.
Rows of books.
Family portraits.
A bronze clock.
Marcus walked over and ran his fingers along the wood.
“Move.”
An officer pushed the bookshelf.
It didn't move.
Then Lily spoke from the doorway.
“Push the blue book.”
Marcus found it.
A click sounded.
The entire bookshelf shifted inward.
Everyone stared.
Behind it was a narrow doorway.
Julian closed his eyes.
Claire stared at her husband.
“You built a room inside our house.”
Julian whispered:
“You were never supposed to find it.”
Marcus reached for the door.
Then he stopped.
Because from behind it came a sound.
Three slow knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Someone was inside.
May you like
And then a woman's voice whispered:
“Claire?”
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