Chapter 4 - CLAIRE'S LAST WARNINGClaire's voice echoed through the hidden room.
Graham could barely move.
The recording was old.
Her voice was softer than he remembered.
Tired.
But certain.
"Graham, I don't know whether you'll ever hear this."
A click.
Then Claire continued.
"I hope you don't."
Graham looked at Maisie.
His daughter was staring at the speaker.
"Mommy?"
Graham crouched beside her.
"Yes."
She smiled through tears.
"I miss her."
Graham pressed his forehead against hers.
"I do too."
The recording continued.
"If you're hearing this, then someone has tried to use my daughter."
Sloane's face tightened.
Claire said:
"There are people who understand how valuable Maisie's trust is. I discovered that one of them is connected to Haven Ridge."
Graham looked at the papers.
"Do not let anyone convince you that Maisie is unstable."
Maisie moved closer to him.
Claire's voice broke.
"She's not. She is afraid because she knows when people are lying to her."
Graham looked at Sloane.
Sloane looked away.
Claire continued.
"The first lie will be about her behavior."
"The second will be about your signature."
"The third will be about me."
Graham froze.
The third lie.
About Claire.
"What does that mean?" he whispered.
The recording continued.
"They will tell you I was sick."
"They will say grief changed me."
"They may even say I became obsessed with protecting Maisie."
A pause.
"But before I died, I discovered something that frightened me more than any of it."
The recording crackled.
"A death certificate can be changed."
Graham's blood ran cold.
He looked at Sloane.
She looked terrified now.
Claire's voice came again.
"If I die unexpectedly, check the original medical records."
Graham's knees weakened.
His wife's official cause of death had been cardiac arrest.
Sudden.
Unexpected.
The doctors had called it natural.
But Claire had left instructions to inspect the original records.
Sloane suddenly lunged toward the recording system.
Graham grabbed her wrist.
"Don't."
"Let go."
"Why?"
"Because this is private."
"My dead wife left it for me."
"You don't know what she was talking about."
"Neither do you."
Sloane pulled free.
"Listen to me, Graham. Claire was unstable."
Graham slapped his palm against the desk.
"Stop saying that."
Sloane's voice rose.
"She accused everyone around her!"
"Everyone?"
"Doctors. Lawyers. Staff. Me."
"Why you?"
Sloane hesitated.
"Because she was jealous."
Graham stared.
"You expect me to believe my dead wife was jealous of the woman I'm about to marry?"
"She thought I was replacing her."
"You barely knew her."
"I knew enough."
The recording clicked.
Claire was speaking again.
"There is one person you must not confront directly."
Graham leaned closer.
"Who?"
Claire said:
"Marcus Bell."
Graham's face changed.
His attorney.
The man who had prepared his wedding documents.
The man who had advised him about the trust.
The man who had been "attending the wedding."
Claire continued.
"Marcus knows how the signatures were created."
A loud crack sounded in the recording.
Then silence.
Graham looked at Sloane.
"Where is Marcus?"
She didn't answer.
He called his office again.
This time someone picked up.
"Mr. Grant?"
"Where is Marcus Bell?"
The receptionist hesitated.
"He left this morning."
"Where?"
"We don't know."
"Check his calendar."
A few seconds passed.
"He had a meeting at Haven Ridge."
Graham closed his eyes.
The pieces were falling into place.
Then a guard rushed into the room.
"Mr. Grant."
"What?"
"We checked the security footage from your house."
"And?"
"There are several late-night entries."
"Who?"
"Ms. Mercer."
Graham looked at Sloane.
She shook her head.
"I had a key."
"You entered my house at 2:13 a.m."
"I was checking on Maisie."
"You entered her bedroom?"
Sloane said nothing.
"Why?"
She finally replied.
"Because she was hiding something."
"What?"
"The same thing Claire hid."
Graham stared.
"What?"
Sloane looked at Maisie.
"The blue box."
Graham's eyes narrowed.
"You searched for it."
Sloane nodded.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Claire shouldn't have kept it."
"What was inside?"
Sloane took a breath.
"Evidence."
"What evidence?"
She reached into her wedding dress.
Slowly.
She pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Graham stared.
It was an autopsy report.
Not Claire's.
Maisie's.
Graham's heart stopped.
"What is that?"
May you like
Sloane whispered:
"Proof that your daughter was never supposed to exist."
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