Chapter 7 - The Woman Who Lied to UsEvan's attorney was named Robert Sloan.
He was sixty-three, respected, wealthy, and had represented Evan for years.
When police questioned him, he claimed his SUV had been stolen.
Convenient.
Too convenient.
Marcus didn't believe him.
Neither did I.
But there was something worse.
Claire appeared at the police station.
She looked terrified.
She asked for me privately.
“I need to tell you something.”
Daniel stayed outside.
I followed her into an empty interview room.
Claire sat across from me.
“I was there.”
“Where?”
“The hospital.”
My heart pounded.
“When?”
“The night before your mother's stroke.”
“What happened?”
Claire started crying.
“Evan told me everything.”
“What everything?”
“That he was going to transfer the house.”
“Why?”
“He said it wasn't about the money.”
I leaned forward.
“Then what was it about?”
Claire whispered:
“The basement.”
I stared at her.
“He said your mother had something hidden there.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
“Who's Peter Lang?”
Claire's face went white.
“You know him?”
“You do.”
She looked down.
“He came to our house six months ago.”
“Why?”
“To threaten Evan.”
“What did he want?”
Claire hesitated.
“Evan owed someone money.”
“How much?”
“Not money.”
That sentence made no sense.
“What do you mean?”
Claire looked at me.
“He owed them a favor.”
“What favor?”
“To identify vulnerable homeowners.”
I felt sick.
“He chose Mom.”
Claire nodded.
“Evan gave them names.”
“How many?”
“Twenty-three.”
The same number.
My heart raced.
“Why would he do this?”
“He said he was desperate.”
“For what?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Then she whispered:
“But your mother wasn't his first choice.”
“What?”
“He originally chose someone else.”
“Who?”
Claire looked at the door.
Then leaned closer.
“His own mother.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What?”
“He wanted your grandmother's property.”
“My grandmother has been dead for ten years.”
“Exactly.”
Claire's hands shook.
“That's why the network trusted him.”
I stared at her.
“They knew he had done this before.”
“But Mom?”
“She found out.”
“What did she find?”
Claire swallowed.
“Your mother's original title records.”
I thought about the hidden basement.
The old foundation.
The recorder.
Then Claire gave me the final piece.
“Evan wasn't trying to steal the house.”
“Then what?”
“He was trying to retrieve what your mother had hidden.”
“Retrieve what?”
Claire looked directly into my eyes.
“A list.”
“What list?”
“The original list of every person involved in Project Hollow.”
My heart stopped.
“Names?”
“Names, accounts, properties, everything.”
“Where is it?”
Claire shook her head.
“Your mother never told Evan.”
“Then why take the house?”
“Because she was the last person they believed still had it.”
I stood.
“So where did Evan take her?”
Claire began crying again.
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
“I swear.”
Then her phone buzzed.
She looked at the screen.
Her face drained of color.
I grabbed it.
One message.
You told them too much.
Then another.
Now you both become liabilities.
Claire looked at me.
“What do I do?”
Before I could answer, the interview-room lights went out.
A crash came from the hallway.
Then shouting.
Someone had triggered the fire alarm.
Police rushed past us.
And in the confusion, Claire disappeared.
Ten minutes later, they found her abandoned car outside.
Her phone was still inside.
So was her purse.
But Claire was gone.
Daniel ran toward me.
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
Then Marcus appeared.
He looked furious.
“We have a bigger problem.”
“What?”
He handed me a photograph.
It showed Mom.
Alive.
Bound to a chair.
The photo had been taken minutes earlier.
On the back was a handwritten message.
Bring me the list.
May you like
And beneath it:
You have twelve hours.
