Chapter 4 - The Gun on the StaircaseNobody moved.
Evan's hand trembled around the gun.
Not because he was afraid.
Because he was furious.
“Put the ledger down,” he repeated.
Marian stepped forward.
“Evan.”
“Mom, stay out of this.”
“This is my house.”
“You don't understand what you're doing.”
Marian's voice remained calm.
“Oh, I understand perfectly.”
Evan's eyes shifted to me.
“You've been recording me.”
“Yes.”
“You've been working with my mother.”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
“You have no idea how stupid you've been.”
My heart hammered.
The gun pointed toward the floor.
But that didn't make it less terrifying.
Paige stepped between us.
“Evan, put it down.”
He looked at her.
“You're the one who gave them the key?”
Paige shook her head.
“No.”
“Liar.”
“She didn't.”
I hadn't expected myself to speak.
Evan looked at me.
“You really think you can destroy me?”
“No.”
I looked at the camera hidden above the bookcase.
“I think you already did that yourself.”
His eyes followed mine.
The moment he saw the camera, his expression changed.
He raised the gun.
A loud crack exploded through the room.
The lamp shattered.
Paige screamed.
I dropped behind the desk.
Marian hit the emergency button on her bracelet.
A siren began to sound outside.
Evan turned and ran.
We heard the back door slam.
Then footsteps.
Police flooded the property.
Evan was gone.
They found his car abandoned two streets away.
But they didn't find him.
That night, Marian moved into the guest cottage with me.
Thomas stayed until sunrise.
We watched the footage repeatedly.
The gunshot.
The escape.
The ledger.
Everything.
Then Thomas found something.
“The weapon wasn't loaded.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
He examined the footage frame by frame.
“The casing was blank.”
Marian frowned.
“He wanted to scare us.”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
Thomas looked at the ledger.
“Because he knew this was no longer about the house.”
He turned several pages.
There were payments to doctors.
Private investigators.
A moving company.
And one entry dated seven years earlier.
PROJECT ASH.
I stared at it.
“What is Project Ash?”
Marian's expression changed.
“I hoped I'd never have to tell you.”
My mouth went dry.
“Tell me.”
She sat down.
“When Evan was twenty-nine, my husband discovered that money was disappearing from the family businesses.”
“Because of Evan?”
“We thought so.”
“But?”
“We were wrong.”
Marian looked at Thomas.
Thomas opened a sealed envelope.
Inside was an old police report.
A woman had been reported missing.
Name:
Elena Shaw.
I knew the name.
She had worked for the family.
“She disappeared seven years ago.”
Marian nodded.
“She knew too much.”
“About what?”
“About the money.”
Thomas pointed to a line.
Last known contact: Evan Vale.
I felt cold.
“Did Evan hurt her?”
“We never proved it.”
“But you suspected him.”
“Yes.”
Marian looked at me.
“That's why your father helped us create the trust.”
“My father knew?”
“He did.”
“Then why didn't he tell me?”
“Because he believed you were safer not knowing.”
I stared at the report.
Seven years.
A missing woman.
A secret account.
Project Ash.
My husband.
The pieces were becoming something much darker than a bad marriage.
Then a police officer entered.
“We found Mr. Vale.”
My entire body went rigid.
“Where?”
“In an underground parking garage.”
“Is he arrested?”
The officer hesitated.
“He claims you attacked him.”
“What?”
“He says you orchestrated a financial conspiracy against him.”
Marian laughed once.
“He's desperate.”
The officer continued.
“There is more.”
“What?”
“He contacted a lawyer before we arrived.”
“Who?”
The officer looked at Thomas.
“Your old law partner.”
I frowned.
“My old law partner?”
Thomas went pale.
“Daniel Mercer.”
I hadn't spoken to Daniel in three years.
He had been the most brilliant attorney I knew.
And the only man who had ever warned me about Evan.
The officer handed me a business card.
Daniel's number was written on it.
Below it, one sentence.
HE KNOWS WHERE THE MONEY WENT.
I called.
Daniel answered on the first ring.
“Claire.”
“How do you know what's happening?”
“I've been waiting for this phone call.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Then:
“Because seven years ago, Evan didn't steal the money.”
My skin prickled.
“Then who did?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“The person who signed the original trust.”
My eyes moved toward Marian.
She was staring at me.
The call suddenly sounded like a countdown.
Daniel said:
“Claire, listen carefully. You cannot trust anyone inside that house.”
“Not even Marian?”
He went silent.
May you like
Then whispered:
“Especially not Marian.”
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