Chapter 6 - The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead"Get in the car," Julian said.
Rachel kept both hands on the steering wheel.
"No."
He barely glanced at her.
"Please, Morgan. We have about five minutes before Victor realizes I've left."
"You just admitted you helped him arrange my death."
"I know what I said."
"Then tell me why I should listen to you."
Julian looked as though he wanted to argue. Instead, he reached into his coat and held the photograph against the passenger window.
Claire Sloane stood beneath the awning of a hotel, wearing a black coat and looking directly at the camera. She was older than in Margaret's photograph, thinner around the face, with a pale scar extending from her temple toward her ear.
Beside her stood a uniformed police officer.
I recognized the name printed on the photograph's reverse.
OFFICER PETER HALE.
Detective Harris had mentioned him during our conversation about Claire. Hale had been involved in the original investigation into her sudden illness, then disappeared while under review for alleged misconduct. Months later, his vehicle had been found abandoned near Lake Michigan.
The police had never recovered a body.
"Where did you get this?" I asked.
"Claire sent it to me."
"When?"
"Three days ago."
"Why would she contact you?"
"Because she knows what Victor is planning."
I almost laughed.
"So you and your former fiancée have suddenly become friends again?"
"No. She contacted me because she doesn't trust anyone else who knows her father."
"And she trusts you?"
His face tightened.
"No. She thinks I'm a coward."
At least one person understood him.
Rachel finally unlocked the passenger door, but she didn't move the car.
"Five minutes," she said. "Then we're calling the police."
Julian climbed into the back seat.
We drove to a small public parking lot several blocks away, where he asked us to stop beside a row of leafless trees.
For the first time since I'd known him, my husband looked genuinely afraid.
"Two years ago, Victor's company was close to bankruptcy," he began. "He had borrowed against several properties, and a major investment deal fell apart. He needed money quickly."
"From Claire's inheritance," I said.
"Yes. Claire's mother left her controlling interests in a land trust. Victor believed he could persuade her to transfer them to him. She refused."
"So he made her sick with a necklace."
Julian lowered his eyes.
"I knew the necklace was part of Victor's plan to frighten her. I thought it was a way to pressure her into signing documents. I didn't know exactly what was inside it."
"That's your excuse?"
"No. It's the truth."
He looked up.
"I watched Claire become ill after that dinner. I saw the hospital reports. I knew something was wrong, and I still let Victor convince me that it had been an accident."
"Then you helped him do it again."
This time, he didn't deny it.
"What happened to Claire?"
"She survived. After she left the hospital, Victor told everyone she was unstable and had stolen money from his company. She tried to report him, but the evidence disappeared. When she realized he was tracking her, she vanished."
"And Peter Hale?"
"He was the officer who investigated the first incident. He became convinced Victor had influence inside the department. Before he could take the evidence to federal investigators, he disappeared, too."
"You expect me to believe a police officer faked his death?"
"I expect you to understand that Victor has people who will do things for money."
Julian leaned forward.
"Claire sent me that photograph because she has evidence connecting Victor to the property deal. She thinks he's going to move against you before the end of the month."
"Why me?"
"Because your grandmother's trust owns the only parcel Victor needs to complete the development."
He described a project involving luxury residences, private marina access, and a commercial waterfront district. The figures sounded unreal. Victor's company had already secured agreements with several investors, but the project could not proceed unless the original family land was transferred.
My cottage was a key part of the parcel.
The land itself was worth far more than I had imagined.
"And the necklace?" I asked again.
Julian swallowed.
"Victor said it would make you sick enough to reconsider your position. He told me the substance was temporary and that he had arranged everything with someone who knew what they were doing."
"You believed him?"
"I wanted to believe him."
"You wanted me to wear a dangerous substance against my skin."
"I know."
His voice cracked.
For a second, I remembered the man who used to leave notes in my lunch bag. Then I remembered the cloudy glass, the hidden compartment, and the question he kept asking.
Did you wear it?
"Did Victor give you a deadline?" Rachel asked.
"Tomorrow morning. Morgan was supposed to sign the initial transfer agreement. If she refused, he planned to escalate."
"Escalate how?"
Julian stared at me.
"I don't know everything he has planned. But he told me the necklace was only the beginning."
I pulled out my phone.
"Tell Detective Harris all of this."
"I will. But not from a phone they can trace."
"You've been watching my apartment, haven't you?"
He didn't answer.
"Julian."
"Victor put someone outside the building after he learned the police had visited. I was trying to see who it was."
"You could have told me."
"I didn't know whether the person watching you worked for Victor or for someone else."
Rachel shook her head.
"You expect us to trust you now, after everything?"
"No," Julian said. "I expect you to keep Morgan alive long enough for Claire to expose him."
He took an envelope from his coat and handed it to me.
Inside were copies of bank transfers, draft property agreements, and emails between Julian and Victor. Several documents carried signatures that looked like mine.
I looked closer.
The signature on one transfer authorization was an almost perfect imitation of my handwriting.
"I never signed this."
"I know."
My stomach turned.
Julian had given someone access to our financial records, and someone had been preparing legal documents using my identity.
Rachel photographed every page.
Then my phone rang.
Detective Harris.
I answered immediately.
"Mrs. Morgan, I need you to tell me where you are."
"We're in a parking lot. Julian is with us."
There was a sharp pause.
"Has he threatened you?"
"No. He's given us evidence."
"Do not move. We're sending officers to your location."
Julian went pale.
"What is it?" I asked.
Harris's voice rose with urgency.
"The laboratory has completed its preliminary analysis of the pendant. The substance isn't a simple irritant. Investigators believe it was designed to cause a serious medical emergency through exposure. We are treating this as a suspected attempted poisoning."
My hands began to shake.
"Can they identify who supplied it?"
"Not yet. But we found something else inside the pendant."
"What?"
"A tiny fragment of paper sealed behind the backing. It contains a partial serial number linked to a private medical supplier."
Julian closed his eyes.
Harris continued.
"We're working to identify the purchaser. In the meantime, your husband has just become a person of interest."
Julian looked at me.
I looked back at him.
He had finally brought me the truth, but the truth was not an apology, and it was certainly not forgiveness.
Then Harris said, "There's another development. A vehicle registered to Victor Sloane has just been found outside your sister's apartment."
Rachel turned toward the street.
Across the parking lot, a black SUV had pulled to the curb.
The driver was staring directly at us.
Julian recognized the vehicle before I did.
"Get down," he shouted.
May you like
The SUV accelerated.
And as Rachel slammed her foot onto the gas, I heard the first crack of breaking glass behind us.
Related Stories
