Chapter 5 - Clara sat at a table inside the chapter's clubhouse, staring at a photograph of her mother.Miriam Higgins.
Soft smile.
Brown hair.
Gentle eyes.
The woman Clara remembered was always tired.
Always kind.
Always terrified whenever Tommy came home late.
But the file Bobby placed in front of her told a different story.
Miriam had been using another name.
Miriam Cross.
She had been listed as an accountant for a company that disappeared seventeen years earlier.
That company was connected to a network of shell corporations.
Those corporations were connected to stolen money.
And one of the names attached to the network was Marcus Vale.
Clara shook her head.
“My mother wouldn't do this.”
Liam sat across from her.
“You don't know what your mother did.”
“I know her.”
“You know the woman who raised you.”
“Same thing.”
“Not always.”
Clara slammed the file shut.
“My mother loved us.”
“I didn't say she didn't.”
“Then stop talking about her like she was a criminal.”
Liam remained silent.
Then Clara noticed something.
A small photograph was inside the file.
Her mother standing beside a young man.
Tommy.
But Tommy was only five.
Beside him was another child.
A little girl.
Clara.
There was one problem.
The photograph was dated two years before Clara was born.
Clara stared.
“This is impossible.”
Liam took the picture.
He turned it over.
There was writing on the back.
Two words.
Project Lily.
Clara stopped breathing.
“That's her.”
Liam looked at her.
“Who's Lily?”
“My sister.”
He stared at the photograph.
“Clara, how old was your mother when she died?”
“Thirty-eight.”
“And your father?”
“Thirty-nine.”
“Do you know how they died?”
“Car accident.”
“Who investigated it?”
“The police.”
“Which department?”
Clara didn't know.
Liam's eyes narrowed.
“That's the problem.”
He pushed another folder toward her.
Inside was the accident report.
The official report stated both parents died instantly.
But attached medical photographs showed something strange.
Neither had suffered fatal injuries from the crash.
Clara's hands started shaking.
“They were already dead.”
Liam nodded.
“Before the car hit the tree.”
Clara looked up.
“Then who killed them?”
“We don't know.”
“Ray?”
“No.”
“Marcus?”
“Maybe.”
Clara stood.
“This is insane.”
She walked toward the door.
Liam followed.
“Where are you going?”
“To find the box.”
“What box?”
“My mother's jewelry box.”
They returned to Clara's apartment.
The building was dark.
Too dark.
The front door stood open.
Clara froze.
Liam raised his weapon.
“Stay behind me.”
They entered.
The apartment had been destroyed.
Drawers emptied.
Mattress cut open.
Cabinets overturned.
Someone had searched everything.
Clara ran to her mother's old closet.
The wooden box was gone.
She turned.
“Someone already took it.”
Liam studied the floor.
A fresh footprint.
Someone had been here minutes ago.
Then the elevator bell rang.
Liam motioned for everyone to remain silent.
The doors opened.
An old woman stepped out.
Clara recognized her.
Mrs. Bennett.
The neighbor who had lived across the hall for twenty years.
The old woman looked at Clara.
Then at Liam.
Then she whispered.
“Your mother told me this day would come.”
Clara stepped forward.
“What day?”
Mrs. Bennett reached inside her coat.
Liam raised his weapon.
“Slowly.”
She pulled out a small key.
“Your mother left this for you.”
Clara stared.
“What does it open?”
Mrs. Bennett's eyes filled with fear.
“Your mother's grave.”
Clara frowned.
“My mother's grave?”
The old woman nodded.
“There is something underneath it.”
Liam looked at Clara.
“Whatever it is, your mother wanted you to find it.”
Then Mrs. Bennett suddenly collapsed.
A thin red line appeared across her throat.
Clara screamed.
Liam caught her before she hit the floor.
Bobby looked toward the hallway.
“Sniper?”
Liam shook his head.
“No.”
He examined the wound.
His expression darkened.
“This was a warning.”
Clara looked at him.
“Why?”
May you like
Liam held up the key.
“Because whoever killed her wants us at the cemetery.”
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