Relief crossed his face.
"Then who was?"
Claire looked at me.
"Richard designed it."
My uncle.
"Samuel created the shell companies."
"Vanessa moved social and vendor money."
"And others helped without understanding the full operation."
"Malcolm?"
"Yes."
"Victor?"
"No."
I glanced at him.
He didn't celebrate.
Maybe because Mom was still dead.
Claire continued.
"Eleanor believed Richard wanted control of Vale Holdings."
"Why?"
"Because your father's will gave Richard almost nothing."
I frowned.
My father died eleven years ago.
He left company voting rights to Mom.
Personal investments to me.
Richard received two properties and cash.
Millions.
But apparently millions weren't enough.
Claire looked directly at me.
"Richard always believed the empire should have gone to him."
Because he was a Vale son.
I had heard comments before.
Never taken them seriously.
"Then what happened?"
"Eleanor asked me to meet her."
Claire's breathing changed.
"We drove separately to a storage facility."
"Why?"
"She kept copies of evidence there."
Police had not found that yet.
Brooks immediately wrote something down.
"On the way back, she told me she was going to contact federal investigators in the morning."
My heart tightened.
"Samuel called me."
Claire began crying.
"I didn't answer."
"Then?"
"A black SUV followed us."
Victor leaned forward.
"Whose?"
"I don't know."
"We stopped at the service station."
That explained the photograph.
"Eleanor noticed the SUV."
"Was Samuel's driver there?"
"I saw him."
My stomach turned.
"He approached the car?"
"Yes."
"What did he do?"
"I don't know. Eleanor told me to stay inside the shop."
Then came the part I wasn't ready for.
"She made me switch cars with her."
I stared at Claire.
"Why?"
"She thought they were following her."
Claire wiped her face.
"She wanted them to follow the wrong vehicle."
"But she died in her own car."
Claire shook her head.
"No."
Everything stopped.
"What?"
"The car listed in the police report was registered to Vale Holdings."
She swallowed.
"But it wasn't Eleanor's usual car."
My mind struggled to catch up.
"Then where was Mom?"
Claire closed her eyes.
"With me."
I couldn't breathe.
"What happened?"
"We left in my car."
"The SUV followed us anyway."
"How?"
Claire's voice broke.
"Because Samuel had put a tracker in my purse."
She hadn't known until later.
The SUV forced them toward an industrial road.
Mom told Claire to drive faster.
Then another vehicle appeared.
They were trapped.
"Your mother told me to stop."
"Why?"
"She said running would get us killed."
My hands became cold.
"Who got out?"
Claire looked at Daniel.
"Samuel."
His face collapsed.
"And?"
"Richard."
I closed my eyes.
They confronted Mom.
Wanted the evidence.
Wanted estate codes.
Wanted her to sign emergency corporate documents.
Mom refused.
Of course she did.
Claire tried to call police.
Samuel took her phone.
Then something happened no one expected.
Victor's name came up on Mom's car system through her linked phone.
Richard panicked.
He thought Victor knew where they were.
They forced Mom into the other vehicle.
Claire was pushed into the back seat.
They drove.
"Then?"
Claire began sobbing.
"Your mother fought."
That sounded like her.
"She grabbed the wheel."
"The car swerved."
"Samuel's driver lost control."
Claire closed her eyes.
"We hit the barrier."
My chest hurt.
"How did you survive?"
"I wasn't in that car."
"What?"
"They had moved me into the SUV."
I stared at her.
"They planned to make Eleanor's death look like an accident."
The crash happened too early.
Not where planned.
Samuel's driver survived with injuries.
Richard pulled him out.
Mom did not survive.
They panicked.
Moved Claire.
Placed identifying items into the wreck.
Later, the report was manipulated using paid contacts.
I felt nauseous.
"Why didn't you go to police?"
Claire looked at me with shame.
"Samuel said he'd kill you."
I stepped back.
"He showed me photographs of you in Europe."
My skin went cold.
"He knew your apartment."
"Your school."
"Your routine."
Claire cried harder.
"I believed him."
So she lied.
Helped maintain the accident story.
Then Mom's hidden records started surfacing.
Samuel became suspicious of Claire.
She fled.
Checked into the clinic under a false name.
"Why the clinic?"
"I had a panic attack."
She looked at me.
"I couldn't breathe."
For the first time, some of my anger softened.
Not all.
But enough to see she had been trapped too.
Detective Brooks asked one final question.
"Where is the original evidence Eleanor collected?"
Claire looked at me.
"She hid it somewhere Richard would never search."
"Where?"
Claire swallowed.
"In Charlotte's childhood bedroom."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"Inside the wall behind your old bookshelf."
My pulse jumped.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice said,
"Don't go back to that house."
I froze.
"Who is this?"
"You don't know me."
"Then why are you calling?"
"Because Richard Grant knows Claire is alive."
My blood went cold.
The voice continued.
"And someone from his team is already inside your mother's house."
This time, I listened to Detective Brooks.
I did not run to the house.
I wanted to.
Every part of me wanted to get there before whoever was searching my bedroom found my mother's evidence.
But Brooks grabbed my shoulders.
"Charlotte, if they are already there, you arriving helps them."
That stopped me.
Police moved immediately.
I watched the operation from the clinic conference room.
Officers surrounded Mom's house.
No lights.
No sirens.
The intruder never saw them coming.
At 1:17 p.m., they arrested a man climbing from my second-floor window.
He had a crowbar.
Gloves.
A photograph of my childhood bedroom.
And a burner phone.