Chapter 19 - What Claire Remembered
Claire let us inside because of my leg.
Not because she trusted Victoria.
Not because she wanted justice.
Because she looked at the scars around my knee and understood exactly what Margaret Vance was capable of.
For three hours, she told us everything.
Andrew had been different when she met him.
Charming.
Funny.
Attentive.
Then she discovered that Margaret controlled him through money.
And something darker.
Margaret and several wealthy investors had been buying distressed properties through shell companies, burning some for insurance, forcing vulnerable owners from others, and reselling them.
Sterling money had financed the operation.
Claire found the records.
She threatened to expose them.
That's when Margaret stopped pretending.
“They locked me downstairs for four days,” Claire said.
Victoria looked sick.
“Richard?”
“He came on the fourth night.”
“And my father?”
Claire stared at her.
“Your father paid me to disappear.”
Victoria blinked.
“What?”
“He gave me two choices. Take a new identity and leave, or Margaret would make sure I never left that basement.”
“Why didn't you go to police?”
“I tried.”
Claire walked to a cabinet.
She removed an old folder.
Inside was a police report.
Stamped.
Filed.
Ignored.
“My statement disappeared.”
Victoria whispered, “My father.”
Claire nodded.
“He owned people.”
Victoria sat down.
For once, she had nothing to say.
Claire looked at me.
“I watched your trial.”
“Why didn't you come forward?”
“Because I have a daughter.”
That surprised me.
Claire continued.
“She doesn't know who I was. She doesn't know about Andrew.”
“Andrew is her father?”
“No.”
Something about the way she answered made me stop.
Claire looked toward the window.
“I built another life. A good one.”
“I understand.”
“No, Emily.”
She turned back.
“You think this ended when Margaret went to prison.”
My stomach tightened.
“It didn't?”
Claire shook her head.
“Margaret was never the person at the top.”
“Then who was?”
May you like
Claire looked at Victoria.
“Richard.”
