Chapter 5 - The Woman Who Was Erased
Detective Hayes didn't arrest Thomas immediately.
That surprised me.
It also made me angry.
“He threatened my daughter,” I said.
We were standing near the maintenance road while two officers separated Thomas from the rest of the group.
Hayes examined my bleeding lip.
“Did he hit you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hit him first?”
I hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Then don't make this harder than it needs to be.”
I stared at her.
“He had a gun.”
“He says he was conducting a security response after an unauthorized person entered your property.”
“He shut down my communications.”
“We'll investigate that.”
“He lied about a woman being dead.”
“We'll investigate that too.”
I stepped closer.
“Rebecca, my daughter just spoke for the first time in nearly two years.”
Her expression softened.
“I heard.”
“And she said he's the man who frightens her.”
“I heard that too.”
“Then why are you standing here?”
“Because if I handle this carelessly, the people responsible may walk away.”
That stopped me.
Hayes glanced toward Emily.
Clara had wrapped my coat around her.
The little girl was sitting in the back of an ambulance, drinking water from a paper cup.
A female paramedic was speaking softly to her.
Emily wasn't answering.
But she wasn't hiding either.
Hayes lowered her voice.
“I believe something happened to your daughter.”
My chest tightened.
“Then help her.”
“I intend to.”
She paused.
“But first, you need to understand that nobody is above suspicion.”
I looked at her.
“Including me?”
“Especially you.”
I almost laughed.
Then I realized she was serious.
“Why?”
“Because the first question investigators will ask is how a child was traumatized on one of the most heavily secured private properties in Connecticut, and her father apparently knew nothing about it.”
I looked away.
There was no defense against that.
Not one I could live with.
Hayes had already requested emergency assistance from a child protection specialist.
She wanted Emily assessed in a safe environment without repeated questioning.
She also wanted to preserve the toy, clothing, and any recordings that might become evidence.
I understood why.
I hated every second of it.
“Clara isn't going anywhere,” I said.
“Not without telling me everything.”
Hayes folded her arms.
“She'll have a chance to speak.”
“She's the only person Emily trusts.”
“Then let's make sure we don't destroy that trust by turning her into a witness on demand.”
I looked toward the ambulance.
Clara was humming again.
Emily held the rabbit against her chest.
The sight made something ache behind my ribs.
A few minutes later, Hayes approached Clara.
“Ms. Bennett?”
Clara stiffened.
“Am I under arrest?”
“No.”
“Thomas said—”
“I know what Thomas said.”
Hayes showed her identification.
“I'd like to hear your account.”
Clara looked at me.
Then at Emily.
“I'll talk.”
Hayes nodded toward a nearby police vehicle.
“Let's sit somewhere private.”
Clara hesitated.
“Emily stays where I can see her.”
“We can arrange that.”
I watched them move away.
Then my phone buzzed.
Signal had returned.
Thirty-seven missed calls.
Twelve from my office.
Nine from Victoria.
Six from Thomas.
The rest from people whose names suddenly seemed meaningless.
I opened Victoria's messages.
The first was simple.
Please come back inside.
The second arrived four minutes later.
Jonathan, you don't understand what Clara did.
Then:
Thomas says she's dangerous.
Then:
Please don't let Emily leave with her.
The final message had arrived less than a minute before the police.
If you love our daughter, don't let them find the recordings.
I read it three times.
My hands went cold.
The recordings.
Not a recording.
Not the camera.
Recordings.
I walked toward Hayes.
“Rebecca.”
She looked up.
I handed her my phone.
“Read the last message.”
Her face changed.
“Did you reply?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She photographed the screen and asked me to preserve the phone.
Then she turned toward an officer.
“Request a preservation order for all security recordings, local and cloud-based.”
The officer nodded.
Hayes looked at me.
“Where's your wife?”
“In the house.”
She spoke into her radio.
“Have someone locate Victoria Whitmore.”
A minute later, the response came.
“Detective, Mrs. Whitmore isn't on the property.”
I felt the ground shift beneath my feet.
“What?”
The officer repeated himself.
“She left approximately fifteen minutes ago.”
“How?”
“East driveway. Vehicle registered to the Whitmore family.”
I stared toward the mansion.
Victoria had left.
Without Emily.
Without me.
And apparently without telling anyone where she was going.
Hayes watched my expression.
“Do you know where she might go?”
I thought of our New York apartment.
Our private club.
Her mother's house in Westchester.
Then I remembered something.
Victoria had never liked the lake house.
She refused to spend nights there.
Whenever I suggested visiting, she found an excuse.
Headaches.
Appointments.
Charity commitments.
For nearly two years, she had avoided the place.
I looked at Hayes.
“The lake.”
“What?”
“Our property near Lake Waramaug.”
“Why there?”
I swallowed.
“Because that's where the fire happened.”
Hayes went still.
“What fire?”
I explained what Clara had told me.
Hayes listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she looked toward the ambulance.
“Did she give you an exact date?”
I tried to remember.
Then Clara spoke from behind us.
“October seventeenth.”
I turned.
She stood beside the police vehicle, looking exhausted.
“Two years ago,” she added.
Hayes reached for her notebook.
“Are you certain?”
Clara nodded.
“I remember because it was Daniel's birthday.”
I looked at her.
“What happened to your husband?”
Her eyes filled.
“He tried to help me.”
“How?”
“He worked for your security company.”
I remembered Daniel Bennett now.
Not his face.
His name.
It had appeared on payroll reports years earlier.
A systems engineer.
Quiet.
Highly recommended.
He had resigned, according to the records, after accepting another job.
Clara looked at me.
“Daniel discovered that footage from Emily's bedroom was being copied to a private server.”
Hayes leaned forward.
“Whose server?”
Clara hesitated.
“Adrian Vale's.”
My stomach tightened.
The former finance executive.
The fire.
The secret camera.
The missing engineer.
Pieces were beginning to connect.
But I still couldn't see the whole picture.
“Why would Adrian record my daughter?” I asked.
Clara shook her head.
“He wasn't recording her for entertainment.”
“Then why?”
“Because he wanted something from Victoria.”
I felt a sudden chill.
“What?”
Clara looked directly at me.
“Access.”
“To what?”
“Your company's international accounts.”
I stared at her.
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
She reached into her coat again.
This time, she removed a small metal object wrapped in tissue.
A silver flash drive.
“Daniel kept a copy.”
Hayes held out her hand.
Clara hesitated.
“Please don't let Thomas touch it.”
“He won't.”
Clara handed it over.
A small yellow sticker was attached to the drive.
On it were three handwritten words.
FOR JONATHAN ONLY.
I looked at Clara.
“Why didn't you bring this to me two years ago?”
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“Your security team detained me.”
“Then?”
“They told me Daniel had died.”
My chest tightened.
“They threatened you?”
Clara nodded.
“And they told me that if I contacted you again, Emily would pay for it.”
I closed my eyes.
She continued.
“I believed them.”
I opened my mouth to speak.
But Clara wasn't finished.
“They took my identification.”
Her voice shook.
“They took my money.”
She looked toward my daughter.
“And when I finally escaped, they had already told everyone I was unstable.”
Hayes asked quietly, “Where were you held?”
Clara's face drained of color.
“In a private treatment facility outside Hartford.”
I looked at Hayes.
She had stopped writing.
“Which facility?” she asked.
Clara whispered the name.
“Northbridge Behavioral Center.”
Hayes stared at her.
Then she said something I would never forget.
“That facility was shut down last year.”
Clara nodded.
“I know.”
Hayes swallowed.
“Three former patients are still missing.”
May you like
Clara looked at me.
“And Daniel was one of them.”
