Chapter 7: The Woman Claire Had Betrayed Before
“Claire isn't the first person in your family she's done this to.””
Harold Whitman's words seemed to freeze the entire kitchen.
I tightened my grip on the phone.
“What do you mean?””
There was a long pause.
“Your father discovered something about Claire before your wedding. He asked me to investigate her background.””
I looked at Daniel.
He immediately pulled out his notebook.
“Investigate her background?”” I repeated.
“Yes. And what I found frightened him.””
My mother slowly stood.
“Harold, what are you saying?””
“Lorraine, I'm sorry. I should have told you years ago.””
“Tell me now.””
The old lawyer sighed.
“Claire had been involved in a financial dispute with a previous employer. Money disappeared from an account she had access to. She claimed it was a bookkeeping mistake. The employer disagreed.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Why didn't Dad tell me?””
“He wanted to. But Claire had already convinced him that you were planning to marry her. He believed that exposing the investigation would drive you away from the family.””
“That makes no sense. He should have told me anyway.””
“I know.””
Harold continued.
“Your father eventually discovered that Claire had been asking questions about his properties, insurance policies, and retirement accounts. She had started visiting him when you weren't around.””
My mother covered her mouth.
“I remember those visits.””
I turned toward her.
“You do?””
She nodded.
“Claire used to bring your father coffee. She said she wanted to understand how he managed his business.””
Harold spoke again.
“Your father suspected she was looking for financial information. He hired me to establish a trust that would protect his assets and Lorraine's future.””
Daniel leaned toward the phone.
“Mr. Whitman, do you still have the original trust documents?””
“Yes. Everything is in my office. But there's another reason I need Nathan to come here.””
“What reason?”” I asked.
“Your father left a sealed statement. He instructed me to give it to you only if Claire attempted to access the trust.””
I looked at the calendar on Evan's tablet.
Monday.
The final transfer.
“Can we come today?””
“Yes. But Nathan, don't tell Claire you're coming.””
“I won't.””
Harold lowered his voice.
“And bring your mother. She deserves to hear the truth.””
The call ended.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then my mother sat down.
“I always thought your father liked Claire.””
I pulled a chair beside her.
“He wanted me to be happy, Mom.””
“But he was afraid.””
She looked at the photograph.
“I should have noticed.””
I shook my head.
“You trusted someone who was supposed to be family. That's not something you should be ashamed of.””
Evan came closer.
“Dad, does this mean Mom knew Grandma before she married you?””
I nodded.
“Apparently.””
He looked confused.
“But why would she want Grandma's money?””
I didn't have an answer.
Daniel closed his notebook.
“We'll get one.””
He recommended that we take photographs of every document, preserve the messages, and avoid confronting Claire again until the evidence had been secured.
Then he made a call to the bank.
By noon, we were on our way to Harold's office.
It was in an old brick building downtown, above a pharmacy and across from a small bakery.
Harold was waiting near the reception desk.
He was seventy-eight, thin, and walked with a silver cane.
When he saw my mother, he immediately approached her.
“Lorraine.””
She took his hand.
“Harold.””
“I am so sorry.””
My mother looked at him for a moment.
Then she asked the question that had been sitting in all our minds.
“What did my husband know?””
Harold led us into his office.
He locked the door.
Then he placed a thick file on the desk.
“Your husband discovered that Claire had attempted to obtain confidential financial information from him before she married Nathan.””
I leaned forward.
“How?””
“Your father kept records of every unusual financial inquiry. One day, he discovered that someone had requested information about his retirement account using personal details that should never have been shared.””
“Claire?””
Harold nodded.
“She had contacted the financial institution pretending to be a family representative.””
Daniel opened his notebook.
“Was there a police report?””
“No. Your father didn't want a scandal before the wedding. He wanted to protect his son.””
I felt anger rising.
“He let me marry her without telling me?””
“He thought he could protect you without destroying your relationship.””
I looked at my mother.
She was staring at the file.
“What happened after the wedding?”” she asked.
Harold removed another document.
“Your father placed the properties into a trust. He also established a separate investment account for Lorraine.””
“That's the account Claire accessed,” Daniel said.
“Partly. But not the entire account.””
Harold opened a second folder.
“Your father also created an emergency reserve. It was designed to provide Lorraine with financial security if anyone attempted to misuse her assets.””
“How much?”” I asked.
Harold looked at me.
“Approximately $240,000, including accrued investment returns.””
My mother gasped.
“Two hundred and forty thousand?””
Harold nodded.
“Your husband funded it over several years. It was separate from the account Claire accessed.””
I stared at him.
“Where is it?””
“Protected by the trust. Neither Claire nor Marcus has authority over it.””
For the first time in days, I felt a little relief.
Then Harold opened the sealed envelope.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
He passed it to me.
I recognized my father's handwriting immediately.
Nathan,
If Claire ever attempts to access the family trust, don't assume she's acting alone.
There is someone who helped her gather information about our assets. I never discovered the full extent of their involvement.
I believe that person is closer to our family than you realize.
I read the sentence again.
Someone closer to our family.
My mother looked at Harold.
“Did my husband know who it was?””
Harold shook his head.
“He had suspicions, but no proof.””
Daniel examined the next page.
“There's a name here.””
I leaned closer.
At the bottom of the letter, my father had written:
*Speak to Robert before signing anything.*
I looked up.
“Robert who?””
Harold went pale.
“Robert Miller.””
My uncle.
My father's younger brother.
The man who had attended our wedding, held Evan when he was born, and visited our house every Thanksgiving.
I shook my head.
“No. Uncle Robert wouldn't be involved.””
Harold looked at me sadly.
“Your father thought the same thing.””
Then he opened a drawer and removed a photograph.
It showed Claire standing outside a restaurant with Marcus Reed.
Beside them was another man.
I recognized him instantly.
My uncle Robert.
But the date on the photograph was written on the back.
May you like
It was taken eleven days before my father died.
And Claire was holding a document bearing the same logo as Marcus's property company.
