Chapter 7 - LUCAS'S SECRET
Claire looked at her husband.
Lucas said nothing.
That frightened her more than denial would have.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“The night before your father died.”
“Yes.”
“You told me you were in Chicago.”
“I lied.”
Claire stepped back.
Rosa lowered her gaze.
Mason crossed his arms.
“Why.”
Lucas stared at his father’s grave.
“Because my father called me.”
“He said he had discovered financial irregularities.”
“He believed Graham was moving money through shell companies.”
Claire waited.
“That still doesn’t explain why you lied to me.”
Lucas looked at her.
“Because my father asked me to.”
“Why.”
“He didn’t know who was involved.”
“He thought someone close to the family was feeding Graham information.”
Mason frowned.
“What happened in the study.”
Lucas described it.
Henry had shown him records.
Payments.
Offshore entities.
Trust modifications.
Then Henry had opened his safe.
Inside was the original signed trust.
“He told me to take it.”
Claire’s anger sharpened.
“Did you.”
“No.”
“Why.”
“My mother came back.”
Rosa looked surprised.
“You said she left.”
“She did.”
Lucas nodded.
“Then she returned.”
“What happened.”
“They argued.”
Lucas closed his eyes.
“My father accused her of protecting Evelyn.”
Claire turned.
“Evelyn.”
“He said Evelyn had taken company money.”
“And Graham helped cover it.”
That explained Evelyn’s rage.
Maybe.
But not everything.
Mason asked the obvious question.
“Where is the original trust now.”
“I don’t know.”
“My mother forced me out of the study.”
“Father died the next morning.”
Claire remembered the official story.
Heart attack.
Natural causes.
No autopsy because Henry had a known cardiac condition.
She looked at Mason.
He had clearly reached the same thought.
Lucas shook his head immediately.
“No.”
Mason said nothing.
“My mother did not kill my father.”
Claire spoke softly.
“We don’t know that.”
Lucas turned toward her.
“You think everyone in my family is a murderer now.”
“I think someone pushed a pregnant woman down your staircase yesterday.”
The words landed.
Lucas looked ashamed.
Mason’s phone rang.
He listened.
Then held the device away.
“Forensics finished examining the staircase.”
Claire’s pulse quickened.
“Was I pushed.”
Mason looked at Evelyn.
Then at Lucas.
“There was oil on the third step.”
Lucas frowned.
“What kind.”
“Furniture polish.”
Rosa shook her head.
“We never polish the stairs on event days.”
Mason continued.
“There were prints on the bottle found in a service closet.”
Claire asked.
“Whose.”
May you like
Mason looked directly at Lucas.
“Yours.”
