Chapter 5 - THE LIFE CORINNE WANTED
Detective Pierce arrived at Leah’s house before sunset.
He brought another detective.
Her name was Amelia Grant.
Grant specialized in financial crimes.
That alone told Ethan the investigation had widened.
They photographed Mara’s envelope and the picture.
Then Grant asked about Natalie Sloan.
Leah told them everything she remembered.
Natalie had attended State University with Mara and Corinne.
She was outgoing.
Funny.
Protective of her older brother Derek.
During sophomore year, Corinne and Natalie became inseparable.
Mara sometimes joined them.
Then money started disappearing from students.
Small amounts.
Credit cards.
Rent payments.
Scholarship funds.
Nobody could prove who was responsible.
Mara suspected Corinne.
Natalie defended her.
Then one night, Natalie called Mara crying.
“She said she had found something.”
Leah looked at Ethan.
“What?”
Grant asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Did Mara?”
“She never told me.”
“When did Natalie disappear?”
“Three days later.”
Pierce wrote something down.
“Was Corinne questioned?”
“Yes.”
“Derek?”
“Yes.”
“Evelyn?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened to the investigation?”
“It went cold.”
Ethan stared at the photograph.
“Why didn’t Mara tell me any of this?”
Leah answered quietly.
“Because until Corinne came back, Mara believed Natalie’s disappearance had nothing to do with her.”
“What changed?”
“Mara found a newspaper clipping in Corinne’s purse.”
Pierce looked up.
“What clipping?”
“An article about Natalie.”
Leah continued.
“Corinne claimed she carried it because she felt guilty about losing her friend.”
“And Mara believed that?”
“At first.”
Ethan felt anger rise again.
“Everyone kept believing Corinne.”
Leah looked at him.
“So did you.”
The sentence landed hard.
Ethan nodded.
“You’re right.”
Leah’s expression softened slightly.
Grant placed the photograph in an evidence sleeve.
“We’re going to look at the old missing-person file.”
Ethan leaned forward.
“What does any of this have to do with Maisie’s money?”
“That’s what we need to establish.”
Ethan looked at Grant.
“Corinne didn’t come into my life randomly.”
“No.”
“You believe that too.”
“I believe there are enough connections to investigate.”
Maisie entered carrying her stuffed rabbit.
Leah immediately ended the discussion.
“Hungry?”
Maisie nodded.
While Leah prepared grilled cheese, Ethan stood on the back porch with Pierce.
“Have you spoken to Corinne?”
“She stopped answering questions.”
“Of course.”
“Her attorney is cooperating with logistics.”
“Is she allowed to leave?”
“She hasn’t been charged with a crime related to Mara’s death.”
“Yet.”
Pierce studied him.
“Do not build the conclusion before we build the evidence.”
Ethan looked toward the yard.
“Easy for you to say.”
“No.”
Pierce’s voice remained calm.
“It’s necessary for me to say.”
Ethan nodded reluctantly.
“Derek?”
“Still missing.”
“Evelyn?”
“We know where she lives.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“We’re working on that.”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I’m not going to tell you operational details.”
“My wife is dead.”
“I know.”
“My daughter has bruises.”
“I know.”
“The woman I married may be connected to both.”
Pierce stepped closer.
“And if you want the strongest possible case, you need to let us move carefully.”
Ethan looked away.
Pierce continued.
“You can do one thing.”
“What?”
“Review your financial history.”
Ethan turned.
“Why?”
“Detective Grant noticed something.”
“What?”
“The company name from Mara’s notebook.”
“Vale Consulting?”
“It changed names.”
“To what?”
Pierce told him.
Ethan’s face went blank.
Bennett Family Services LLC.
Ethan had created that company after Mara died.
Or at least he thought he had.
It existed to pay household expenses.
Corinne managed it.
Pierce watched his reaction.
“You recognize it.”
“Yes.”
“Check every transaction.”
Ethan did.
He spent the next six hours with Rachel and his private accountant, Thomas Reed.
By midnight, the kitchen table was covered with statements.
What they found was worse than Ethan expected.
Hundreds of thousands of dollars had moved through Bennett Family Services.
Most expenses looked legitimate.
Property taxes.
School tuition.
Household payroll.
Insurance.
But hidden among them were transfers.
Twenty thousand.
Fifteen thousand.
Forty-two thousand.
Some went to accounts Ethan did not recognize.
Others went to shell companies.
One recurring recipient stood out.
Hart Property Management.
Evelyn Hart.
Corinne’s mother.
Ethan stared at the screen.
“She’s been sending money to Evelyn.”
Thomas nodded.
“For at least eighteen months.”
“How much?”
Thomas calculated.
“Two hundred and eighty-six thousand dollars.”
Rachel swore under her breath.
Ethan remained still.
“And Derek?”
“Nothing obvious.”
Thomas clicked another report.
“But there’s this.”
A payment of $38,500 had been made eleven days before Mara’s death.
Recipient.
Harrington Auto Restoration.
The shop from Mara’s notebook.
Ethan felt sick.
“What was the payment for?”
“No invoice attached.”
“Who authorized it?”
Thomas looked at him.
“Your electronic signature.”
“I didn’t authorize it.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“You were in Singapore.”
Ethan remembered the trip.
He had spent five days negotiating a merger.
Mara remained home with Maisie.
Corinne had been helping with a charity event.
Ethan stared at the transaction.
“Can you determine who logged in?”
“I can request archived access records.”
“Do it.”
Thomas hesitated.
“Ethan, this should probably go through police.”
“Send everything to Detective Grant.”
Thomas nodded.
Another transaction appeared.
$12,000.
Two days before Mara died.
Recipient.
D.S. Mobile Services.
Ethan looked at Thomas.
“D.S.”
Rachel whispered.
“Derek Sloan.”
Ethan’s phone rang.
Unknown number again.
Everyone stared at it.
Ethan answered.
“Hello?”
No one spoke.
“Who is this?”
A man breathed into the phone.
Then a voice.
“You found the photograph.”
Ethan stood.
“Derek?”
Silence.
“Is this Derek?”
The man ignored the question.
“You need to stop.”
“Why?”
“For your daughter.”
Ethan’s blood turned cold.
“Do not mention my daughter.”
“You don’t know what Corinne is capable of.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“You called me.”
“To warn you.”
“About Corinne?”
Silence.
“Where are you?”
The man laughed without humor.
“You think police haven’t asked that?”
“Did you hurt Mara?”
The line went silent.
Ethan’s grip tightened.
“Answer me.”
“I never wanted Mara dead.”
Every person in the kitchen froze.
Ethan’s voice dropped.
“That isn’t the same as saying you had nothing to do with it.”
Derek exhaled.
“You don’t understand.”
“Make me understand.”
“I owed Corinne.”
“For what?”
No answer.
“Natalie?”
Derek stopped breathing.
Ethan knew he had hit something.
“What happened to your sister?”
“Don’t.”
“What did Corinne do to Natalie?”
“Stop saying her name.”
“Why?”
Derek’s voice cracked.
“Because Natalie is the reason all of this started.”
The call disconnected.
Ethan immediately called Pierce.
Police attempted to trace the number.
It had been routed through a temporary service.
No immediate location was identified.
But the conversation had been recorded.
Derek had said one critical sentence.
I never wanted Mara dead.
Pierce refused to interpret it as a confession.
Ethan did not care what they called it.
Derek knew something.
Two days later, Detective Grant arrived at Ethan’s office.
She carried a folder.
“We got archived login records.”
Ethan stood.
“And?”
“The $38,500 payment.”
“Yes.”
“It was authorized from an IP address registered to your home.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“I was in Singapore.”
“We confirmed.”
“Who was home?”
“Mara.”
“And?”
“Corinne visited that afternoon.”
Ethan felt cold.
Grant placed another document on the desk.
“We also subpoenaed historical records from Harrington Auto.”
She slid an invoice toward him.
The invoice did not mention vehicle repair.
It described consulting work.
Ethan read the account number.
The payment had been transferred again less than twelve hours later.
Destination.
An account belonging to Derek Sloan.
Ethan whispered.
“Thirty-eight thousand five hundred.”
Grant nodded.
“Exactly.”
“For what?”
“We don’t know.”
Ethan looked at her.
“You have a theory.”
“I have questions.”
“Ask them.”
“Why did money move from your account to an automotive company and then to Derek Sloan eleven days before your wife’s fatal vehicle accident?”
Ethan leaned back.
The room seemed suddenly too small.
Grant produced another paper.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“After Mara died, the same amount came back.”
Ethan stared.
“To whom?”
“Not you.”
“Then who?”
Grant turned the page.
The refund had gone to a trust.
C.V. Holdings.
Ethan already knew what the initials meant.
Corinne Vale.
He felt rage surge.
“She paid him.”
“We can show money moved.”
“She paid him.”
“We cannot yet show what the payment purchased.”
“My wife warned me about her car.”
“I know.”
“She named Derek.”
“I know.”
“She died eleven days after he received nearly forty thousand dollars.”
“I know.”
Ethan stood.
“What else do you need?”
Grant remained calm.
“Proof.”
Ethan paced toward the window.
Then Grant said something unexpected.
“We found another transaction.”
He turned.
“How much?”
“Not money.”
“What?”
“A vehicle title.”
Ethan frowned.
Grant slid a copy across the desk.
Six months after Mara died, Derek Sloan transferred ownership of a cabin property to Evelyn Hart.
The property address matched the background in the twelve-year-old photograph.
The lakeside cabin.
Ethan stared at it.
“What does that mean?”
“We don’t know.”
“Is anyone there?”
“Detectives are checking.”
Grant gathered her papers.
Before leaving, she stopped.
“One more thing.”
Ethan waited.
“The cabin was originally owned by Natalie Sloan.”
His blood went cold.
“When did Derek inherit it?”
“He didn’t.”
Ethan frowned.
“Then how did he transfer it?”
Grant looked at him.
“That’s the problem.”
“Explain.”
“According to county records, Natalie signed the property over to Derek.”
“When?”
Grant’s expression changed.
“Seven years after she disappeared.”
Ethan stared at her.
A missing woman had somehow signed away a property while supposedly gone.
Either Natalie had been alive years after everyone believed she vanished.
Or someone had forged her name.
And if Corinne, Evelyn, and Derek had been willing to hide the truth about Natalie for twelve years, Ethan began to understand why Mara had been afraid.
The money was not the beginning.
Mara’s death was not the beginning.
May you like
Corinne’s lies had started long before Ethan ever met her.
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