Chapter 18 - The False Victory
Brooke had evidence.
A photograph.
Ryan standing beside Grant’s truck near the warehouse the night of the fire.
The timestamp placed him there forty-three minutes before flames were reported.
“Why didn’t you tell police?”
“I didn’t have this until today.”
“Where did it come from?”
“Dad sent it to me.”
My stomach tightened.
“Grant?”
“He told me if Ryan blamed everything on him, I should release it.”
Even trapped, Grant was still playing his children against each other.
Brooke showed me the accompanying message.
Ryan lit the match.
I told him to scare the guard away first.
He panicked.
That message changed the investigation again.
Ryan’s attorney had been presenting him as a reluctant participant controlled by his father.
Now investigators had evidence Ryan might have personally started the fire.
Brooke began crying.
“I don’t know what’s true anymore.”
I understood the feeling.
“Give the phone to Detective Keller.”
Brooke looked at me.
“Will you help me?”
“With what?”
“Mom has nothing.”
“That isn’t true.”
“The house is gone.”
“She has clothes, jewelry, family, and the ability to work.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
Her face tightened.
“You have more money than you could spend.”
There it was.
The old assumption.
My money made everyone else’s choices my responsibility.
I stood.
“Then she should have thought about that before helping steal from me.”
Brooke started to speak.
I stopped her.
“And so should you.”
I left.
That evening, Samantha called with what sounded like good news.
The lender threatening my penthouse formally withdrew its claim after receiving forensic evidence of forgery.
My home was safe.
My company publicly confirmed I was not involved in financial misconduct.
The corporate board extended full support.
Ryan’s access to disputed marital accounts was restricted.
For one night, I thought the worst was over.
I ordered soup.
Sat beside the fireplace.
Felt my baby kicking.
Then someone knocked.
Marcus’s voice came through the intercom.
“Police.”
I opened the door.
Detective Keller stood there.
She looked serious.
“Claire, we need to talk.”
My heart sank.
“What now?”
“Ryan was released temporarily under monitored conditions after a court hearing related to the financial investigation.”
“Okay.”
“He disappeared.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“His monitoring device was found inside a vehicle near Aurora.”
“When?”
“About ninety minutes ago.”
I instinctively touched my stomach.
Keller saw it.
“We have officers downstairs.”
“Do you think he’s coming here?”
“We don’t know.”
Then my phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
One photograph.
The nursery inside my penthouse.
Taken from inside the room.
May you like
Underneath it, Ryan had written three words.
We need to talk.
