Chapter 8 - THE STORAGE UNIT
Eleven months after the casket night, Samantha called.
“I need you here.”
“Is Chloe okay?”
“Yes.”
“Julian?”
“This isn’t about Julian.”
A courier had delivered an envelope.
No return address.
Inside was a photograph.
Claire Hart.
Dark hair.
Thin.
Scar beneath her jaw.
Standing beside a newspaper.
The date was six weeks earlier.
I sat down.
“That’s impossible.”
Samantha had the image examined.
No obvious indication it was an old photograph with a substituted newspaper.
On the back:
I SAW CHLOE ON THE NEWS.
DO NOT LET JULIAN KNOW I’M ALIVE.
My hands shook.
Three days later came another package.
A brass key.
A storage-unit number in Wisconsin.
And:
JULIAN DIDN’T PUT ME IN THE WATER.
BUT HE KNOWS WHY I NEVER CAME HOME.
Through counsel and investigators, the storage unit was opened.
Inside:
Claire’s journals.
Financial records.
Old photographs.
A red suitcase I remembered from the weekend she vanished.
One journal entry:
I AM NOT RUNNING FROM CHLOE.
I AM TRYING TO GET FAR ENOUGH AWAY THAT JULIAN CANNOT USE HER TO BRING ME BACK.
Another:
DAD THINKS THE TRUST GIVES HIM THE RIGHT TO CONTROL CHLOE’S FUTURE.
JULIAN THINKS MARRIAGE GIVES HIM THE RIGHT TO CONTROL MINE.
I AM STUCK BETWEEN TWO MEN WHO CALL CONTROL PROTECTION.
Then the last entry before her disappearance:
I HAVE A WAY OUT.
SOMEONE IS HELPING ME.
IF IT WORKS, JULIAN WILL THINK I’M DEAD.
DAD WILL THINK I’M DEAD.
EVERYONE WILL.
I HATE WHAT THIS WILL DO TO CHLOE.
BUT IF I STAY, THEY WILL NEVER STOP USING HER TO CONTROL ME.
I closed the journal.
Claire had staged her own death.
Not yet proven how.
Not yet clear with whose help.
But she had chosen to let a small child believe her mother drowned.
Fear explained that.
It did not erase the harm.
Then Samantha found initials repeated throughout the journals.
M.V.
Not Monica Vale.
Timeline wrong.
Margaret Vale.
Former chief financial officer of Hart Medical Systems.
Richard Hart fired her five years earlier after she challenged undisclosed financial transactions.
Her lawsuit settled confidentially.
Then Margaret disappeared from public business life.
Two weeks later, Margaret walked into Samantha’s office.
Sixty-eight.
Silver hair.
Gray coat.
Leather folder.
“You helped Claire disappear?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“I’m not telling you yet.”
My anger rose.
“That is Chloe’s mother.”
“I know.”
“Chloe spent four years believing she was dead.”
“I know.”
“My son almost made Chloe disappear too.”
May you like
Margaret’s expression changed.
“That is why I came.”
