Chapter 4: The Woman Who Knew My First Wife
I read the message twelve times before I trusted myself to stand.
*Ask Vanessa what happened to Maya's mother.*
Laura had been dead for six years. I had watched doctors try to save her after a car accident on a rain-soaked highway outside Richmond. I had held Maya in the hospital corridor while a surgeon explained that her mother had suffered catastrophic injuries.
There had been no mystery.
No conspiracy.
At least, that was what I had believed.
I called Rebecca.
She answered immediately.
"Marcus, tell me you haven't gone to that warehouse.""
"I haven't.""
"Good. I've reviewed the custodial agreement you sent. The document needs to be authenticated, but the language is concerning. Don't contact Vanessa about it yet.""
"Someone just told me to ask her what happened to Laura.""
Rebecca went quiet.
"Your first wife?""
"Yes.""
"Did the message explain why?""
"No. But someone has a photograph of Vanessa with Daniel on the day the first transfer was made. Now they're telling me Laura's death is connected to all this.""
"Marcus, accusations like that can be used to manipulate you. We need evidence before we draw conclusions.""
"I know.""
"Then let me investigate the financial documents. And please, don't go anywhere alone tonight.""
I promised her I wouldn't.
I broke that promise before noon.
Not by going to the warehouse, but by driving to the private school where Maya had studied for three years.
I needed to know whether Vanessa had ever paid the tuition she claimed my daughter owed her.
The receptionist recognized me immediately.
"Mr. Carter! We weren't expecting you today.""
"I'm here about Maya's tuition account.""
She typed something into her computer.
"Of course. Let me bring up her records.""
I waited beside a display of student artwork. A painting of a yellow house hung at eye level. Someone had written My Happy Place beneath it in crooked blue letters.
Maya had painted a house like that once.
I'd kept it in my office.
The receptionist frowned at her screen.
"That's strange.""
"What?""
"Your daughter's account shows several outstanding administrative charges, but the tuition itself appears to have been paid through a separate arrangement.""
"What arrangement?""
She clicked through several pages.
"Northbridge Education Services.""
My stomach tightened.
"Who authorized that arrangement?""
"It was established last year. The file says the account was created by a parent or legal guardian.""
"Can I see the authorization?""
"I'm afraid I'll need our administrator's approval.""
"Then please get the administrator.""
Ten minutes later, a woman named Mrs. Patterson invited me into her office. She was in her fifties, with silver hair and a careful, practiced smile.
"Mr. Carter, I understand you're concerned about some charges.""
"I'm concerned about an organization using my daughter's name to move money.""
Her smile disappeared.
She closed the office door.
"Your wife told us there were complicated family circumstances. She asked that all financial correspondence go directly to her.""
"Did you ever contact me?""
"We sent several notices to the email address on file.""
"Which address?""
She read it aloud.
It wasn't mine.
It was a private email address I had never seen before.
I wrote it down.
"Mrs. Patterson, did anyone from Northbridge visit the school?""
She hesitated.
"One representative came in person last spring.""
"Who?""
"I don't remember his name. But he brought documents and asked questions about Maya's guardianship arrangements.""
"What kind of questions?""
"Whether you were still actively involved in her education. Whether your wife had authority to make financial decisions on your behalf. Whether there had been any change in your marital circumstances.""
I stared at her.
"Why would a school need that information?""
"It seemed unusual to us, too. But the representative presented legal paperwork.""
"Did you verify it?""
"We requested additional documentation. Your wife became upset and withdrew the request.""
I leaned forward.
"Did she say why?""
Mrs. Patterson opened a drawer and removed a thin folder.
"There's something else. I wasn't sure whether it was relevant, but I kept a copy of the correspondence.""
She placed a printed email on the desk.
It was from Vanessa.
The message read:
Please do not discuss Maya's financial arrangements with Marcus. He is unaware of the trust structure, and the matter is being handled privately. Contact me directly if any questions arise.
At the bottom was a sentence that made my skin prickle.
Given the circumstances surrounding Laura's death, I believe discretion is in everyone's best interests.
I looked up.
"Why would my wife's death have anything to do with school tuition?""
Mrs. Patterson shook her head.
"I don't know.""
I photographed the email and asked for a copy of the account history. She agreed to send it to Rebecca.
As I left, I noticed a woman standing near the reception desk.
She wore a beige coat and held a brown envelope against her chest. Her hair was shorter than I remembered, but there was no mistaking her face.
"Marcus?""
I stopped.
"Claire?""
Claire Bennett had been Laura's closest friend. She had attended our wedding, stayed with Maya during Laura's funeral, and disappeared from our lives less than a year later.
I'd assumed she had moved overseas.
She looked at the folder in my hand.
"You've been asking about Northbridge.""
"How do you know that?""
"Because Vanessa called me last night.""
My pulse quickened.
"What did she want?""
Claire glanced toward the receptionist.
"Not here.""
We stepped outside into the cold autumn air.
For several seconds, Claire said nothing. She watched cars move through the school parking lot, her fingers tightening around the envelope.
Then she looked directly at me.
"Did you ever wonder why Laura's accident happened on that particular road?""
"It was the fastest route home.""
"That night, Laura called me. She said she was frightened.""
I stared at her.
"You never told me that.""
"I wanted to. Vanessa contacted me before the funeral. She said Laura had been under tremendous stress and that you needed time to grieve. She told me not to burden you with anything Laura had said.""
"What exactly did Laura say?""
Claire opened the envelope.
Inside was a photocopy of a handwritten letter, dated three days before the accident.
I recognized Laura's handwriting immediately.
Claire handed it to me.
The first line read:
If anything happens to me, please make sure Marcus knows that the money isn't what he thinks it is.
My hands began to shake.
I read the sentence again.
Then I looked at Claire.
"Why are you showing me this now?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Because Vanessa called me last night and told me you'd found the notebook. She said if you started asking questions about Laura, she would make sure Maya was taken away from you.""
The parking lot seemed to go silent.
"Taken away how?""
"She didn't say. But Marcus, I need you to understand something. Laura didn't just leave behind a daughter. She left behind evidence.""
"What evidence?""
Claire looked over her shoulder.
Then she lowered her voice.
"A recording.""
Before I could ask another question, her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen and went pale.
"It's her.""
"Vanessa?""
Claire nodded.
The call stopped.
A text appeared.
Claire read it, then held the phone out to me.
*I know you're with Marcus. Give him the letter, and remember what happened to the last person who tried to interfere.*
I stared at the words.
May you like
Then Claire whispered the sentence that shattered everything I thought I knew about Laura's final days.
"Marcus, your wife wasn't the only woman who knew what was going to happen that night.""
