Chapter 11 - THE UNCLE BEHIND THE CURTAIN
Claire answered on speaker.
"Sweetheart," Samuel said warmly, "I heard about the gala. Are you safe?"
Richard's hands curled into fists.
Claire forced her voice to stay calm. "I'm scared. I don't know who to trust."
"Come to my house. Alone."
Grace silently wrote on a pad: KEEP HIM TALKING.
"Why alone?"
"Because Richard will use this chaos to control you. He always does."
Margaret's warning echoed in Claire's mind.
Do not trust my brother.
Samuel continued, "Bring the brass key. Your mother wanted me to protect what is in that box."
Claire looked at the empty space where the key had once hung from her neck.
"I still have it," she lied.
They set the meeting for noon.
Federal agents surrounded Samuel's lake house, but the place looked deserted. Claire entered wearing a wire beneath her blouse.
Samuel waited in the library.
He was the same gentle man who had mailed her birthday cards, attended her graduation, and walked her down the aisle when Richard pretended to be only a family friend.
"My brave girl," he said.
Claire did not hug him.
"Did you arrange my kidnapping?"
His smile faded.
"Thomas was supposed to frighten Richard, not keep you for three days."
Claire felt the room tilt.
"You used me."
"I saved the company from your father's reckless obsession with justice."
"You sold Mom's secrets."
"Margaret was sentimental. She wanted to expose everyone."
Samuel reached for a drawer.
Claire stepped back. "Don't."
He opened it anyway.
Inside lay the missing pages of the ledger—and a detonator.
"The agents outside have thirty seconds to leave," he said, "or the lake house becomes your mother's final grave too."
Claire stared at him.
"What do you mean, final grave?"
May you like
Samuel smiled.
"Your mother didn't die in a car accident.
