Chapter 4
Claire noticed me looking at the address.
“It's paperwork for the investment,” she said.
“Then I need to know what it is.”
“You won't understand until I explain it properly.”
“Start now.”
She took a breath.
“I bought a small property with a friend. We planned to renovate it and sell it.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“Was that what the fifty-one thousand dollar loan paid for?”
“Part of it.”
She sat at the dining table and opened the folder. The property was a two-bedroom condo across town. Claire's name appeared on the purchase records beside a woman's name I didn't recognize.
The loan she'd paid with Maya's money was separate. Claire had borrowed it for the down payment and repairs.
“Has the condo sold?” I asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“My partner wanted to wait for a better offer.”
“Who is your partner?”
“Dana Mercer.”
I looked at the records. Dana's name appeared on a few documents, but Claire had received most of the loan notices. She had taken on a risk without telling me while using money from our household account to carry it.
“How much is the condo worth now?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“Who lives there?”
“No one,” Claire said.
I heard her answer too quickly.
“I want the full records. The purchase, the payments, and any income.”
She closed the folder.
“It's my investment.”
“You paid its debt with Maya's college fund.”
Claire gripped the folder but didn't take it away. That was the first sign she understood this could no longer be a private project.
I called a lawyer that afternoon. His name was Mr. Grant. Leah had worked with him on a family matter years before. He listened to the basic facts and arranged to see me the next morning.
He told me to bring copies of the accounts and avoid taking money from Claire's personal funds myself, however tempting that might feel. I wanted a path to getting Maya's money restored, not another fight over who moved what.
Maya agreed to come with me. The fund was for her, and she wanted to understand what happened.
Mr. Grant spoke to her directly.
“You may have questions about school and timing,” he said. “Ask them. Your father and I can work on the financial details.”
“Can the money be recovered?”
“I can't promise the whole amount today. We can trace where it went and pursue repayment.”
Maya folded her hands in her lap.
“My mom left part of that money.”
“I understand.”
Rachel had saved every spare dollar she could while she was alive. After she died, I put what she'd left for Maya into the fund and continued adding to it. Claire had known that for eleven years.
Mr. Grant asked us to document the source of the money, the withdrawal, the car purchase, and the loan payment. He also wanted to know whether Claire had other assets that might be used to repay the account.
I showed him the condo records.
He studied the address.
“We'll find out her interest in it,” he said.
After the meeting, Maya and I ate lunch together. It was the first time we'd been alone since the party. She pushed a french fry around her plate.
“Why did she choose Brooke?”
I couldn't give her an answer that would make it hurt less.
“Claire wanted the car. Brooke didn't know where the money came from.”
“I know Brooke didn't. Claire still thought her birthday mattered more than my future.”
“You're right to feel that way.”
Maya looked at me.
“Don't ask me to forgive her because we're a family.”
“I won't.”
She wiped her eyes and went back to eating.
That evening, I drove past the condo. I didn't go inside or approach anyone. I wanted to see what Claire had described as an empty investment.
Lights were on in an upstairs window.
A bicycle stood beside the entrance. There was a plant on the balcony.
Someone was living there.
I called Mr. Grant before calling Claire. He asked me to write down what I'd observed and let him request the records that would tell us whether the property was rented.
Claire was in the kitchen when I got home.
“Someone lives at the condo,” I said.
She put down her cup.
“Dana has a tenant.”
“You said no one lived there.”
“I meant we don't live there.”
“Does the tenant pay rent?”
“Dana handles that.”
“Do you receive any?”
Claire stared at the table.
“No.”
“Then where does it go?”
She stood so abruptly the chair scraped the floor.
“I don't know.”
May you like
For the first time, I thought she might be telling me the truth. The look on her face was fear, but it wasn't fear of being caught by me.
She was afraid of what her partner had done.
