Daniel interrupted.
“Let’s not do this here.”
“Why not?”
“Because people are watching.”
I looked around.
Passengers were walking past.
Nobody seemed interested.
“You were comfortable humiliating me in front of strangers last night.”
His jaw tightened.
“That was a joke.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“It wasn’t.”
My father finally spoke.
“Daniel.”
Daniel froze.
He had always been intimidated by my father.
Not because my father was loud.
He wasn’t.
He was quiet.
Successful.
And extremely difficult to manipulate.
“Mr. Whitmore.”
My father looked at him.
“Did you buy your wife a coach ticket?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Did you know she was seven months pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know there were no seats?”
“I didn’t know it would be that crowded.”
My father nodded.
“And you and your sister had first class?”
Daniel’s face reddened.
“It was the only thing available.”
My father looked at Vanessa.
“Both tickets?”
Vanessa looked away.
My father smiled without humor.
“Interesting.”
Daniel immediately became defensive.
“Claire could have sat in first class if she wanted. I wasn’t stopping her.”
I stared at him.
“You told me not to come up there.”
His expression changed.
Vanessa looked at him.
“You said what?”
Daniel said nothing.
I continued.
“You told me first class was for paying customers.”
My father’s eyes narrowed.
“And you laughed when she stood?”
Daniel looked embarrassed now.
“It was a joke.”
My father nodded.
“Of course.”
Then he reached into his coat.
He handed Daniel a document.
Daniel stared at it.
“What is this?”
“Read it.”
Daniel unfolded the papers.
His face changed.
First confusion.
Then disbelief.
Then fear.
“What…”
He looked at me.
“Claire?”
I didn’t answer.
He looked at the document again.
“This is the townhouse.”
“Yes.”
“Why is there a notice here?”
“Because we’re terminating your access.”
His face went pale.
“What?”
My father calmly said,
“The property belongs to Claire’s trust.”
Daniel stared at him.
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You told me we owned that house.”
“I never told you that.”
“You let me believe it!”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Claire, don’t be petty.”
I turned toward her.
“Petty?”
She looked at me defiantly.
“You’re really going to throw your husband out because of a train ride?”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I’m not throwing him out because of a train ride.”
I looked at Daniel.
“I’m throwing him out because the train ride showed me who he really was.”
Daniel’s face went blank.
My father stepped forward.
“And there’s more.”
Daniel looked at him.
“What more?”
My father pulled another folder from his briefcase.
“This is a financial audit.”
Daniel’s eyes widened.
“You audited me?”
“No.”
My father looked at Claire.
“She did.”
Daniel stared at me.
I nodded.
“I started looking at our accounts two months ago.”
“Why?”
“Because you started asking questions about my trust.”
His face changed again.
“I was your husband.”
“You were.”
The word landed harder than I expected.
Daniel stared at me.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His bank.
He answered.
“Hello?”
He listened.
His expression slowly collapsed.
“What do you mean?”
Vanessa looked nervous.
Daniel stepped away.
“What account?”
He listened again.
Then whispered,
“No.”
I knew immediately.
My father looked at me.
I nodded.
Daniel ended the call.
“What did you do?”
His voice was shaking.
“I froze the joint accounts.”
“You can’t do that!”
“I can.”
“That money is mine!”
“No.”
I held his gaze.
“It isn’t.”
He looked toward Vanessa.
She suddenly seemed terrified.
“Daniel…”
He ignored her.
He stepped toward me.
“You can’t destroy my life because you got upset on a train.”
I took one slow breath.
“You’re right.”
His face changed.
For one second, hope appeared.
Then I continued.
“I don’t have to.”
He stared at me.
“You’ve been destroying it yourself.”
And for the first time since I’d met him, Daniel had no clever answer.
But neither of us knew yet that the financial audit had uncovered something far worse than a neglected pregnant wife.
Something that would turn our divorce into a criminal investigation.
And that discovery would begin with a bank transfer made three weeks earlier.
A transfer Daniel thought I would never find.
A transfer for $184,000.
Sent to an account bearing a woman’s name.
A name I had never heard before.
Until that morning.
My father opened the folder.
“Claire,” he said quietly.
“You need to see this.”
PART 4
My father opened the folder.
“Claire,” he said quietly, “you need to see this.”
I took the papers from his hand.
The first page was a bank statement.
At the top was Daniel’s name.
Underneath it was an account number I didn’t recognize.
Then I saw the transfer.
$184,000.
The date was three weeks earlier.
The recipient’s name was printed beneath it.
Marlene Hayes.
I read the name twice.
“Who is Marlene Hayes?”
Daniel went completely still.
Vanessa looked at him.
“Daniel?”
He didn’t answer.
