Chapter 5 - The Woman Beside Me Knew More Than She Admitted

Monica was not Daniel Bennett's wife.

She was his widow.

That distinction mattered.

She had married him under another name before she became engaged to me.

And according to my father, she had once been part of the investigation into Desmond.

My head spun.

"You were married to Claire's brother?"

Monica nodded through tears.

"For eight months."

Claire stared at her.

"You knew Daniel."

"Yes."

"You knew he was investigating Blackridge."

"Yes."

"And you knew he disappeared?"

Monica closed her eyes.

"Yes."

Claire looked like she had been struck.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I thought he was dead."

My father stepped forward.

"Everyone thought he was."

I stared at him.

"Then why are you alive?"

He looked at me.

"Because Desmond tried to kill me."

"Why?"

"Because I found out about the fourth account."

Claire frowned.

"Fourth?"

My father nodded.

"The ledger has three physical pieces."

He looked at me.

"But there is a fourth key."

"What key?"

"A person."

I felt cold.

"Who?"

He looked at Claire.

"Her."

Claire shook her head.

"No."

"Your brother didn't trust computers."

"What does that mean?"

"He memorized the final transfer sequence."

I understood.

"Claire is the key."

She stared at my father.

"I don't remember."

"You were seventeen."

"I was never told."

"Your brother encoded it into a phrase you used as children."

Claire closed her eyes.

"What phrase?"

My father said:

"Bluebird."

She froze.

"Bluebird."

I looked at her.

She whispered:

"My brother called me that."

Then the lights went out.

Gunfire erupted.

My father shoved me down.

Claire screamed.

Monica disappeared behind a column.

Men entered through the side doors.

We fought our way out through the rear hall.

My father took a bullet in the shoulder.

Claire helped him.

"Stay with me."

He looked at her.

"You're the strongest one here."

She shook her head.

"I don't feel strong."

"You don't need to."

We reached the underground garage.

A car was waiting.

Evan.

I raised my gun.

He raised both hands.

"Don't shoot."

I stared.

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because Desmond just tried to kill me too."

I almost laughed.

"You expect me to believe that?"

He opened the driver's door.

"Get in."

My father climbed into the back.

We drove.

Five minutes later, Evan spoke.

"I've been stealing."

I stiffened.

"But not from you."

"Then who?"

"Desmond."

I looked at him.

"Why?"

"Because he threatened my mother."

"What mother?"

"Your mother's sister."

My father spoke from the back.

"Evan's mother was Desmond's first wife."

The secrets never ended.

Evan continued.

"I took the money to keep her safe."

I shook my head.

"You should have told me."

"I tried."

"When?"

"Every time I asked you to fire Desmond."

I remembered.

He had.

Repeatedly.

I had ignored him.

Evan looked at me.

"I knew if I told you everything, you'd go after him."

"And?"

"I couldn't risk you dying."

Silence filled the car.

Claire looked at Evan.

"Did you kill Daniel?"

"No."

She watched him.

"I believe you."

He looked surprised.

"So do I," my father said.

We arrived at a remote property.

There was a house.

One light.

No security.

Inside, my father showed us the original Blackridge ledger.

It had been hidden in the walls.

Claire touched the cover.

"This is it."

She opened it.

Names.

Payments.

The final section contained three initials.

R.M.

E.M.

C.B.

I frowned.

"C.B.?"

Claire stepped back.

"No."

My father looked at her.

"That is your brother's notation."

"What does it mean?"

He shook his head.

"We never decoded it."

Claire stared at the letters.

Then she remembered.

"Roman Mercer."

She looked at me.

"Evan Mercer."

Then herself.

"Claire Bennett."

The three people named.

Me.

Evan.

Claire.

The ledger had been designed to require all three.

A sound came from the hallway.

We turned.

Monica stood there.

She held a gun.

"I'm sorry."

I stared.

"Monica."

She cried.

"I can't let you open it."

Claire stepped toward her.

"Why?"

"Because Desmond has my daughter."

Silence.

I had never known Monica had a child.

She looked at me.

"She is six."

My father closed his eyes.

"Desmond took her three days ago."

I lowered my gun.

"Where?"

Monica whispered:

"Manhattan."

Desmond wanted the ledger.

The only way to get it was through all three of us.

That night, we made the decision.

We would go back.

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Not as victims.

As bait.