by Robin Mahle
The doorman allowed Claire into Evan’s building. Its grey-tiled walls and concrete-stained floors were accented by drum-shaped, red hanging light fixtures reminiscent of the 1960s. She continued to the front desk where a twenty-something woman waited.
“May I help you?”
“Yes. I was told to collect some belongings for one of your tenants, Mr. Evan Winters? I’m his assistant, Sheri Bainbridge.”
The young woman suddenly turned flush. “Yes, of course. I can help you with that. I’m very sorry to hear what happened to Mr. Winters.”
“We were all very shocked.” It seemed everyone had been watching the news and the questioning of a corporate giant of suspected fraud was always a good story. “Here’s my card. If you’d like, I can call Mr. Winters’ lawyer as confirmation of my task.”
The woman glanced at Sheri’s business card. “That won’t be necessary, Ms. Bainbridge. I’ll have maintenance accompany you to his apartment.”
“I actually have a key.”
“Then you also have the code to open the elevator doors on his floor?” The woman asked.
The only code that swirled through her head wasn’t for the elevator. Damn it. She was sure Sheri had given it to her, but her nerves were on edge and she just couldn’t recall it. “You know, maybe maintenance should come with me. I might need help with a few things.”
Claire watched the anxious woman glancing around at the people, presumably other tenants, meandering around. She figured the last thing this woman wanted was for any of them to hear a discussion of lawyers or law enforcement about a tenant who’d been arrested. “Thank you so much for your help. I’m sure Mr. Winters will be appreciative of your discretion.”
Within minutes, a man approached the desk. “You asked for me?” he said to the woman.
“Yes, can you show Ms. Bainbridge to Mr. Winters’ apartment? She’s his assistant and needs to gather a few of this things.”
“Certainly.” The man looked at Claire. “Please, follow me.”
Claire checked her watch. It was already 3:15. She had to get into his apartment quickly. There was no telling when Evan would be released. But she knew this would be the first place he’d go. Where else was there? The office building had been taken over by FBI, his boat was seized and taken from the marina, and, so far as she knew, or what Sheri had told her, this was his primary residence. She followed the maintenance man into the elevator.
“I’m not surprised about what happened to Mr. Winters,” the man started. “The guy always struck me as a slippery sort of fella. Not that he’s the only one in this building like that.”
Claire didn’t want to say anything more. She needed to get inside and her heart was pounding right through her chest.
The elevator stopped on the thirty-second floor, but before the doors would open, the man had to insert the key and punch in a code on the keypad above the panel of buttons. 35812. Claire made a mental note as she played off her glance.
“Here we are.” The man walked through the doors that opened directly into the apartment. “Is there anything else I can help you with? Would you like me to wait here for you?”
“No, thank you. I think I’ll be fine. I don’t plan on staying for very long.”
“Fair enough. If you do need anything, just press this button.” He pointed to the intercom next to the elevator. “It’ll ring the front desk.” The man stepped back inside and tipped his head as the doors closed in front of him.
“Now what?” Claire scanned the huge apartment. The open-floor plan revealed the living room, kitchen, and an office. A short hallway on the right led to the main bathroom and two bedrooms. Most of the main living area was walled on one side by giant glass that spanned from floor to ceiling. A balcony wrapped around the area and led out to the view of the Sound. She began to wonder how much of this was built on deception.
Moving quickly to the master bedroom, Claire switched on the light in the walk-in closet. Behind rows and rows of expensive-looking suits was a safe. Sheri had the keypad combination for this safe in which Claire had committed to memory, unlike the code to get into the apartment. She entered the six-digit number. A few clicks and the door swung open. Inside were what appeared to be valuable watches, rings, and other pieces of jewelry, but what she was really interested in was the document or documents that listed the foreign bank account numbers.
Towards the back of the safe was a small, separate compartment; barely visible as it blended into the black velvet lining. Inside that compartment were two envelopes. Claire removed them, dumping the contents of the first into the palm of her hand. The pictures.
Evan had printed out the pictures that were to be used to blackmail her. It seemed he was keeping them in the event she decided to renege on their deal. Of course, that was before the raid. She shoved them back into the envelope and tucked it into her pants.
Claire opened the other envelope and inside was what she needed. Bank account numbers and the dummy companies he’d set up to funnel the money through. It seemed not only was he planning on inflating the value of the company shares, but he was also taking a portion of the money that had come in from Envirotech. Evan and Paul Higgins were in it together. Both were signatories on the accounts and each owned two of the entities used to launder the money. How many side deals did this man have? It seemed he’d set himself up pretty well. She quickly pulled out her cell phone and snapped pictures of the documents, ensuring the information was easily discernible. Time was running out and she had to close up and get the hell out of there.
She shoved the papers back inside the envelope and replaced it in the compartment, closing the safe behind her. When she got back to her feet, they almost failed her. The fear and adrenaline rushing through her body worked to send her head faint. It’s almost over, Claire. Just leave.
Regaining her balance, she left the closet and headed back towards the hallway, stopping short as she heard the elevator doors open. Claire quickly ducked into the secondary bedroom when the voice began.
“Yes, I’m here now, but I’m pretty sure I’m not alone.” Evan ended the call on his cell phone. “Why don’t you come on out, Claire, and let’s have a chat.”
***
Detective Vance arrived at the McKenna’s home as soon as he could after receiving the call from Sanchez. After trying Claire’s personal cell phone countless times, Colin realized she had decided to take matters into her own hands. His panicked call to Sanchez prompted Vance’s immediate response.
“Come in,” Colin said. “Do you know where she is yet?”
“No, Mr. McKenna. We’re working on it, though.”
“Oh my God. What the hell are you doing, Claire?” Colin paced the foyer, confused and angry. “You have to find her. Please, Detective.”
“Mr. McKenna, I promise you that we’re working on it. Winters was just released and Sanchez believes he will return to his apartment downtown. It’s the only place the FBI hasn’t searched. Not yet. Both he and Huffman are headed down there now.”
“And you think Claire has gone there too? Why would she do that?” Colin stopped dead. “She knows where he lives?” A sudden burst of jealousy erupted in his chest. “How would she know that unless she had been there before?” He was looking at Vance, but his eyes went right through him as if the man wasn’t there at all. “She was on that boat with him yesterday too.”
Claire had told Colin last night that she felt there was no choice but to go along with him. He was furious at her for going back on her word that she would not be left alone with Evan, but was so relieved that she was okay, it seemed not to matter. But now, he was second-guessing his own reaction. The conclusion he’d drawn turned him from a man filled with worry to a man filled with a sense of betrayal, once again. Had she lied about what happened in Portland?
“Colin, don’t do this. Claire is in trouble and they are going to find her. Don’t let jealousy get the best of you. She’s trying to solve this problem on her own, for reasons I ho
nestly can’t understand. But that doesn’t mean you should abandon her now.”
Colin sat down on the steps, unsure of what to believe. Sanchez had made it pretty clear that Winters was setting her up, but was she planning on confronting the man? The thought of her in danger, though, was battling against the suspicion swirling inside him.
“Is Mom okay?” Anna stood at the top of the stairs now.
“She’s fine, honey. Why don’t you stay upstairs while I talk to the police officer?”
Anna retreated as her father instructed.
“Colin, she needs you now, more than ever.” Detective Vance moved towards the steps. “I have never met a stronger woman than Claire. She has risked her life not only for Beth Graves, but for your family too. She has taken on a very powerful man when others would have turned and run. Now, I’m not saying that her leaving like this was a good idea. It most certainly wasn’t, but her intentions are there. We just need to get her out safely. Your wife is risking her life presumably to prove her innocence. Don’t think she’s turned against you or your family. Mr. McKenna, do you understand what I’m telling you?”
***
Claire remained still, plastered against the bedroom wall. How he knew she was there baffled her, but more importantly, why was he there so soon? Why hadn’t Sanchez called her to say he’d been released? It seemed they still hadn’t had enough to bring about charges and her time was almost up.
“I see Sheri gave you her code to get into the safe,” Evan began, his steps moving closer to Claire. “What you may not know is that my safe sends a signal every time it’s accessed and I receive that via text message. I must confirm that access was granted or the police will arrive within minutes. And of course, Sheri had her own code, so it was easy to decipher who had opened it. You just can’t trust anyone, can you, Claire? She was a good employee, always seemed to have my back, until you came along.”
Claire could hear his steps echoing on the wood floor of the hallway.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, you know. The raid was a setback, but only a temporary one. They obviously have nothing on me or I wouldn’t be standing here right now. This doesn’t have to be the end of it for us, though, Claire.”
The hard lump in her throat pained her to swallow, but she did and then stepped out into the hall. Evan stood only feet from her. “If something happens to me, Sheri knows what to do and you’ll have nothing left, Evan.”
His eyes narrowed and a wicked smile spread across his face. “Well now, you have been busy, Claire, haven’t you?”
“I will take every last dime from you, Evan. You’ll have no one left on your side. Not even Paul Higgins. How do you think he will react when the FBI starts combing through his files? They’re already searching his bank accounts. From what I understand, the people you entrusted are already lining up to talk.”
Evan took three steps forward. “How do you propose to take my money, Claire?”
Whatever strength she had was starting to wane and she needed him to believe in her resolve. “I had a nice long talk with Sheri and filled her in on all you’ve been up to. She wanted to help me and, in fact, was glad to help me. Seems she already believed you were less than honest in your business dealings.” They stood only a few feet apart now.
“Sheri told me about your offshore accounts and where you kept the documentation for them. You must have entrusted her a great deal to keep that sort of information. She knows that I’m here and, unless I call her to let her I’m back at home, safe and sound, she’ll tell the police about them. They’ll be seized just like your other accounts.”
“So you came here to get the account numbers and to withdraw the money? How would you have explained that to the FBI? Almost two million dollars suddenly appearing in your hands?”
“No. I came here for the pictures. So what now, Evan? Obviously, I’m here on my own. Defenseless.”
Evan eyed her up and down. “Yes, well, it does seem you’ve hit a bit of a snag. I’m sure you thought you’d be long gone before I arrived.”
It was near impossible for her to consider what she might have to do next. He wasn’t going to let her go. Maybe in the physical sense—maybe. But he was always going to be hanging over her like a black ominous cloud.
“I did. But that doesn’t matter. We’re here now, alone. Isn’t this what you’ve wanted all along? To get me alone?” She turned and looked towards the bedroom. “You won’t need to slip anything in my drink this time.” She loathed speaking to him so seductively, but it was the only way to get his guard down. If, in fact, she still held sway over him at all.
His brow furrowed.
“Yes, I know about that.” She moved in and pressed her body against his. “Maybe this was really my plan? You and me, lots of money waiting in Brazil, and no worries. I can still make that happen.” She began kissing his neck, praying that he would give into her. Claire needed to use his desire to her benefit.
Evan appeared to surrender control for a moment, then grabbed her shoulders hard, pulling her away, trying to read her. In one swift move, he yanked her close again, pressing his lips firmly against hers. His kiss was hard and full of passion. He thrust his tongue into her mouth.
Her arms slid around his waist, squeezing him so he would know that she wanted it as much as he did. He turned and pressed her up against the wall. The weight of his body made it difficult for her to find breath.
“Stop,” she whispered in his ear.
He pulled away, and the look in his eyes began to change, to turn against her.
Claire quickly took his hand and led him to the bedroom. She had never been more afraid in her life. The thought of letting this man touch her any further was sickening. She crawled onto the bed and prayed that her eyes wouldn’t betray her true feelings as she looked at him, waiting.
The man was full of a zealous rage and the opportunity to finally get the woman he wanted was too great to bring himself to stop.
Not yet, wait.
He climbed on top of her and, in a ravenous fit, pulled away at her clothes, exposing her breasts.
Wait.
Claire bent her knees and slid her hands down his sides. She pulled one of her shoes off.
He began kissing her stomach, squeezing her breasts with his hands.
Now!
With her right hand, she reached into her sock. Inside was a small letter opener. In one smooth motion, she raised it over the back of him and plunged it deep into his neck.
He reared up as blood began spilling from his throat, onto her stomach. Evan’s face was masked in shock and, as his eyes focused on hers, they grew clear with the recognition of what she’d done. His mouth opened wide, but he could not speak as the blood pooled against his tongue and finally poured out onto her.
She screamed and shoved him off.
His body tumbled to the floor, hands grasping at his throat, gurgling sounds escaping his mouth. The thin metal lance was visible atop his tongue.
Claire scrambled to the end of the bed, pulling her top around her as she watched Evan writhing in pain. His eyes were no longer consumed by passion, but by fear—fear of imminent death. She stood over him, watching him die, as her body trembled and her stomach turned.
His hands fell from his throat and his body grew still. The life had left his eyes, but continued their empty stare into nothing. Claire collapsed to her knees, and began sobbing deep and heavy tears, not because she regretted her actions, but because she knew it was finally over and she and her family would be safe.
He could no longer control her and had underestimated her desire for him; desire to see him suffer for what he’d done to her and her family, to Beth, and what she knew he’d done to Charlie.
Claire wiped away the blood from her face and neck, moving to the dresser mirror to see the horror of her actions. As she stared at the red streaks that were smeared until they looked almost pink against her skin, the tears forged their way through, leaving a trail of salty-white in their wa
ke.
CHAPTER 24
SEVERAL MINUTES HAD passed, although Claire had no idea how many. Time had frozen. Her eyes hadn’t left the now still, lifeless man whom she had just killed. It hadn’t fully registered; the fact that she’d taken a life, but he would not have allowed her to leave unharmed in one way or another. She was sure of it, wasn’t she?
Blood continued to spread from beneath his body, flowing across the hardwood floor. Some seeped into the cracks, creating tiny streams that reached for her, like fingers. Claire remained perched on her knees in the farthest corner of the room.
“FBI!” Agent Sanchez, with his gun drawn, shouted into the empty living room.
Huffman scanned the area, gun held firmly in his hands, and stepped off the elevator behind him.
The loud, familiar voice forced her mind to reemerge from behind the walls it had quickly erected, blocking out the trauma. “In here.” The words barely discernible, she cleared her throat and tried again. “In here. I’m in here!”
Footsteps traveled swiftly down the hall and Sanchez was the first to witness the horrific scene. “Oh my God! Are you okay, Claire?” He rushed towards her, carefully avoiding the body.
“Holy shit.” Huffman surveyed the room, placing his gun back into its holster.
“You’re fine, you’re fine, Claire,” Sanchez began. “Can you hear me? Do you know who I am?”
“Yes. Yes, I can hear you, Gordon.”
He lifted her from the ground, supporting her unsteady legs. “I’ve got you. Come on; let’s get you out of here.” Sanchez led her around the body. “Get her some water and call Detective Vance,” he said to Huffman, who still appeared mesmerized.
Claire hung on to Gordon’s arm as he helped her to the couch. Sanchez spotted the small throw blanket lying in the corner chair and tossed it gently over her shoulders. He said nothing more until Huffman returned with a glass of water.
