Chapter 5: What Gerald Knew
Gerald Fitch had the kind of face that gave nothing away in courtrooms.
Adrian had always admired that about him.
Thirty years of legal work for the Westwood family, and the man had never once looked rattled.
He looked rattled now.
"You should hear me out before you make any calls," Gerald said.
"Then talk fast."
Gerald glanced toward the staircase.
Voices drifted down from the upper floor — Natalie's, low and tense, and Madison's, rising.
"Can we go somewhere private?"
"No."
Gerald set his briefcase on the hall table.
He didn't open it.
He just rested his hands on top of it, like he needed something solid beneath them.
"I received a call from Madison the night of the accident," he said.
"After midnight.
She told me there had been a crash on the Lake Forest road.
She told me Claire was g\*ne." He paused.
"She also told me that if the circumstances of that evening were examined too closely, it would expose her relationship with Caleb.
And certain financial arrangements she and Caleb had made together."
Adrian went still.
"What financial arrangements."
"Over the course of eighteen months, Caleb had transferred funds from a Westwood subsidiary account into a private holding company.
Madison was a co-signatory." Gerald's voice was steady, practiced.
"The amounts were significant.
Claire had discovered the transfers approximately six weeks before her d\*ath.
She had retained her own attorney."
"She was going to expose them."
"She was going to expose all of it.
The affair.
The transfers.
Everything." Gerald looked at Adrian directly for the first time.
"She called me the week before she d\*ed.
She asked me to recommend a litigation attorney.
I told her I'd look into it.
I didn't."
The hall was very quiet.
"Because Madison called you first," Adrian said.
"Because Madison called me first."
Adrian looked at the man who had sat across from him at Claire's funeral.
Who had reviewed the estate documents.
Who had shaken his hand and said *she was a remarkable woman* and meant nothing by it at all.
"What did she ask you to do?"
"To manage it.
To make sure the police inquiry stayed narrow.
To ensure that any financial records connected to the subsidiary were — reorganized — before anyone thought to look at them." Gerald's hands pressed harder on the briefcase.
"I told myself it was protecting the family.
That Claire's d\*ath was an accident regardless.
That exposing everything would only cause more pain."
"And the witness?
Donna Reyes?"
Gerald's eyes closed briefly.
"That was my error in judgment."
"Forty thousand dollars is a significant error in judgment."
"Yes."
"Did you know it wasn't an accident?" Adrian asked.
"Did you know what Madison did to Claire's car?"
The question landed in the room like something dropped from a height.
Gerald looked up sharply.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Then let me be direct." Adrian took one step closer.
"Claire's tires were checked obsessively.
She would not have driven into a guardrail on a road she knew in a storm she hated unless something was wrong with that car.
And Madison was heard saying *it's already done* before Claire left that road." He watched Gerald's face.
"So I'm asking you again.
Did you know?"
Gerald's mouth opened.
Before he could answer, footsteps came down the stairs fast.
Natalie appeared at the top of the landing.
"Adrian." Her voice was tight.
"Madison's gone."
Adrian turned.
"What do you mean gone?"
"I went to get water from the bathroom.
She was out the window.
There's a trellis on the east side — she's done it before, she knew the house—" Natalie's hands gripped the banister.
"Her phone is still on the floor.
She left it.
Adrian, she left her phone behind on purpose."
Adrian looked at Gerald.
Gerald looked at his briefcase.
"Open it," Adrian said.
Gerald didn't move.
"Open the briefcase, Gerald."
Gerald's hands lifted from the top.
He unlatched it slowly.
Inside, beneath a legal folder, was a burner phone.
The screen showed one sent message from forty minutes ago.
*He has the ring.
Get out of the city tonight.*
May you like
The recipient was listed only as a single letter.
*C.*
