Chapter 8: The Things Peter Knew
Peter called three days after Evan did.
Claire didn't answer.
He left a voicemail.
She listened to it once, standing in the parking lot of Sophie's school after drop-off, the morning cold and flat around her.
*Claire, it's Peter.
I know you don't want to hear from me.
I understand that.
But I need you to know that I told the truth at the wedding.
Everything I said was true.
And there's more.
There's more that I didn't say because I didn't know how, and because — look, I'm not a good person.
I know that.
But I'm not Evan.
And there are things you need to know before this goes to the DA.
Please call me back.
Please.*
She forwarded the voicemail to Patricia.
Patricia called her back in an hour.
"He's scared.
He's trying to get ahead of whatever Evan might say about him.
But that doesn't mean what he has isn't real.
I'd like to meet with him.
With you present, if you're willing."
"What would be the point?"
"The point is that if Peter has additional evidence against Evan, we want it before Evan's lawyers bury it." A pause.
"He said there's more.
I believe him.
Scared men tell the truth."
Claire thought about it.
"Set it up," she said.
"Somewhere neutral."
They met in a conference room at Patricia's office the following afternoon.
Peter arrived early.
He looked like he hadn't slept.
His suit was the same one from the wedding, Claire noticed, now wrinkled at the elbows.
He sat down across from Claire and didn't try to shake her hand.
"Thank you for coming," he said.
"Talk," Claire said.
Peter put a USB drive on the table.
"The spreadsheet is on there," he said.
"The full version.
Not just the properties and the timeline.
The full version." He pushed it toward Patricia.
"There's a section on Sophie's medical history.
Her school records.
Her routine.
Where she went on Tuesdays.
Which park she liked."
Claire's stomach turned over.
"He was watching her," she said.
"Before he ever approached you," Peter said.
"He knew her pediatrician's name.
He knew which days you picked her up from daycare yourself and which days your sister did." He looked at the table.
"I told him it was too far.
He said it was due diligence."
"Due diligence," Claire repeated.
"I know."
"She was three years old when he started watching her."
"I know." Peter's voice was flat with something that might have been shame, if shame came that late and that quiet.
"I should have stopped it then.
I didn't."
Patricia picked up the drive.
"Is there anything else on here?"
"Emails.
Between Evan and a property lawyer in Carmel.
About the house.
About what it would sell for once the trust was dissolved.
There are dates on those emails." He looked at Claire.
"The first one is dated two weeks after Harold's funeral."
The room was very still.
"He started planning this at Harold's funeral," Claire said.
"He started planning it before.
The funeral was just when he first reached out to the property lawyer." Peter folded his hands on the table.
"I'm telling you this because I want a deal.
I know that's not a good reason.
But I'm also telling you because what he did to Sophie — what we did — " He stopped.
Started again.
"She's five.
She was at a wedding in a flower crown.
And she was a line item."
Claire looked at him for a long moment.
May you like
Then she looked at Patricia.
Patricia was already writing.
