Chapter 12 - PLAN C
Claire left the ballroom with Maya and two security officers.
Brooke was sitting on Claire’s front steps when they arrived.
She looked destroyed.
No makeup.
Hair pulled back.
Hands shaking.
Claire stopped several feet away.
“Talk.”
Brooke looked at the security officers.
“Inside.”
“No.”
“Claire—”
“You lied to me for twelve years. You don’t get to choose where this conversation happens.”
Brooke swallowed.
Then handed her a flash drive.
“I went through Julian’s files.”
“You had access?”
“He gave me passwords.”
“Of course he did.”
Brooke flinched.
“There’s a folder called Plan C.”
Maya took the drive.
“What’s in it?”
Brooke looked at Claire.
“Medical records.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He was building the competency case.”
“We know.”
“No.”
Brooke shook her head.
“You know part of it.”
She began crying again.
“Three months ago Julian asked me to pick up pills.”
Claire stared.
“What pills?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“What pills?”
“Sedatives.”
Maya went still.
Brooke continued.
“He said you weren’t sleeping and Dr. Klein had prescribed them.”
“He didn’t.”
“I know that now.”
Claire’s voice dropped.
“What did Julian do with them?”
Brooke looked sick.
“He put them in your wine.”
Silence.
Claire remembered three months earlier.
A family dinner.
She had become dizzy before dessert.
Julian took her home.
The next morning he told her she had drunk too much.
Claire had been embarrassed.
She had apologized to everyone.
Brooke whispered, “He recorded you.”
Claire closed her eyes.
That was the video used in the competency filing.
Her slurred speech.
Her confusion.
Her father saying, Claire, sit down.
Her husband holding her upright.
They had drugged her.
Then filmed her.
Claire’s hands began shaking.
Maya asked, “What was Plan C?”
Brooke pointed to the flash drive.
“If the court didn’t grant control before the financing deadline, Julian wanted another incident.”
“When?”
Brooke looked toward Claire.
“Your birthday.”
Claire felt ice slide through her veins.
“The party?”
Brooke nodded.
“There was supposed to be champagne waiting at your seat.”
Claire remembered arriving late.
Remembered never touching the glass.
Brooke whispered, “He wanted you disoriented in front of the investors. Then Dad would call an ambulance. Dr. Klein would document another episode.”
Claire stared at her.
“And you knew?”
“Not until today.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
Brooke wiped her face.
“I don’t expect you to believe anything I say.”
For once, that sounded true.
A car approached.
Claire instinctively stepped back.
But it was Diane.
She parked crookedly and hurried toward them.
“Claire!”
Her mother looked terrified.
“What?”
Diane held up a small plastic evidence bag.
Inside was a champagne flute.
“I took this from the hotel.”
Maya stared.
“Why?”
“After you left your party, I saw Julian remove your glass.”
Claire’s heartbeat raced.
“I followed him into the service hallway.”
Diane’s voice broke.
“He poured it out.”
“But you kept the glass?”
“Yes.”
Maya took the bag carefully.
“We need a lab.”
Brooke suddenly looked toward the street.
A black SUV had stopped at the corner.
Claire recognized it.
Julian’s.
“He’s here,” Brooke whispered.
The vehicle accelerated toward them.
Security moved.
Claire stepped behind the porch column.
The SUV did not stop.
It jumped the curb.
Everyone scattered.
Metal slammed into Claire’s parked car.
Glass exploded.
The SUV reversed.
Claire caught one clear glimpse through the windshield.
May you like
Julian wasn’t driving.
Her father was.
