Claire turned sharply.
Chapter 3
PART 3 - THE WRONG WOMAN IN THE COFFIN AND THE MISSING MEMORY CARD
1,572 words
Jonathan looked toward the tablet.
“Your life policy is unusual.”
“You mean the amount.”
“I mean its origin.”
Claire waited.
Jonathan drew a slow breath.
“The policy was created by Margaret.”
“That makes no sense. My mother was barely surviving when I was a child.”
“She did not fund it. Atlantic Shield did.”
“Why?”
“It was part of an agreement.”
“What agreement?”
Before Jonathan could answer, Marcus lifted a hand.
“Something is happening.”
He increased the volume on the tablet.
Ethan stood near the cathedral steps, speaking to a reporter.
Vanessa was nowhere in sight.
A young man in a gray coat approached Ethan from behind and whispered into his ear.
Ethan’s posture stiffened.
“What did he say?” Claire asked.
Marcus replayed the audio and filtered the surrounding noise.
The young man’s voice emerged.
“The coffin is not empty.”
Claire stopped breathing.
On the screen, Ethan turned slowly.
“What?”
“The
funeral director checked it before the service,” the man said. “There is something inside.”
Ethan glanced toward the cathedral entrance.
“What kind of something?”
“He would not say. He wants more money.”
Ethan pushed through the doors.
Vanessa followed from the side of the building.
Marcus changed camera angles.
Inside the cathedral, most guests had departed. The priest was speaking with an elderly couple near the rear pews. The funeral director stood beside the coffin, pale and sweating.
Ethan marched toward him.
“What did you put in there?”
The director raised both hands.
“I did not put anything inside.”
“You sealed it.”
“My staff did.”
“Open it.”
The funeral director looked toward the remaining guests.
“Mr. Bennett—”
“Open it now.”
Claire looked at Jonathan.
“Did your people put something in the coffin?”
“No.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Neither did mine.”
On the screen, the funeral director reluctantly unlocked the coffin’s
brass clasps.
Vanessa stood behind Ethan, gripping his arm.
The lid opened.
For several seconds, no one moved.
Then Vanessa screamed.
Inside the coffin lay a woman.
She wore a pale blue dress.
Her dark hair was arranged around her shoulders.
Her face was partially covered by a white veil.
Claire leaned toward the screen, unable to make sense of what she was seeing.
The woman’s hands had been folded over her chest.
Between them rested a photograph.
Ethan reached inside and lifted it.
The camera zoomed closer.
It was a picture of Margaret Bennett.
On the back, written in black ink, were six words:
YOU BURIED THE WRONG WOMAN BEFORE.
Jonathan stood so quickly that his head struck the limousine ceiling.
“Marcus, get inside that church.”
Marcus was already opening the door.
Claire grabbed his sleeve.
“Who is she?”
“We do not know.”
“Find out before Ethan removes anything.”
Marcus stepped into the snow and ran across the street with two security officers following him.
Inside the church, Ethan tore the veil away.
The woman in the coffin was not Claire.
She appeared to be in her late fifties. A thin scar crossed her left cheek, and a dark bruise circled her throat.
The funeral director stumbled backward.
“I have never seen her before.”
Vanessa stared at the dead woman.
“I have.”
Ethan turned toward her.
“What?”
Vanessa’s lips trembled.
“She came to my apartment three months ago.”
“Why?”
“She asked questions about Claire.”
“What questions?”
“She wanted to know whether Claire had found a key.”
Claire felt the air leave her lungs.
Ethan seized Vanessa’s arm.
“Why did you not tell me?”
“Because I thought she was confused. She said her name was Eleanor.”
Jonathan sank back into his seat.
“Eleanor Shaw.”
Claire looked at him.
“You know her.”
“She worked with your mother at Halcyon.”
“Was she part of the fraud?”
“No. She helped Margaret collect evidence.”
On the screen, Ethan stared at the dead woman as though she might suddenly sit up.
Then the cathedral doors opened.
Marcus entered with his team.
Ethan immediately straightened.
“Who are you?”
Marcus displayed an identification card.
“Atlantic Shield Special Investigations.”
Ethan’s expression tightened.
“This is a private funeral.”
“It became an active crime scene when a body was discovered inside your wife’s coffin.”
“My wife’s body was never recovered.”
“Then why did you hold a funeral?”
Ethan glanced toward the cameras still positioned near the rear of the church.
“Because I needed closure.”
Marcus looked into the coffin.
“Eleanor Shaw may have needed the same.”
Ethan’s eyes flickered.
“You know her?”
“We know enough to advise you not to touch anything else.”
Vanessa took a step away from Ethan.
He noticed.
“Stay here.”
“I need air.”
“You are not leaving.”
Marcus looked between them.
“Neither of you is leaving.”
Ethan laughed nervously.
“On whose authority?”
A new voice answered from the church entrance.
“Mine.”
Two Denver police detectives entered, followed by uniformed officers.
For the first time since Claire had known him, Ethan appeared uncertain.
Not frightened.
Not yet.
But uncertain.
Detective Lena Ortiz approached the coffin and studied Eleanor’s body.
“No one leaves until every person here has been identified.”
Ethan pointed toward Marcus.
“This man contaminated the scene.”
Marcus remained calm.
“I entered after the coffin was opened. The church security recording will confirm that.”
Ortiz turned toward Ethan.
“And why was it opened?”
Ethan hesitated.
“The funeral director said something was inside.”
The director stared at him.
“That is not what happened.”
Every head turned.
The funeral director swallowed.
“Mr. Bennett ordered me to open it because one of his associates told him the coffin was not empty.”
Ethan’s face darkened.
The young man in the gray coat was no longer inside the church.
Marcus noticed immediately.
He touched the earpiece beneath his collar.
“Find the messenger.”
Outside, Jonathan’s second security team spread across the street.
Claire watched every camera angle at once.
The young man was gone.
But a motorcycle near the alley roared to life.
“There,” Claire said.
Jonathan took the tablet.
A helmeted rider sped away behind the cathedral.
One of Jonathan’s vehicles followed.
Inside the church, Detective Ortiz questioned Vanessa separately.
“How did you know the deceased?”
Vanessa looked toward Ethan.
He gave her a warning stare.
She lowered her eyes.
“I did not.”
“You said you did.”
“I was mistaken.”
Ortiz glanced at the cameras.
“We have audio.”
Vanessa’s face drained.
Ethan stepped forward.
“She is in shock.”
“Mr. Bennett, move back.”
“She has just buried her closest friend.”
Claire almost smiled at the phrase.
Closest friend.
Vanessa had smiled across Claire’s kitchen table, touched baby clothes in the nursery, and promised to organize the shower.
All while planning where she would sleep after Claire was dead.
On the tablet, Marcus examined the photograph found in Eleanor’s hands.
He turned it beneath the church lights.
Something metallic glimmered along one edge.
“Detective,” he said, “there is a memory card attached.”
Ortiz used gloved fingers to remove it.
Ethan lunged.
Marcus blocked him.
The movement was small but revealing.
Ortiz stared at Ethan.
“Why do you care about this card?”
“I do not.”
“You just attempted to grab it.”
“I thought it belonged to my wife.”
“Your wife’s photograph is on the front?”
Ethan said nothing.
Ortiz sealed the memory card in an evidence bag.
Then every light in the church went out.
The organ music stopped.
The cameras went black.
Claire sat upright despite the pain.
“What happened?”
Jonathan tapped the screen.
“We lost the feed.”
Across the street, the cathedral doors were barely visible through the snowfall.
A gunshot cracked from inside.
Then another.
Claire’s pulse surged.
“No.”
Jonathan reached for the door handle.
She grabbed his coat.
“You cannot go in there.”
“Marcus is inside.”
“So is Ethan.”
A third gunshot sounded.
Guests who had remained near the cathedral fled into the street.
A side window shattered.
A figure climbed through it and dropped into the snow.
Vanessa.
She stumbled, lost one shoe, and ran toward the alley with blood on her dress.
“Is she injured?” Claire asked.
Jonathan narrowed his eyes.
“I cannot tell.”
Police officers rushed after her.
The cathedral lights flickered back on.
Marcus’s voice came through Jonathan’s phone.
“We are secure. One officer wounded. Shooter escaped through the service corridor.”
“Ethan?”
“Alive.”
“The evidence?”
A pause.
“The memory card is gone.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Of course it was.
The body in the coffin had not been placed there merely to frighten Ethan.
It had been bait.
Someone wanted the church opened, the police summoned, and every eye focused on Eleanor Shaw.
Someone else wanted the memory card.
Or perhaps the same person wanted both.
Claire looked at Jonathan.
“Who knew about Eleanor?”
“Very few people.”
“Name them.”
“Margaret. Me. Two Halcyon attorneys. My father.”
“Is your father alive?”
Jonathan’s expression changed.
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
“He died fifteen years ago.”
“Was there a body?”
Jonathan did not answer quickly enough.
Claire felt a chill.
“Was there?”
“A body was identified.”
“That was not my question.”
Jonathan looked toward the church.
“The coffin was closed.”
Claire gave a humorless laugh.
“Closed coffins seem to run in the family.”
Before Jonathan could reply, Marcus called again.
“We have another problem.”
“What?”
“Ethan is demanding to speak with you.”
Jonathan’s voice hardened.
“He can speak through counsel.”
“He says he knows Claire is alive.”
Silence filled the limousine.
Claire looked at the dark glass separating her from the snowy street.
“How?”
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