Chapter 3 - The Lake HouseClaire did not sleep.
At five-thirty the next morning, she stood in the penthouse kitchen drinking coffee she could not taste while security teams moved equipment downstairs.
Owen was still missing.
Evan’s men had found the temporary plate abandoned behind a grocery store. The rehabilitation center cameras showed Owen entering a dark SUV voluntarily, but the expression on his face made Claire believe he had been frightened.
Nobody knew where he had gone.
At least, that was what Evan told her.
Caleb Ward knew more.
Claire did not know that yet.
Nora entered the kitchen wearing a wool coat over her clothes.
“You look terrible.”
Claire managed a weak smile.
“Thank you.”
“I value honesty.”
“So does your son.”
“No, Evan values information. Honesty is more complicated.”
Nora sat beside her.
“He’ll find Owen.”
Claire stared into her cup.
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
Nora reached across the table and covered Claire’s hand.
“But Evan does not tolerate losing.”
The gesture nearly broke Claire.
She pulled herself together.
“Neither do I.”
At six-twelve, the convoy left Chicago.
Three black SUVs traveled north.
Evan rode in the first.
Nora and Claire occupied the second with two armed guards.
Caleb traveled behind them.
Rain darkened the highway as the city disappeared.
Claire checked Nora’s blood pressure every thirty minutes.
The older woman complained every time.
“Your son told me to follow security instructions.”
“I am not a security instruction.”
“You are the reason for all of them.”
Nora snorted.
Then she looked out the window.
“You know what bothers him about you?”
Claire already knew.
“Everything?”
“You don’t need him.”
Claire almost laughed.
“I need his paycheck.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Nora turned toward her.
“Most people around Evan want something. Protection. Money. Influence. Permission. You don’t.”
“I want him to stop insulting me.”
“That may require divine intervention.”
Claire smiled.
Nora’s expression became serious.
“He notices you.”
Claire looked away.
“He watches everyone.”
“Not the way he watches you.”
“Mrs. Mercer.”
“Oh, now I’m Mrs. Mercer.”
“You’re medicated.”
“I’m observant.”
Claire checked the oxygen tubing unnecessarily.
“You need rest.”
“I’m seventy-two, not twelve.”
A guard in the passenger seat hid a smile.
The lake house appeared after two hours.
It sat behind iron gates on twenty acres of forest near Geneva Lake, distant enough from neighboring properties that no one could approach unseen.
Or so Evan believed.
The structure was made of stone and dark cedar, with security cameras under every roofline.
Claire stepped from the SUV and immediately felt exposed.
Forests created blind spots.
Blind spots created opportunities.
She hated that she was beginning to think like Evan.
He approached.
“Inside.”
Claire nodded.
“Where is the medical room?”
“East wing.”
“Backup generator?”
“Yes.”
“Oxygen supply?”
“Yes.”
“Emergency transport?”
“Twenty minutes away.”
“Too far.”
Evan looked at her.
“We have a helicopter.”
“Better.”
“You always interrogate people who save your life?”
“You haven’t saved mine yet.”
His expression flickered.
“No. Apparently you’re waiting for someone else to try killing you first.”
Claire froze.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“You said it.”
Evan looked past her toward Nora.
“Get my mother inside.”
He walked away.
Claire watched him.
Something was wrong.
During lunch, Evan barely spoke.
Caleb did most of the talking.
Claire disliked him without knowing why.
He had always been polite to her.
Too polite.
People who worked for Evan were usually careful around strangers. Caleb behaved as though Claire was furniture.
“Your brother had gambling debts?” Caleb asked casually.
Claire stopped cutting Nora’s chicken.
“No.”
“Drugs create expensive friendships.”
“He stole from me. He never gambled.”
Caleb nodded.
“Difficult.”
Claire looked at him.
“You know something?”
Evan’s gaze immediately shifted.
Caleb smiled.
“Only what the search team reported.”
“And what was that?”
“Nothing useful.”
Evan said, “Enough.”
Caleb lifted his glass.
Claire continued eating.
But later, when she carried Nora’s medication upstairs, she found Caleb alone in the corridor.
“Mr. Ward.”
He stopped.
“Claire.”
“What did you mean at lunch?”
“About?”
“My brother.”
“I was making conversation.”
“You don’t seem like someone who makes conversation.”
His smile disappeared slightly.
“You’ve spent too much time around Nora.”
“Maybe.”
Claire stepped closer.
“Did you find Owen?”
“No.”
She watched his face.
People lied differently.
Owen looked left.
Nora became too still.
Evan became colder.
Caleb smiled.
“Thank you,” Claire said.
“For?”
“Answering.”
She walked away.
Caleb watched her until she disappeared.
Then he removed his phone.
“She’s becoming a problem,” he whispered.
A voice answered.
“Then make sure the problem reaches the road tomorrow.”
Caleb disconnected.
That evening, Nora’s oxygen saturation fell to eighty-eight.
Claire increased her oxygen and listened to her lungs.
“Fluid.”
Nora closed her eyes.
“Wonderful.”
“You need the diuretic.”
“I hate the diuretic.”
“Your kidneys and I have voted against you.”
Nora took the medication.
Evan appeared in the doorway.
“What happened?”
“Minor pulmonary congestion.”
“Minor?”
“If it were major, I’d tell you.”
“You should have called me.”
Claire looked at him.
“Why? Are you secretly a cardiologist?”
Nora coughed into her hand, hiding laughter.
Evan ignored her.
“I want a doctor brought here.”
“She doesn’t need one yet.”
“I decide.”
“No.”
His face hardened.
Claire rose.
“In medical matters, she decides. I advise. A doctor advises. You do not decide because you own the building.”
“My mother almost died six months ago.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not repeating that.”
“Then stop frightening her every time her oxygen level changes.”
Nora murmured, “I’m still in the room.”
Neither listened.
Evan stepped close enough that Claire could see exhaustion beneath his eyes.
“You think I’m controlling.”
“I know you are.”
“You don’t know what happens when I stop controlling things.”
Claire’s anger faded.
“What happened six months ago?”
He looked away.
Nora answered.
“I stopped breathing.”
Claire knew about the hospitalization but not the details.
Nora continued.
“Evan performed CPR for eight minutes waiting for paramedics.”
Claire looked at him.
His expression became stone.
“Mother.”
“He broke two of my ribs.”
“I saved your life.”
“Both can be true.”
Claire suddenly understood why Evan reacted to every medical fluctuation like an enemy attack.
He had already watched his mother die once.
The monitors beeped quietly.
Claire said, “I know you’re afraid.”
Evan’s head turned sharply.
“I’m not afraid.”
“You are.”
Nora closed her eyes.
“Claire.”
But Claire continued.
“You can threaten people, control doors, cancel appointments and hire guards. None of that gives you control over her heart.”
Evan stared at her.
“And you think that makes me feel better?”
“No.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because eventually you’re going to hurt her trying to protect her from being hurt.”
For once, Evan had no answer.
He left.
Nora sighed.
“You really do enjoy danger.”
“No.”
“You told Evan Mercer he’s afraid.”
“He is.”
“He has killed men for less.”
Claire froze.
Nora smiled faintly.
“I’m joking.”
“That wasn’t funny.”
“It was a little funny.”
Later that night, Claire walked downstairs for water.
Voices stopped her near the study.
Evan and Caleb.
“I don’t like it,” Evan said.
“The route is clean.”
“Change it anyway.”
“You’ve already changed tomorrow’s route twice.”
“Change it a third time.”
Caleb sounded irritated.
“Paranoia makes men predictable too.”
“Careful.”
Silence.
Then Caleb said, “I raised you after Thomas died.”
“And I love you for it.”
“Do you?”
Claire almost moved away.
Evan continued.
“But if you ever use my father to win an argument again, we’re going to have a different conversation.”
Claire heard footsteps and quickly stepped into the laundry room.
Caleb emerged first.
He walked past without seeing her.
Evan followed seconds later.
Claire waited.
Then she noticed something on the floor.
A folded piece of paper.
Caleb must have dropped it.
Claire picked it up.
It was a printed map.
Three roads were highlighted.
One circled in red.
At the bottom someone had written:
CONSTRUCTION ZONE - 2:15 P.M.
Claire’s heartbeat changed.
Tomorrow they were supposed to return to Chicago after lunch.
She took the map to Evan immediately.
He was in his room, shirt sleeves rolled up.
He opened the door and frowned.
“What?”
Claire handed him the map.
“I found this outside the study.”
His expression changed as he read it.
“Where exactly?”
“After Caleb walked past.”
Evan looked at her.
“Are you accusing him?”
“I’m telling you where I found it.”
He read it again.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His face became colder with every second.
“Where?”
Claire waited.
Evan disconnected.
“What happened?”
“One of our scouts was found dead near Highway Twelve.”
Claire looked down at the map.
“Near the construction zone?”
“Yes.”
Their eyes met.
For the first time, Evan did not treat her like an outsider.
“Stay with my mother,” he said.
Claire nodded.
“Where are you going?”
“To find out who just sold our route.”
From the darkness beyond the windows, someone watched the lake house through a high-powered lens.
A photograph was taken.
Claire stood in Evan’s doorway.
The image was sent to Victor Crowe.
May you like
His reply came immediately.
KEEP THE CAREGIVER ALIVE UNTIL THE OLD WOMAN TALKS.
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