Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Had Been DisappearingFor the next hour, nothing happened.
She had worked international routes for eleven years and possessed the calm expression of someone who had seen almost every variety of human foolishness at thirty thousand feet.
Almost.
A stolen passport, a fake marriage, a disputed medical competency case, and a suspected forty-two-million-dollar financial scheme apparently qualified as unusual even for Lena.
She asked Richard to return to his seat while the passport remained temporarily in the crew’s possession.
Richard objected.
Politely.
Of course.
“I’m her mother’s legal representative.”
Lena looked at Margaret.
“Are you also Ms. Bennett’s legal representative?”
“No,” Richard admitted.
“Then the passport belongs to Ms. Bennett.”
“Claire is emotionally distressed.”
“So far,” Lena said, “the only issue we’re addressing is possession of her passport.”
Ethan nearly smiled.
Richard did not.
Lena sealed the passport inside an airline security envelope.
“I’ll inform the purser.”
Richard’s jaw tightened.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Then the appropriate authorities can resolve it when we land.”
That was precisely what Richard did not want to hear.
Claire sat frozen until he disappeared behind the curtain.
Then she whispered, “Thank you.”
Ethan shook his head.
“Save that for Lena.”
“I mean for staying.”
He looked at her.
“Would you have left?”
“A normal person would.”
“You’re assuming I’m normal.”
For the first time since they met, Claire smiled.
It was small.
But real.
“Why did you help me?” she asked.
Ethan considered giving an easy answer.
Because she looked scared.
Because stealing passports was wrong.
Because Richard irritated him.
Instead, he told the truth.
“My younger sister spent three years with a man who made everyone think she was unstable.”
Claire’s expression softened.
“What happened?”
“She got out.”
“Is she okay?”
“She is now.”
Ethan looked at his coffee.
“The hardest part wasn’t getting her away from him. It was convincing her she deserved to trust her own instincts again.”
Claire was silent.
“I’m sorry.”
“She’s happy now. Married to a firefighter. Two kids. She laughs more than anyone I know.”
“You must’ve helped.”
“I tried.”
Claire looked down at the silver ring.
“You’re very good at pretending to be someone’s husband.”
“That might be the strangest compliment I’ve ever received.”
Claire almost laughed again.
A little later Margaret returned from the restroom alone.
She stopped beside them.
Richard was nowhere in sight.
“Mom,” Claire whispered.
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
Claire stood and hugged her across the aisle.
Margaret clung to her daughter.
“I should have listened.”
“Not now.”
“He made everything sound so reasonable.”
“Mom.”
“I thought after your father died, I’d never feel wanted again.”
Claire pulled back.
“Don’t blame yourself.”
“I signed things.”
“We can fix them.”
“I told him things.”
Claire’s face changed.
“What things?”
Margaret glanced toward first class.
Then at Ethan.
“Who is he?”
Claire opened her mouth.
Ethan answered first.
“Ethan Cole.”
“My husband for approximately forty minutes,” Claire added.
Margaret stared.
Then, astonishingly, smiled.
“That’s fast even for you.”
Claire laughed despite herself.
The moment disappeared when Margaret touched her arm.
“Richard knows about the journal.”
Claire went still.
“How?”
“I told him.”
“Mom—”
“I didn’t know what he was then.”
Margaret’s voice shook.
“He asked why you were suddenly suspicious. I mentioned your father’s notebooks.”
“Did you tell him where they are?”
“I said you’d taken them.”
Claire looked at Ethan.
The implications were immediate.
“That’s why he took my passport.”
“Maybe,” Ethan said. “But why let you board at all?”
Claire frowned.
He was right.
Richard had apparently known she had damaging evidence.
If he controlled Margaret at home, why follow both women onto an international flight?
Why allow Claire within reach of London attorneys?
Unless—
“He needs something there,” Ethan said.
Margaret sat in the empty aisle seat beside them.
“My brother.”
Claire looked at her.
“Uncle Thomas?”
Margaret nodded.
“He’s meeting us in London.”
“You never told me.”
“I was afraid Richard would discover it.”
“Who is Thomas?” Ethan asked.
“My mother’s younger brother,” Claire explained. “He’s lived in England for thirty years.”
Margaret continued.
“Thomas was executor of your grandfather’s original trust. There’s one document Richard needs that only Thomas can authorize.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“What document?”
“The beneficiary amendment.”
Claire stared.
“You said Richard wanted control of your assets.”
Margaret shook her head.
“He wants more.”
“How much more?”
Margaret glanced around.
“The entire Bennett family trust.”
Claire stopped breathing.
“My share is only part of it.”
“How large is the full trust?” Ethan asked.
Margaret whispered the answer.
“Two hundred and eighty million dollars.”
Ethan sat back.
Now Richard’s presence made sense.
He was not protecting a forty-two-million-dollar scheme.
He was finishing a much larger one.
“What would Thomas’s signature do?”
Margaret swallowed.
“It would transfer supervisory authority from the Bennett family to an independent investment administrator.”
“Which administrator?”
“Vale Strategic Partners.”
Claire shut her eyes.
Richard’s company.
Ethan understood immediately.
“If Thomas signs, Richard controls the trust.”
“Yes.”
“And Thomas is expecting you?”
Margaret nodded.
“I told him I had concerns.”
“Did you explain everything?”
“No. Richard came home before I could.”
Claire pulled out her phone.
“We have Wi-Fi. I’ll message him.”
She typed.
The message showed as undelivered.
“Try email,” Ethan said.
Claire did.
Nothing.
Ethan attempted the onboard portal.
Their connection worked.
“So why won’t his contact go through?”
Claire looked at her phone.
Then froze.
“My account password.”
“What?”
“It says my password changed.”
“Try another account.”
She opened her email.
Same result.
Password incorrect.
Margaret tried hers.
Locked.
Ethan felt unease crawl up his spine.
“Richard has access to both your accounts.”
Claire nodded.
“He must.”
“Do you know Thomas’s phone number?”
“Not from memory.”
“Address?”
“No.”
Margaret suddenly spoke.
“I do.”
They turned.
“I know where he’s staying.”
Claire grabbed a pen.
Margaret wrote the address on a napkin.
The Savoy.
London.
Room unknown.
“We can contact the hotel after landing,” Ethan said.
Margaret looked toward first class.
“I don’t think Richard intends to wait that long.”
“What do you mean?”
She opened her purse.
Inside was a small medication bottle.
“My pills.”
Claire examined it.
“What about them?”
“Richard gave them to me.”
“He always does.”
“No.”
Margaret’s voice broke.
“I stopped taking them three days ago.”
Claire stared.
“Why?”
“They made me confused.”
Ethan took the bottle.
The label carried Margaret’s name and a physician’s instructions.
“What are these supposed to be?”
“For anxiety.”
Ethan recognized the medication.
But something looked wrong.
The tablets did not match the imprint he expected.
He turned one over.
Claire watched him.
“What?”
“I’m not a pharmacist.”
“But?”
“These may not be what the bottle says they are.”
Margaret’s face drained.
Claire whispered, “You think he drugged her?”
“I think we shouldn’t assume anything until they’re tested.”
Margaret covered her mouth.
Suddenly Ethan noticed something.
A man standing near the galley.
Dark jacket.
Thirties.
Watching them.
Ethan had seen him earlier near first class speaking to Richard.
When their eyes met, the man turned away.
“Do either of you know him?” Ethan asked.
Claire followed his gaze.
“No.”
Margaret did.
Her reaction said everything.
“His name is Victor Shaw.”
“Who is he?”
Margaret whispered:
“Richard’s security director.”
Claire looked toward the sealed cockpit door.
Then toward first class.
Then at Ethan.
“How many people does Richard have on this plane?”
May you like
Ethan watched Victor disappear through the curtain.
“I think,” he said, “we need to find that out before Richard decides our little marriage has become inconvenient.”
Related Stories
