Chapter 3 - Someone Inside the House
Claire woke Nathan immediately.
“My laptop is gone.”
He sat up.
“What?”
“It was on that chair.”
Snow rattled against the bedroom windows.
The power had flickered twice during the night, forcing the chalet onto its backup generator.
Nathan switched on the lamp.
“Are you sure?”
Claire stared at him.
He regretted the question instantly.
“Yes, Nathan. I know where I left my laptop.”
He threw back the blankets.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what you meant.”
The slap still burned emotionally even though the swelling had faded.
Nathan stopped.
“Claire.”
“Find my computer.”
They searched the bedroom, hallway, upstairs library, and study.
No laptop.
Diane appeared at the staircase in a silk robe.
“What are you two doing?”
Claire answered, “Someone stole my computer.”
Diane gave a tired laugh.
“Inside a locked chalet?”
“You’re inside the chalet.”
Nathan looked at his mother.
“Did you take it?”
“Of course not.”
“Then help us look.”
Diane’s face hardened.
“I’m not participating in Claire’s paranoia.”
She walked back toward her room.
Claire followed.
“Where were you ten minutes ago?”
Diane turned.
“Excuse me?”
“My laptop disappeared while Nathan and I were sleeping.”
“Maybe you misplaced it.”
“That excuse is becoming popular tonight.”
Diane stepped closer.
“You should be careful, Claire.”
“With what?”
“With how unstable you appear when you’re frightened.”
The warning was unmistakable.
Nathan heard it.
“Mom.”
Diane smiled faintly.
“I’m going back to bed.”
Claire did not sleep afterward.
At dawn, when the storm weakened slightly, she went downstairs.
Her laptop was sitting in the kitchen.
Exactly where the frying pan had landed.
Nathan came behind her.
“That wasn’t there last night.”
“No.”
Claire opened it.
The battery was nearly dead.
She entered her password.
A system alert appeared.
THREE FAILED LOGIN ATTEMPTS.
Then one successful login at 2:13 a.m.
Claire’s blood went cold.
“That’s impossible.”
Nathan leaned over.
“Unless someone knew your password.”
Only three people had ever known it.
Claire.
Nathan.
And Claire’s former business partner, Rebecca Lin, who had helped recover files after a server failure years earlier.
Nathan looked at her.
“I didn’t touch it.”
Claire closed the laptop.
“After last night, you’ll forgive me for not accepting anyone’s word automatically.”
His face tightened.
“I deserve that.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Nathan finally said, “I’m sorry.”
Claire looked at him.
“For which part?”
He had no answer big enough.
She carried the laptop into the study.
Someone had opened her archived financial-analysis folders.
Nothing obvious was deleted.
But when Claire checked her recent documents, one old file had been accessed.
VALE FAMILY PRENUP — FINAL.
Her stomach tightened.
“Why would someone open our prenup?”
Nathan looked confused.
Claire opened the document.
Her own copy had been stored since before their wedding.
The agreement protected Nathan’s premarital ownership in Vale Mountain Holdings while guaranteeing Claire independent assets, spousal support under specified conditions, and full rights to property acquired jointly during marriage.
Nothing surprising.
Then Claire noticed a page in the printed copy beside the laptop.
She had not printed it.
Section 14.
MARITAL MISCONDUCT AND FAMILY SAFETY.
A yellow highlight covered one sentence.
Nothing herein limits either party’s right to seek temporary exclusive occupancy of jointly used property when supported by a court order concerning domestic violence or credible threats of harm.
Claire stared at it.
Nathan read the passage.
“Someone wants you to think Mom is trying to force you out of the house.”
Claire turned slowly.
“No.”
“What?”
“Someone wants me to know what she intends to do.”
Nathan’s phone rang.
He answered.
“Evan?”
Claire recognized the name.
Evan Mercer, Vale Mountain Holdings’ chief financial officer.
Nathan walked toward the window.
“You found what?”
His expression changed.
“When?”
He turned toward Diane’s hallway.
“No. Don’t call Martin.”
Claire stood.
Nathan ended the call.
“What happened?”
“Evan found three more Alder Crest transfers.”
“How much?”
“Another one-point-six million.”
Claire exhaled.
“Over four million total.”
Nathan nodded.
“And one transfer was authorized with Dad’s electronic signature.”
Claire froze.
“When?”
Nathan swallowed.
“Six weeks after he died.”
A floorboard creaked.
Diane stood in the doorway.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Nathan’s voice was almost a whisper.
“Care to explain how Dad approved a transaction from the grave?”
Diane’s face drained of color.
Then she recovered.
“It was probably a scheduled payment.”
Claire shook her head.
“Electronic approvals don’t schedule themselves after death unless the workflow was already authorized.”
“You don’t know our system.”
“I know fraud controls.”
Diane’s eyes narrowed.
“And I know you.”
That sounded strange.
Personal.
Claire studied her.
“What does that mean?”
Diane walked toward Nathan.
“Before you destroy your father’s company because your wife enjoys playing detective, you should know something.”
Nathan said nothing.
Diane picked up his phone.
She scrolled.
Then she held it toward him.
On the screen were screenshots of text messages.
The sender was Claire.
Or appeared to be.
Once the baby arrives, your mother loses everything.
Another:
Nathan is weak where she’s concerned. I’ll make him choose.
Another:
When the trust changes, I control him.
Claire felt nauseated.
“I never wrote those.”
Nathan stared at her.
Diane spoke softly.
“She sent them to someone she trusted.”
“Who?”
Diane smiled without warmth.
“Ask her.”
Claire took Nathan’s phone.
The screenshot showed a recipient number she did not recognize.
But underneath was a name.
Dr. Ethan Cole.
Claire’s obstetrician.
Nathan looked at her.
May you like
Diane had found a different kind of weapon now.
And unlike the frying pan, this one had been prepared long before the blizzard.
