“No. Laura refused to email it.”
“Why?”
“Her father told her never to put it online.”
“Smart.”
“Paranoid.”
“Maybe both.”
Rachel arranged to meet Laura at eight on the night of October 12.
Then Marcus at nine-thirty.
Rachel never reached either meeting.
Laura told Marcus Rachel did not show.
The next morning she learned of the crash.
Two days later, Laura stopped answering.
“Did you ever go to her home?”
“Yes.”
“Gone?”
“Boxes. Realtor sign. Neighbor said she left overnight.”
Ethan stared.
“That doesn’t happen because someone misses a meeting.”
“No.”
“Find her.”
Patricia looked up.
“We’re trying.”
They found Caleb Ross first.
The private investigator Vivian hired.
He lived in Delaware now and ran corporate security for a pharmaceutical company.
Patricia contacted him through counsel.
He refused to speak.
Then federal investigators contacted him.
His attitude changed.
A week later Ethan sat behind one-way glass in a federal building while two agents interviewed the man who had followed his wife during the last six weeks of her life.
Caleb Ross was forty-seven.
Former police.
Clean haircut.
Gray suit.
He looked painfully ordinary.
Ethan hated him immediately.
Caleb admitted Vivian hired him.
The instruction was simple.
Find out who Rachel was meeting.
Photograph everything.
Access public records.
No illegal entry.
No direct contact.
At least initially.
He followed Rachel to Marcus’s office three times.
Photographed them at restaurants.
Recorded license plates.
Then Vivian asked him to obtain access to Rachel’s laptop.
“How?” one investigator asked.
Caleb shifted.
“I knew someone.”
“You installed software?”
“Remote access.”
“Without consent?”
“Yes.”
Ethan clenched his fists.
Caleb continued.
That was how Vivian saw messages between Rachel and Marcus.
The messages were professional.
Vivian asked whether they could be made to look personal.
Caleb said no.
But a digital contractor he knew could alter exported screenshots.
“Why?”
Caleb looked down.
“She told me Rachel was trying to take her grandson and destroy her son’s business.”
“And you believed her?”
“She paid me.”
At least he was honest.
Then came October 12.
Vivian told Caleb Rachel planned to meet someone carrying stolen company documents.
She wanted them photographed.
Recovered if possible.
“Recovered?”
Caleb hesitated.
“She said if there was a folder, get it.”
“How?”
“I was supposed to approach her.”
“Did you?”
Caleb looked toward the table.
“Yes.”
Ethan stopped breathing.
The agent leaned forward.