“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“I told him where you’d be.”
Eleanor approached.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
Claire’s eyes filled with tears.
“You don’t understand.”
“What?”
Claire looked toward Daniel, then me, then back at her grandmother.
“Marcus left the house before sunrise.”
Daniel became motionless.
“Where did he say he was going?”
“He didn’t.”
Claire swallowed.
“And when he came back…”
Her hands started trembling.
“There was mud all over his shoes.”
Eleanor whispered her name.
“Claire.”
But her granddaughter continued.
“He burned his coat.”
Everyone stared.
“He what?”
“In the fireplace.”
Claire’s voice broke.
“He said coffee spilled on it.”
Daniel reached for his phone.
Then Claire caught Eleanor’s hand.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
She retrieved a small envelope from her purse.
“I found this in his safe last week.”
She emptied its contents onto the conference table.
