Chapter 8 - The Woman Wearing Claire's Face
Noah agreed to meet.
Not at the lake house.
At a diner crowded enough that nobody could quietly disappear.
Claire went with Ethan.
Lily remained with the investigator.
Victoria stayed under observation.
Noah looked older than his photographs.
Tired.
Scar on his little finger.
No theatrical villain.
Just a man who had spent years running.
He admitted everything Rachel discovered about him.
He sold confidential data.
Accepted money.
Blackmailed clients.
Rachel confronted him.
At first he threatened her.
Then he learned someone was using the same system for something he had never agreed to.
Drugging clients.
Manipulating memory.
Creating compromising events.
Noah became afraid.
He agreed to testify.
Two weeks later Rachel died.
“Who killed her?”
“I don't know.”
Ethan slammed his fist onto the table.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No. I expect you to remember.”
Again.
Remember.
Noah explained.
On the night Rachel died, Ethan called him.
Panicked.
Said Rachel had discovered “the second ledger.”
Asked Noah to meet.
Noah arrived at the lake house.
Ethan was there.
So was Rachel.
And Victoria.
There was an argument.
Then Ethan drank something.
Collapsed.
When he woke hours later, Rachel was gone.
Victoria told him Rachel had driven away angry.
The next morning her car was found below the mountain road.
Ethan stared.
“I don't remember any of this.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Mom said if I came near you, she'd give police enough evidence to make Rachel's death look like murder committed by both of us.”
Claire asked:
“What did you see at the wedding?”
Noah leaned closer.
“Lily inside the machine.”
He had followed her because he knew Rachel left instructions.
He opened the door.
Told Lily to get out.
Then heard footsteps.
He recognized Victoria's voice nearby.
Afraid she would see him, Noah closed the washer and hid behind linen carts.
Victoria entered.
But she did not touch the machine.
She searched for something.
Left.
Then another woman entered.
“She was wearing a white dress.”
Claire stopped breathing.
“A wedding dress?”
“Yes.”
Ethan stared at Claire.
Noah shook his head.
“Not her.”
“Then who?”
“She looked like Claire from behind.”
Same dark hair.
Similar height.
White dress.
The woman approached the washer.
Pressed the controls.
Water started.
Then walked away.
Noah rushed toward Lily, but Ethan arrived from the opposite corridor seconds later.
Noah hid because he feared being recognized.
Claire thought of the eleven-minute gap.
Someone had intentionally dressed to resemble her.
This was not merely an attempt to frighten Lily.
It was designed to frame Claire.
“Did you see her face?”
“Only partly.”
“Would you recognize her?”
Noah took out his phone.
He showed Claire a photograph from outside the venue.
A brunette woman in a simple white dress entering a hired car.
Claire zoomed.
Her stomach dropped.
She knew the woman.
Sophie Lane.
Claire's maid of honor.
May you like
Her best friend since college.
The person who had helped Claire choose her wedding gown.
