Chapter 8: The Enemy Who Asked for Help
I never thought Tatum would be the person to help me.
The woman who laughed while I sat bleeding on the porch.
The woman who wore my robe while my father tried to steal my home.
But fear changes people.
Sometimes it reveals them.
Sometimes it breaks them.
"Where are you?"" I asked.
Tatum didn't answer.
"Claire, you can't trust me.""
That surprised me.
Because she was right.
"I don't.""
A shaky breath came through the phone.
"Good.""
"Then why are you calling?""
"Because I know what Walter did.""
I looked at the screen showing the video.
"Who was driving?""
Silence.
Then:
"My brother.""
Everything stopped.
"Your brother?""
"Jason.""
I remembered the name.
Walter had mentioned him before.
A distant relative.
Someone who "helped with business.""
"Why?""
Tatum started crying.
"I didn't know at first.""
"Don't lie to me.""
"I'm not.""
Her voice cracked.
"I thought Walter was just trying to scare Owen.""
I gripped the phone.
"Scare him?""
"Yes.""
She swallowed.
"He wanted Owen to stop investigating.""
"And when Owen didn't?""
"I don't know.""
But she did.
I could hear it.
She knew more.
"Tatum.""
Silence.
"Tell me.""
Finally, she whispered:
"Jason followed him.""
My knees weakened.
"He followed him?""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"Because Walter paid him.""
The room went silent.
Rebecca took the phone from my hand.
"Tatum, this is attorney Rebecca Lane. You need to understand that any statement you make can be used legally.""
"I know.""
"Then tell the truth.""
Tatum cried quietly.
"I was stupid.""
Nobody answered.
"I thought Walter was going to leave everything to me.""
Of course.
That was the missing piece.
The reason she stayed.
The reason she helped.
She thought she was winning.
"What did Walter promise you?""
"My own house.""
I almost laughed.
Because that was who Walter was.
He didn't love people.
He bought loyalty.
"What happened?""
"He changed.""
Tatum's voice became smaller.
"After Owen died, he stopped pretending.""
She continued.
"He told me Claire was a problem.""
A chill went through me.
"What did he mean?""
"He said you were supposed to be easier to control.""
Rebecca looked at me.
I felt sick.
"He said once you were removed, everything would belong to him.""
I closed my eyes.
Tatum whispered:
"Claire, I was there when he made the call.""
"What call?""
"The call to Jason.""
The room went silent.
"What did he say?""
Tatum answered:
"He said, 'Make sure the road takes care of the problem.''"
Nobody moved.
The words hung there.
Heavy.
Impossible.
But real.
After the call ended, Rebecca immediately contacted investigators.
Within hours, everything changed.
The case was no longer about property.
It was about murder.
Walter was found before he reached the airport.
He wasn't arrested.
Not yet.
But he was questioned.
And for the first time, he wasn't the person controlling the conversation.
That night, I returned to Owen's house.
Alone.
Not because I was reckless.
Because I needed to stand there.
The porch.
The place where I had been broken.
I touched the railing where I held myself up that morning.
I remembered thinking my life was over.
It wasn't.
It was changing.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Rebecca.
"Claire, we found Jason.""
I stared.
Then another message appeared.
"He wants to make a deal.""
I typed back:
"Why?""
The response came seconds later.
"Because Walter tried to have him eliminated too.""
I froze.
My father had turned on everyone.
Even the people who helped him.
Then Rebecca sent one final message.
"Jason says he has proof that Walter planned Owen's death months before the crash.""
I looked back at the house.
At the place where Owen and I built our life.
And for the first time, I whispered:
"I know you're watching over me.""
The next morning, I walked into the courthouse.
And saw my father waiting.
He looked exhausted.
Older.
Broken.
But when he saw me, his expression changed.
For a second...
I saw the old Walter.
The father who carried me when I was sick.
The man I spent my whole life wanting approval from.
Then he smiled.
And I remembered.
Some people don't change.
They just get better at hiding.
He walked toward me.
"Claire.""
I stopped.
"What?""
His eyes moved to my stomach.
Then back to me.
"I need you to know something.""
I said nothing.
He leaned closer.
"Your husband wasn't the only person I planned to remove.""
My blood turned cold.
"What does that mean?""
He smiled faintly.
May you like
And before security pulled him away, he whispered:
"It means Owen wasn't my first mistake.""