CHAPTER 8 — THE NIGHT HER MOTHER DIED
Claire stared at Rebecca across the dark storage unit.
“Olivia was driving?”
Rebecca nodded once.
“The traffic camera caught her car less than two miles from the crash.”
“That doesn’t prove she forced my mother off the road.”
“No. But this might.”
Rebecca opened a folder containing several enlarged photographs.
The first image showed Claire’s mother leaving Bennett Coastal Design at 9:14 p.m.
The second showed her silver sedan entering Coastal Route 7.
The third showed a dark blue car following less than thirty seconds behind.
Claire recognized the dent above the rear wheel.
Olivia had owned that car for five years.
“She told me she was home that night,” Claire whispered.
“She lied.”
Claire looked at the final photograph.
Olivia’s car had been captured returning toward Port Haven at 10:02 p.m.
Her mother’s crash had been reported at 9:47.
“Why didn’t the police find this?”
“Daniel made sure they didn’t look.”
Rebecca pointed toward the image.
“The camera belonged to a private marina. The footage never entered the official investigation.”
Claire’s hands curled around the edge of the table.
“Why would Olivia help kill our mother?”
“I didn’t say she killed her.”
“You said she forced her off the road.”
“I said she was driving the other car.”
Claire stepped closer.
“What’s the difference?”
“The difference is that your mother survived the initial crash.”
The room became completely still.
Claire could hear the faint buzz of the overhead light.
“What did you say?”
“A fisherman called emergency services after seeing headlights below the cliff.”
Rebecca removed a copy of the dispatch report.
“The first paramedics found your mother conscious.”
Claire stared at the paper.
“That’s impossible. Mason told me she died instantly.”
“Mason was not at the crash site when the paramedics arrived.”
“He identified her body.”
“He identified a sealed body bag.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
“Daniel requested that the body remain sealed because of the condition of the remains.”
“My mother’s car caught fire.”
“After she had already been removed from it.”
Rebecca placed another report on the table.
The original paramedic notes contained a handwritten line:
Female patient conscious. Repeatedly saying daughter’s name.
The line had been crossed out.
A second version of the report stated that the driver had been pronounced dead at the scene.
Claire felt as if the floor had shifted beneath her.
“Where did they take her?”
“To St. Catherine’s Medical Center.”
“I went there.”
“You arrived two hours later.”
“Mason was waiting for me.”
“Because he needed to control what you saw.”
Claire turned toward Evelyn.
“You knew this?”
Evelyn’s expression remained unreadable.
“I knew the reports were inconsistent.”
“You told me you didn’t know whether Mason caused the accident.”
“I didn’t know what happened after the ambulance arrived.”
Claire looked back at Rebecca.
“What happened?”
“The ambulance never reached St. Catherine’s.”
“Then where did it go?”
“It changed direction twelve minutes into the trip.”
Rebecca unfolded a road map.
The ambulance had traveled inland toward a private medical facility called Briarwood Recovery Center.
Claire had never heard of it.
“What is Briarwood?”
“It was a psychiatric care facility owned by a subsidiary of Gray Tide Development.”
“Was?”
“It closed eighteen months ago.”
Claire calculated the date.
Six months after her mother’s supposed death.
She picked up the brass key.
“We’re going there.”
Evelyn stepped in front of her.
“It’s nearly midnight.”
“My mother may have survived.”
“If she did, she would not still be at an abandoned facility.”
“Then there may be records.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“Mason removed most of them.”
“Most?”
Rebecca reached into her bag and produced a plastic identification bracelet.
The faded label read:
JANE DOE 47 — BRIARWOOD
Below it was a date.
The morning after Claire’s mother’s crash.
Claire turned the bracelet over.
Three initials had been scratched into the plastic.
M.E.B.
Margaret Elaine Bennett.
Claire’s mother.
“Where did you get this?”
“A nurse kept it.”
“Where is the nurse?”
“Missing.”
Claire stared at the bracelet in her palm.
Mason had lied about the crash.
Daniel had altered the records.
Olivia had followed her mother along the coastal road.
But one question remained.
“If my mother survived, why didn’t she contact me?”
Rebecca’s face softened.
“Because she may not have been able to.”
A phone began ringing inside the storage unit.
It was not Claire’s.
It was not Evelyn’s.
The sound came from inside one of the archive boxes.
Rebecca immediately pulled the lid away.
A cheap black phone lay beneath a stack of files.
The screen displayed a blocked number.
Claire answered.
For several seconds, there was only static.
Then a weak woman’s voice whispered:
“Claire?”
Her knees nearly collapsed.
She knew that voice.
“Mom?”
A sharp breath came through the line.
“Don’t go to Briarwood.”
Claire pressed the phone against her ear.
“Where are you?”
“Listen to me. Mason knows about the storage unit.”
A heavy impact sounded in the background.
The woman gasped.
Then Claire heard a man’s voice.
“Take the phone away from her.”
May you like
The line went dead.
At that exact moment, the security lights outside Unit 317 switched off.
