Chapter 6 - ETHAN’S CONFESSIONEthan asked to see me from jail.
I refused.
Then he sent a message through Rebecca.
I DIDN’T KILL RACHEL.
I KNOW WHERE GRANT TOOK HER.
That changed my answer.
Detective Ruiz arranged the meeting.
Ethan sat behind thick glass wearing county-issued clothes.
No expensive watch.
No pressed shirt.
No confident smile.
Just a man who had lost control of his own story.
I picked up the phone.
He did the same.
“Claire.”
“You have five minutes.”
“I didn’t kill Rachel.”
“Then where is she?”
“I don’t know now.”
“You said you knew.”
“I know where Grant took her that night.”
My grip tightened.
“Talk.”
Ethan looked toward the officer standing behind me.
“Rachel discovered the investment accounts.”
“I know.”
“She threatened to go to federal investigators.”
“Good.”
“I wanted to let her.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course you did.”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I know.”
“You slept with my sister.”
His eyes lowered.
“I know.”
“You left Roger on a kitchen floor.”
He closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“You don’t get to ask me to believe you because you finally found one crime you claim you didn’t commit.”
His voice dropped.
“Fair.”
That surprised me.
Then he continued.
“Grant came to the house the night Rachel disappeared.”
“Why?”
“He said he wanted to negotiate.”
“Was Rachel already there?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She had copies of the ledgers.”
“What ledgers?”
“Every transfer. Every fake company. Every investor.”
“Eight million dollars?”
“More.”
“How much?”
Ethan hesitated.
“Almost twenty-three.”
My stomach dropped.
“Twenty-three million dollars?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Moved through development projects, offshore accounts, fake contractors.”
“Did you steal it?”
“Some.”
“How much?”
“About four.”
I stared at him.
“You stole four million dollars.”
“I thought I could replace it.”
“That is something gamblers say.”
“I know.”
“What happened to Rachel?”
“She recorded us.”
“Us?”
“Me and Grant.”
“She wanted protection.”
“Smart.”
“She told us if anything happened to her, copies would go to investigators.”
“Then why is she missing?”
“Because Grant didn’t believe her.”
Ethan swallowed.
“They argued.”
“What happened?”
“He hit her.”
“With what?”
“A paperweight.”
I felt sick.
“She fell.”
“Was she alive?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“She was breathing.”
“What did you do?”
“I panicked.”
The answer came too quickly.
“Did you call 911?”
“No.”
“Of course not.”
“I wanted to.”
“But?”
“Grant said if police came, everything was over.”
“Meaning you’d go to prison.”
“Yes.”
“So you helped him.”
“I helped move her.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The line Ethan had crossed.
Maybe he hadn’t struck Rachel.
Maybe he hadn’t planned her disappearance.
But when choosing between a wounded woman’s life and protecting himself, my husband chose himself.
“Where?”
“An old development site outside Chesterfield.”
“What site?”
“Blackstone Ridge.”
I knew the name.
An abandoned subdivision Ethan’s company had purchased two years earlier.
“What did Grant do?”
“He put Rachel in his SUV.”
“And you?”
“I cleaned the office.”
I could barely look at him.
“The blood in the basement?”
“Rags.”
“You hid them?”
“Yes.”
“Why keep them?”
“I didn’t. I thought Grant took everything.”
His voice cracked.
“He must’ve left some.”
“You deserve prison.”
“I know.”
That answer hurt differently.
No defense.
No excuse.
Just truth.
“What about my insurance?”
Ethan stared at me.
“Grant suggested it.”
“Why?”
“He said we needed liquidity if something happened.”
“To me?”
“At first, he called it financial planning.”
“You believed him?”
“No.”
“Then why sign?”
“Because by then I was trapped.”
“Stop saying trapped. You made choices.”
He nodded.
“You’re right.”
“What was the plan?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ethan.”
“I swear.”
“Did Grant intend to kill me?”
“I think so.”
My skin went cold.
“When did you realize?”
“After the fuel line.”
“You knew someone tampered with my car.”
“I suspected Grant.”
“And didn’t tell me.”
“I fixed it.”
“That isn’t protecting me.”
“I know.”
“You should have gone to police.”
“I know.”
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
I wanted him to argue.
Strangely, his acceptance made me angrier.
“What does Rachel have to do with me?”
“She knew about the insurance.”
“Why?”
“She processed the paperwork.”
My breath caught.
“She forged my signature?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“Grant’s assistant.”
“What assistant?”
“A woman named Diane Cole.”
I remembered the dark-haired woman on the security footage.
“She came to our house.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To bring documents.”
“Did she know the policy was fraudulent?”
“I assume.”
“Where is she?”
Ethan looked nervous.
“I don’t know.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“What happened?”
“She told Grant she wanted out.”
My blood chilled.
“And?”
“He laughed.”
The pattern was becoming obvious.
People around Grant did not simply resign.
They disappeared.
“What about Melissa?”
Ethan looked down.
“I dragged her into it.”
“You did more than that.”
“I know.”
“Did you love her?”
He stared through the glass.
“No.”
For some reason, that made what he had done worse.
“You used her.”
“Yes.”
“To sign paperwork?”
“At first.”
“And then?”
“I slept with her.”
“Why?”
He looked ashamed.
“Because she wanted to believe me.”
I swallowed the sudden heat behind my eyes.
“That may be the most disgusting thing you’ve said.”
“I know.”
“No, Ethan. I don’t think you do.”
He pressed his hand against the glass.
“I destroyed everything.”
“You did.”
“Claire.”
“What?”
“I don’t expect forgiveness.”
“Good.”
“But Roger—”
“Don’t.”
My voice sharpened.
“He loves you.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“I know.”
“You endangered him.”
“I know.”
“You taught him to keep secrets.”
His face collapsed.
“I know.”
For the first time, I saw tears.
“I’m sorry.”
I stared at him.
“I don’t need your apology.”
“What do you need?”
“The truth.”
He nodded.
“Then there’s one more thing.”
Of course there was.
“What?”
“Rachel’s recording.”
“What about it?”
“She didn’t keep only one copy.”
“Where is it?”
“I think she hid one in your house.”
“Why my house?”
“Because she trusted you.”
“She barely knew me.”
“She told me once that you were the only person around me who still had a conscience.”
That sentence landed harder than expected.
“Where would she hide it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know it exists?”
“Because before Grant hit her, she looked at me and said, ‘Claire will find it.’”
I stared at him.
“Find what?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Ethan leaned closer to the glass.
“But I remembered something after the police arrested me.”
“What?”
“The week before Rachel disappeared, you were working overnight.”
“Yes.”
“She came to the house.”
“I didn’t see that on the cameras.”
“She knew how to disable them.”
“What did she do?”
“I thought she was meeting Grant.”
“And?”
“She went upstairs.”
“Where?”
May you like
Ethan’s eyes met mine.
“Roger’s room.”
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