Chapter 42 - Celeste Tells the Truth Again
Celeste called Evan.
Not Claire.
That mattered.
He stared at the phone for three rings before answering.
“Hello.”
Claire watched from across the kitchen.
Evan’s expression remained unreadable.
“Yes.”
Pause.
“Why?”
Longer pause.
“No.”
Then:
“Send it to Claire.”
He hung up.
Claire waited.
“What?”
“Celeste.”
“I gathered.”
“She has records.”
“From where?”
“Miami.”
Celeste had spent the past decade working quietly in interior procurement.
After completing restitution obligations, she had eventually become compliance coordinator for a regional design supplier.
One of her company’s largest clients?
Sloane Urban Renewal.
Two hours later, files arrived.
Invoices.
Purchase orders.
Design renderings.
Furniture contracts.
Most were ordinary.
One was not.
Evan pointed.
“Center demolition.”
Claire stared.
Six months before the Holloway Center opened, Sloane Urban Renewal had commissioned interior concepts for Tower C.
They had assumed the center would be gone before it even opened.
Another attachment listed expected acquisition date.
January.
Three months away.
“This proves intent,” Marcus said.
“Not fraud.”
“No.”
Then Claire found a payment code.
BPL-AP.
Brenner Pike & Lowe.
Arthur Pendelton.
Celeste called again.
This time Claire answered.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
They had not spoken directly in years.
Celeste sounded older.
More cautious.
“I didn’t know what those invoices meant at first.”
“You do now.”
“Yes.”
“Why were they in your system?”
“Our company was bidding furniture packages.”
“Did you know Malcolm?”
“I met him twice.”
“Arthur?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Claire felt Evan become still.
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
“Where?”
“Miami.”
“Why?”
“He asked questions about you.”
Claire almost laughed.
“Of course.”
“What questions?”
“Your habits. Whether you still kept the brass key. Whether Evan handled personal property closings. Whether Grant still contacted you.”
Evan’s jaw tightened.
“What did you tell him?” Claire asked.
“Nothing useful.”
“Celeste.”
“I told him Evan bought his mother a house.”
Silence.
Celeste started crying.
“I didn’t know.”
Evan stood and walked toward the window.
Claire closed her eyes.
That was how Patricia became a target.
Not sophisticated surveillance.
An old conversation with an old betrayer.
“Why did you tell him?”
“He said he was conducting due diligence for the hotel partnership.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I wanted to.”
That answer was brutally familiar.
Claire looked at Evan’s back.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Arthur asked whether you ever forgave Grant.”
Claire frowned.
“Why would he care?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
Celeste breathed shakily.
“He said people who forgive old enemies usually make predictable mistakes.”
Claire felt cold.
“What mistakes?”
“They trust them again.”
Grant.
Arthur wanted Grant near Claire.
Wanted him inside the hotel.
Wanted his documents mixed into the investigation.
Wanted suspicion.
Claire understood.
“Grant wasn’t only a target.”
Evan turned.
“He was bait.”
Celeste heard him.
Her voice broke.
“Evan.”
He stared at the phone.
Claire said nothing.
Finally Evan spoke.
“Why did you call me first?”
Celeste took several seconds.
“Because Patricia’s house happened because I answered a question I should have refused.”
Evan’s face tightened.
“I wanted you to hear me say it.”
He looked at Claire.
Then back toward the window.
“Okay.”
Celeste inhaled sharply.
Not forgiveness.
Not absolution.
Acknowledgment.
Sometimes that was all truth earned.
Celeste continued.
“I’m flying to Providence tomorrow.”
“Why?” Claire asked.
“To testify.”
“You could lose your job.”
“I already resigned.”
“Celeste—”
“I spent years thinking redemption was something people granted you when you apologized enough.”
She laughed sadly.
“It isn’t.”
Claire listened.
“It’s just doing the next right thing when nobody owes you anything for it.”
Evan closed his eyes.
Claire felt the weight of ten years settle differently.
“Come,” Claire said.
Celeste whispered:
“Thank you.”
After the call, Evan stood silent.
“You okay?” Claire asked.
“No.”
“Want to talk?”
“Not yet.”
She nodded.
Ten years earlier, silence between them would have frightened her.
Now she trusted it.
Evan finally turned.
“She gave Arthur my mother.”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t mean to.”
“No.”
“I hate that both things are true.”
Claire walked toward him.
“That’s adulthood.”
“Terrible system.”
“Completely overrated.”
He laughed.
Then pulled her close.
Outside, the Providence River moved beneath a gray winter sky.
Tomorrow Celeste Hart would return.
May you like
This time not as the woman hiding in Claire’s bedroom.
As a witness.
