Chapter 27 - The Daughter Evelyn Buried
Evelyn Voss had a daughter.
Her name had been Clara.
She died at nineteen.
The record was difficult to find because Clara had not carried the Voss name.
Her birth certificate identified her as Clara Elisabeth Weiss.
Father unknown.
Mother listed as Elisabeth Weiss.
A false identity.
But photographs proved it.
Evelyn and Clara had the same eyes.
Clara attended boarding school in Switzerland.
Then university in Boston.
At nineteen, she died after falling from the roof of a private residential building in Cambridge.
Official ruling: suicide.
Year: 2009.
The same year Evelyn financed Julian.
I stared at the file.
“What does this have to do with Vanguard?”
Julian looked pale.
“Everything.”
“What aren't you telling me?”
He sat slowly.
“In 2009, I met a girl.”
My stomach tightened.
“Clara?”
“I didn't know her name.”
“What happened?”
“She came to Vanguard’s office asking for me. She said her mother financed companies that hurt people.”
“And?”
“She had documents.”
“What documents?”
“Financial records. Bribes. Political payments.”
“Meridian.”
“The earliest version.”
I understood.
“Clara was the source.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I arranged to meet her again.”
“But she died.”
“The night before.”
Silence.
“Evelyn thinks you caused it.”
“I don't know.”
“What does that mean?”
Julian looked tortured.
“Clara called me that night. I didn't answer.”
“Why?”
“I was meeting investors trying to save Vanguard.”
My heart sank.
“She left a voicemail.”
“What did she say?”
Julian closed his eyes.
“She said she was scared. She asked me to call her back.”
“And you didn't hear it until morning.”
“Yes.”
Evelyn had spent seventeen years blaming him.
Not for killing Clara.
For not saving her.
Suddenly her obsession with families made terrible sense.
“She sees me as the life Clara never had.”
Julian nodded.
“Husband. Child. Career.”
“And you as the man who gave me what you couldn't give her.”
“Yes.”
I sat beside him.
“This isn't about money.”
“No.”
“It never was.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Evelyn.
I answered.
“You found her.”
Not a question.
“Yes.”
A long silence.
“Clara was brilliant,” Evelyn said.
“I believe you.”
“She believed truth mattered.”
“So do I.”
“She trusted Julian.”
Julian looked at me.
“Evelyn—”
“She called him.”
“I know.”
“He ignored her.”
“He missed a call.”
“He chose money.”
“No.”
Her breathing changed.
“You don't get to rewrite it.”
“And you don't get to make seventeen years of grief everyone else’s punishment.”
Silence.
I continued.
“Clara discovered what you were doing.”
“She was a child.”
“She was nineteen.”
“She didn't understand.”
“She understood enough to be afraid.”
Evelyn’s voice cracked for the first time.
“You know nothing.”
“I know you’re still trying to control her story because you couldn't control her choices.”
The line went dead.
Thirty seconds later, Marcus burst into the room.
“We have Patricia’s location.”
“Where?”
“An old estate near Gloucester.”
Julian stood.
“Tactical team.”
I stopped him.
“No.”
He stared at me.
“Meredith—”
“Evelyn isn't waiting for a gunfight.”
“How do you know?”
“Because if she wanted Patricia dead, she’d already be dead.”
“What does she want?”
I looked at Clara’s photograph.
“She wants someone to tell her she wasn't responsible.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“Was she?”
“I don't know.”
May you like
But I knew one thing.
We were going to find out.
