The Photograph He Tried to Use
Chapter 02 - The Photograph He Tried to Use
Mason entered the bedroom smiling, but one hand remained inside his coat.
“Forget something?” Claire asked.
“My watch.” His eyes moved to the nightstand. “And my phone.”
Claire held it up. The airport selfie glowed between them.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Mason’s smile vanished. “You went through my phone?”
“You scheduled a lie using my face.”
He stepped closer. “Give it to me.”
She enlarged the caption. “Why does the world need to think I left with you?”
Mason used the calm voice he saved for angry investors. “You’re exhausted. The audit has made you paranoid.”
“That photograph was taken before my father died.”
“It was a happy day.”
“You turned it into evidence.”
His expression changed. He was no longer trying to reassure his wife. He was judging how dangerous she had become.
Mason sat beside her and claimed the company was collapsing. Regulators needed someone to blame, and because Claire owned the controlling shares, responsibility would eventually fall on her. According to him, he had created an escape for both of them.
“By forging my signature?” she asked.
“By protecting us from a system already looking for a villain.”
Claire wanted to scream, but Naomi’s instruction echoed in her mind: Keep him talking.
“So Lisbon is our rescue?”
Mason relaxed. “A new name. A house near the water. Enough money that no one can touch us.”
“What about the employees whose pensions disappeared?”
“They’ll recover. People always do.”
Claire thought of Walter Diaz, who had postponed his wife’s surgery after his retirement savings vanished. Mason had reduced hundreds of lives to numbers he expected to fix themselves.
She lowered the phone. “Where is the transfer key?”
His gaze flicked toward the suitcase.
That glance gave her the answer.
Mason took the phone and searched the messages. Claire had already deleted her conversation with Naomi.
“You didn’t contact anyone?” he asked.
She shook her head.
He laughed with relief. “You were always better at pretending than people realized.”
The words hurt. For twelve years, Claire had defended him to her father, the board, and herself. Now he admired her only because he believed she had chosen to become like him.
Mason pulled the flash drive from the suitcase lining and placed it on the dresser. “Pack one bag. We leave in twenty minutes.”
Claire looked toward the bathroom, where her own phone was hidden beneath a towel, recording every word.
“I need coffee first,” she said.
“Make mine black.”
As Claire walked away, her phone vibrated once.
May you like
Naomi had sent one final message:
We heard enough. Keep him there.
