Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
Hillary watched as Claire gulped back her fear. "Is everything alright?"
Claire hesitated, glancing toward the door as if weighing her next words. "No one should have the number to the residence here," she murmured, almost to herself. "No one should know I’m here." She turned to Sophie, her voice cracking with nerves. "Who... who was it?"
Sophie shifted uncomfortably; her hands clasped in front of her. "I’m not sure, miss," she said softly. "I asked, but the caller wouldn’t give her name. It was a woman, though. She sounded... stern. Impatient."
Hillary saw the way Claire’s face tightened, a flicker of fear flashing in her eyes. "How did they find me?" Claire whispered, her voice laced with anxiety. Without another word, she spun on her heel and hurried out of the library, Sophie trailing after her with a worried glance back at Russ and Hillary.
Hillary considered following, feeling a strong pull to help, to somehow uncover whatever trouble Claire was facing. But a part of her knew if she and Russ showed up uninvited to some clandestine phone call, they’d likely only spook Claire further. Whatever was happening, it was clear she was trying to handle it alone—and perhaps wasn’t ready to let anyone in just yet.
Russ seemed to read her thoughts, placing a hand on her arm. "Let’s give her some space. But obviously something is wrong.”
Hillary nodded reluctantly, though worry gnawed at her. They left the library together, walking back down the dim hallways in silence. The creak of the floorboards beneath their feet was the only sound, echoing in the quiet night.
When they reached their room, Hillary was surprised to find Madame Fournier waiting for them. She stood by the window, her posture rigid, eyes focused on the dark grounds beyond. At the sound of their footsteps, she turned, her expression indecipherable but her gaze sharp.
"Madame Fournier," Hillary greeted cautiously. “We were just with Claire, but she got a phone call and stepped away.”
“Has she told you anything?” There was a new urgency in the old woman’s face that sent a chill up Hillary’s spine.
“We’ve only just started talking with her,” Russ cautioned. “She doesn’t know us at all.”
“You need to get her talking. Her life is in grave danger and yet she keeps the rest of us shut out. That phone call, who did she say it was?”
“She didn’t,” Hillary interjected. “And how do you know her life is in danger? It sounds as though maybe her mother and grandmother don’t like the path she is on and are raising a false alarm. But just because she’s chosen her career?—”
“That’s not it,” Madame Fournier bit out angrily. “Someone is trying to kill her. That’s why we insisted she come up here. Turned the gala into such a large event. We knew she’d feel compelled to come. But if the person on the phone...”
“Why do you think someone wants to kill her?” Russ asked, leaning in slightly though keeping his voice low in the echoing hallway. “You sound very certain of it.”
“That’s complicated. I’ve promised her mother I would not do anything to jeopardize their already tenuous relationship and there is some information that surely would.”
“You’re talking to an investigative journalist and a lawyer,” Hillary said firmly. “We’re not going to be able to make the progress you want without the whole picture. It was apparent Claire was very worried about that phone call. Tell us what you know.”
“Her mother is a good woman,” Madame Fournier said in that way people do when they know you will think otherwise.
Madame Fournier let out a heavy sigh, her gaze shifting toward the window as if gathering her thoughts before beginning. “Claire’s mother has... a strong sense of control. Ever since Claire was a teenager, her mother has kept a close eye on her. At first, it was a matter of safety. Claire was young, curious, full of life, and... rebellious. Her mother feared she would fall in with the wrong crowd, make reckless choices.”
Hillary crossed her arms, a disapproving frown tugging at her lips. “So, she had her followed? Are we talking a private investigator?”
“Not exactly,” Madame Fournier replied, though her voice held a hint of defensiveness. “It was more subtle. She employed people to keep tabs on Claire, people who would naturally blend into her life. They weren’t intrusive... at least, not in the beginning. They were simply meant to observe from a distance, to report back if she got herself into any compromising situations.”
Russ shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tight. “That sounds pretty intrusive to me. You’re saying her mother hired people to watch her own daughter—without her knowledge?”
Madame Fournier’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly uncomfortable with this questioning. “Yes, I agree it’s extreme. But you must understand her mother’s mindset. She believes it was necessary to protect Claire. And, as time went on, some of these people became more than distant observers. They integrated themselves into her life as friends, colleagues... even confidants.”
Hillary’s disgust was evident as she shook her head. “That’s a huge violation of privacy. Claire is a grown woman. She has a right to live her life without interference, especially from people who are supposed to be close to her.”
Madame Fournier didn’t argue. “I don’t condone it. In fact, I wasn’t aware of the full extent of her mother’s tactics until recently. Last month, when Claire’s life appeared to be in real danger, her mother confided in me. That’s when I learned about the people she had embedded in Claire’s orbit.”
“So, these people, her supposed friends... they’re actually plants?” Russ asked, his voice laced with distaste.
“Some of them, yes,” Madame Fournier admitted, her tone heavy with regret. “It’s not something I support. And believe me, if I had known earlier, I would have confronted her mother about it. But now things have escalated.”
Hillary raised an eyebrow. “Escalated how? What kind of danger is Claire in?”
Madame Fournier hesitated, as if weighing how much to reveal. “We don’t know the full extent, but people in Claire’s life have reported she’s been receiving threats. Her car was tampered with. The brakes cut. There was an attempted attack in her home but luckily one of her friends noticed something was off with the door lock and talked her into going downstairs and waiting for the police to come check it out. They saw a man jump from the fire escape and run off. There was a knife missing from her kitchen. There are phone calls that mentioned Claire by name, her routines, her work schedule. Someone was watching her, closely enough to know personal details that only someone in her inner circle would know.”
Russ exchanged a grim look with Hillary. “I’m guessing that friend who told her not to go in is one of those hired plants?”
“I believe so. The more her mother tries to hold on, the more Claire pulls away. And with Claire’s independence, her mother’s constant meddling has driven a wedge between them. Claire has no idea of the extent to which her life has been monitored. All she knows is that she feels smothered and mistrustful of her family, but she doesn’t understand the full scope. So she’s not reaching out for help with these threats. Her mother doesn’t want to ask her directly because it will bring to light how intrusive she’s been.”
Hillary felt a surge of empathy for Claire, coupled with a sharp frustration at the situation. “This is twisted.”
Madame Fournier’s gaze turned steely. “That’s why I need the two of you. Claire has pushed away everyone else in her life. But she doesn’t know you, doesn’t have any history with you. If anyone can reach her, make her feel seen and understood... it’s you two.”
Russ threw up his hands, a look of sheer frustration contorting his face. “This is insane. They’re asking us to do the exact same thing they’ve been doing for years—getting inside Claire’s life without her permission, manipulating her. We might be staying here for safety, and I appreciate the refuge, but I am not going to pretend to be someone I’m not just to spy on her. I’m done with this.”
He turned to Hillary, expecting her to share his outrage. But she hesitated, her gaze steady on Madame Fournier as if she were weighing a silent decision. Her expression was serious, a quiet determination brewing in her eyes.
Finally, she looked up, breaking the silence. “We’ll do it.”
Russ’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Hillary, are you serious?”
Hillary nodded slowly, her tone resolute. “We’ll find out what’s going on with Claire. And we’ll keep her safe.”
Madame Fournier’s expression shifted from tense to something almost relieved. She didn’t wait for Russ to interject or argue further; instead, she locked eyes with Hillary, gave a firm, approving nod, and then swept out of the room, leaving them alone.
Russ stood there, flabbergasted, his hands still half-raised as if he were caught in the middle of a protest. He stared at Hillary, his exasperation palpable. “Hillary, what are you thinking? This isn’t us. This is the exact kind of manipulation Claire’s been suffering under her whole life. You’re a lawyer—you know this isn’t ethical!”
Hillary’s face softened, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes as she looked down, seemingly caught between her principles and her instincts. “I know it’s not ethical, Russ,” she admitted, her voice laced with heavy resignation. “And I hate the idea of deceiving her. But Claire may be in real danger. This isn’t about playing mind games; it’s about protecting her if that’s what she needs.”
Russ shook his head, incredulous. “And you think the best way to protect her is by becoming yet another person in her life who’s lying to her? Another person keeping secrets?”
“No,” Hillary said firmly, meeting his gaze with a quiet intensity. “But I think the best way to protect her is to gain her trust. We don’t need to deceive her or lie to her. We just need to be close enough to understand what’s really going on, close enough that she might trust us enough to open up.”
Russ let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “And if she finds out we’re here on orders from her mother?”
“We need to help. I’m not going to lie to her but you and I can’t get on the road again and pray we don’t end up dead. You are a witness in an important trial. You’re going to help put someone very dangerous behind bars. And maybe while we’re here we can help Claire.”
Russ studied her for a long moment, his gaze searching her face. Finally, he let out a slow breath, the fight draining from his stance. “Fine. But if it comes down to us having to leave or helping Claire, my bags will be packed.”