Chapter 4 - The Shadow in the Mirror
I didn't scream. I grabbed the heavy marble soap dispenser from the counter, spun around, and raised it like a club.
"Easy, Clara," a gravelly, exhausted voice rasped. "You hit me with that, and you won't have a lawyer in the morning."
The man stepped out of the shadows. He was in his late fifties, wearing a rumpled charcoal trench coat dusted with melting snow. His gray hair was clipped short, and a silver cigarette case peeked from his breast pocket.
"Marcus Croft," I breathed, lowering the marble dispenser an inch. "How did you get in here?"
"Julian gave me a key six months ago," Croft said, closing the bathroom door softly behind him. "When he first noticed the missing trust allocations. He knew his family was closing the walls in. He just didn't think they’d be stupid enough to try murder."
Croft walked over to the vanity, leaned down, and dipped his pinky finger near the white powder. He didn't taste it; he pulled a small chemical test vial from his coat pocket, scraped a fraction of the dust inside, and shook it.
The liquid turned a foul, murky violet.
"Methotrexate," Croft said, his jaw tightening. "High dose. It's a chemotherapy drug. In early pregnancy, it terminates the fetus. In late pregnancy, it triggers massive placental abruption and fatal maternal hemorrhaging."
The room spun. My knees buckled. Croft caught me by the elbow, guiding me gently down onto the closed toilet lid.
"They weren't trying to make me miscarry," I choked out, tears finally breaking free. "They were trying to kill both of us. Why? Julian gave Evelyn half his salary! He paid Megan’s credit card debts every single month! *Why?*"
"Because Julian isn't Arthur Vance’s only beneficiary anymore," Croft said, pulling a folded document from his inside pocket. "When Julian married you, Arthur’s living will triggered a succession amendment. Under the terms of the Vance Foundation charter, the estate skips Megan entirely. It passes to Julian's firstborn child on their day of birth."
"And if the baby isn't born?" I asked, cold dread pooling in my chest.
"If the baby dies before delivery, and Julian is incarcerated or declared mentally unstable, full executive power of the sixty-million-dollar trust reverts back to the living matriarch. Evelyn."
"My God."
"It gets worse," Croft said, his eyes darkening. "Look at your phone. Julian’s bail hearing was just moved up to seven o'clock tomorrow morning. Evelyn’s lawyers filed an emergency petition for an ex-parte protective order."
"On what grounds?"
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"They’re claiming Julian is suffering from acute paranoid schizophrenia. And to prove it..." Croft paused, looking at me with grim sorrow. "...they just submitted an affidavit signed by your own mother."
***
