Regina had suspected him but could prove nothing.
When she accused Patrick privately, he threatened to portray Julian’s marriage as fraud, freeze the trust, expose Regina’s panic medication to the board, and accuse her of arranging Julian’s death for control of the company.
“That medication box in the kitchen,” I said.
“Panic attacks,” Regina answered.
“They started after Julian died.
Patrick photographed the prescriptions.
He said unstable women do not run public companies.”
The calls she had ended when I entered were calls to private investigators.
The photograph in her drawer was the last picture taken of Julian alive.
The locked room held every clue she had collected but could not connect.
“And the clause about my death?”
Regina closed her eyes.
“Benton said it was mandatory because Julian’s estate had sued over unpaid obligations after his death.
I hated the wording.
I signed anyway because the deadline was approaching and my father refused to postpone the vote again.”
“You knew a man had died under the same contract, and you let me sign without telling me.”
“Yes.”
The word was quiet, but it hit harder than any excuse.
“You decided my desperation mattered more than my right to know.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me worry about my mother while you hid a grave behind a locked door.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she did not ask me to forgive her.
“I told myself Patrick wanted to frighten me, not kill again.
I told myself Julian died because he found the money, and you would never touch the company accounts.
Then you defended me at dinner.
You challenged Patrick.
You became visible.”
“And you still said nothing.”
“I was afraid you would leave.”
I laughed once, without humor.
“That would have been my choice.”
A vehicle turned into the driveway.
Evelyn moved to the window and pulled the curtain aside by less than an inch.
“Patrick,” she said.
Regina’s expression changed.
The frightened woman disappeared behind the controlled face that had intimidated entire boardrooms.
“How did he know you were here?” I asked Evelyn.
“He saw me in the garage.”
The doorbell rang once.
Then Patrick’s voice came through the intercom.
“Regina, open the door.
Benton is with me.
We need to discuss your husband’s breach of contract.”
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number contained a photograph of my mother entering the hospital that afternoon.
Below it were six words.
Accidents happen to people you love.
I showed Regina.
For the first time since I had known her, she looked openly murderous.
Patrick knocked again.
“You have thirty seconds,” he called.
“Then I call security and report that an unstable woman is holding an employee against his will.”
He believed he had already won.
He had the lawyer, the trust deadline, the company security team, and years of practice turning Regina’s fear into obedience.
I picked up Julian’s recorder.
“Does he know what is on this?”
