Chapter 4 - GRETCHEN WAS NOT AS LOYAL AS HE THOUGHT
The insurer denied Brandon’s request for accelerated payment on Monday.
Not the claim.
Just the rush.
The letter said recovery of remains, additional witness interviews, and expanded review were required.
Marcus arranged for word to reach Brandon through ordinary channels.
No tricks.
No forged documents.
Just bureaucracy doing what bureaucracy did best.
Slowing people down.
Brandon reacted within six hours.
We knew because Gretchen called Dana Lowell personally.
“She wanted to know whether witness testimony could substitute for remains,” Dana told us.
“What did she say she saw?” Marcus asked.
“That Claire slipped.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“Did she say Brandon touched me?”
“No.”
“Did she place herself near the cliff?”
“Yes.”
That was useful.
Because if she later changed her story, we had it documented.
Then something stranger happened.
Gretchen asked to meet Dana in person.
Private.
No Brandon.
Marcus’s expression changed immediately.
“Why?”
“She said she has ‘sensitive information about the policy.’”
I stared.
“She’s nervous.”
“Maybe.”
“Or greedy.”
“Also maybe.”
Dana agreed to meet her at a downtown hotel lounge.
Marcus wanted audio.
Legal authorization took time.
But Dana could attend as an insurer representative and take detailed notes.
No police presence visible.
I wanted to go.
Marcus laughed.
“No.”
“I could sit across the room.”
“You are officially dead.”
“Right.”
I hated being dead.
It was surprisingly restrictive.
Instead, I stayed in a secured recovery apartment with Samuel.
Not the hospital anymore.
A quiet two-bedroom place under another name.
Dr. Ellis arranged follow-up care.
Caleb Moore, the rescuer, visited once.
He stood awkwardly by the door holding a stuffed bear.
“Didn’t know what babies like.”
“Neither do they.”
He smiled.
Samuel slept through the whole visit.
I thanked him.
Caleb shook his head.
“You stayed awake.”
“Barely.”
“You told me the truth before you passed out.”
“What made you believe me?”
He thought.
“Your husband had already told command not to risk more men searching because the fall was ‘obviously unsurvivable.’”
My blood turned cold.
“He said that?”
“Before we found you.”
There it was.
Another mistake.
A husband should beg.
Demand.
Search.
Brandon had wanted the mountain to keep me.
“Will you testify?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
That helped.
At four, Marcus returned from monitoring the Gretchen meeting.
His face was unreadable.
“What happened?”
He sat.
“Gretchen wants money.”
I laughed.
“Of course.”
“Not from the insurer.”
“From Brandon?”
“From us, indirectly.”
I frowned.
“She asked Dana whether there’s a whistleblower reward for exposing fraud.”
My eyebrows lifted.
“She’s flipping?”
“Maybe.”
“What did she say?”
Marcus opened his notes.
Gretchen claimed Brandon had pressured me into increasing the life insurance.
True.
Claimed he discussed how long accidental-death claims took without a body.
Interesting.
Claimed he had asked her to testify that I was depressed and reckless.
False story building.
Then Marcus looked at me.
“She also said Brandon has another woman.”
I stared.
Despite everything, that shocked me.
“Another?”
“Apparently.”
I laughed until my ribs hurt.
Gretchen had helped my husband murder me and still expected exclusivity.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Motivation.”
“She found out?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“His financial adviser.”
I closed my eyes.
Brandon was almost impressive in his stupidity.
“So now Gretchen is angry.”
“Very.”
“Will she admit he pushed me?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“She says she did not see the actual shove.”
I remembered.
She had been behind us.
Maybe true.
But she heard him.
“Did she admit hearing anything?”
Marcus nodded.
“She says Brandon told her beforehand that ‘the problem would be gone by sunset.’”
My skin went cold.
“And after?”
“She says he returned from the cliff edge and said, ‘It’s done.’”
I stared.
That was big.
“Will she say it officially?”
“Only if she gets immunity.”
“Can she?”
“Not my call.”
“Should she?”
Marcus studied me.
“You tell me.”
I hated the question.
Gretchen had stood above me.
Asked if I was dead.
Heard Brandon joke about fifty million.
Then walked away.
She was not innocent.
But if her testimony convicted him—
what mattered more?
Punishment for her?
Or truth about him?
“I want Brandon stopped.”
Marcus nodded.
“That may require using someone you hate.”
“I don’t hate her.”
He looked surprised.
“I should.”
I stared at Samuel sleeping in his carrier.
“But mostly I think she’s pathetic.”
Marcus almost smiled.
“Don’t say that in negotiations.”
“I won’t.”
That night, Brandon made another mistake.
He visited Glacier.
Alone.
Two park investigators observed him returning to the cliff area.
He carried a duffel bag.
My pulse jumped when Marcus told me.
“What was inside?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Did they stop him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because watching where he goes may tell us more.”
The answer frustrated me.
Then it paid off.
Brandon did not hike directly to the cliff.
He went to a service road two miles away.
Met a man.
Transferred the duffel.
Investigators photographed everything from distance.
The man was later identified as Todd Mercer.
Not related to me.
A seasonal maintenance contractor fired from the park two years earlier.
“What does he do now?” I asked.
“Private recovery work.”
That sounded innocent.
It wasn’t.
Marcus continued.
“He has prior charges for evidence tampering in an unrelated case.”
My stomach tightened.
“You think Brandon hired him to plant something.”
“Possibly.”
“Like what?”
Marcus looked at me.
“Remains.”
I stared.
“No.”
“Not necessarily human remains.”
“Then what?”
“Enough biological material to support a recovery narrative.”
I felt sick.
Hair.
Blood.
Clothing.
Anything that could make a remote site look like my death scene.
“Where would Brandon get my DNA?”
“Our house.”
Toothbrush.
Hairbrush.
Clothes.
Easy.
“What about Samuel?”
Marcus’s face hardened.
“If he intends to prove fetal death too, that becomes harder.”
I instinctively pulled Samuel closer.
“No.”
“He cannot reach Samuel.”
“I know.”
“Promise me.”
“He cannot.”
The fear was irrational.
Brandon thought Samuel was dead.
Still, I could not stop imagining him taking something that belonged to my son.
That was what attempted murder did.
It made every future threat feel already real.
The next morning, Todd Mercer was followed to a storage facility.
He removed a cooler.
Then drove toward Glacier.
This time, investigators stopped him.
Inside the cooler:
A blood-soaked section of fabric from one of my old maternity coats.
Several strands of my hair.
And animal bone fragments.
I stared at the inventory.
“Animal?”
“Deer.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“He was going to fake my remains with deer bones?”
“Likely.”
“Would that work?”
“No.”
“Then Brandon is stupid.”
“Greedy people often overestimate how much other people want to believe them.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Todd talked fast.
Faster than Gretchen.
He claimed Brandon paid him $100,000 to “help establish a recovery site.”
There were text messages.
Cash records.
Instructions.
Not attempted murder proof by itself.
But insurance fraud conspiracy?
Absolutely.
Marcus’s eyes finally held something close to satisfaction.
“We can get warrants now.”
“For Brandon’s phone?”
“Yes.”
My heart jumped.
“And house?”
“Yes.”
“Office?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Samuel.
This was moving.
For the first time, Brandon’s world was closing in.
Then Marcus’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face changed.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“Gretchen disappeared.”
My stomach dropped.
“What do you mean disappeared?”
“She missed a second meeting with Dana. Her apartment is empty.”
“Brandon?”
“We don’t know.”
My skin went cold.
“What if he knows she talked?”
“That’s what worries me.”
Then another call came.
This one from the team executing the warrant at my house.
Marcus put it on speaker.
“Detective, we found the mistress’s car.”
“Where?”
“In Brandon Bennett’s garage.”
I stood.
“What?”
The officer continued.
“Her phone is inside.”
My chest tightened.
“Where is Gretchen?”
“No sign of her.”
Marcus looked at me.
Then the officer said:
“And there’s blood in the trunk.”
I stopped breathing.
For one horrible second, I forgot everything Gretchen had done.
All I saw was another woman who had trusted Brandon.
Another woman who may have believed she was special.
Another woman who knew too much.
Marcus stood.
“Claire, stay here.”
“What happened to her?”
“We don’t know.”
“Is she dead?”
“We don’t know.”
There was that phrase again.
I hated it.
Marcus reached the door.
Then turned.
“If Brandon thinks Gretchen betrayed him, he may run.”
“Then catch him.”
“We will.”
He left.
I held Samuel against my chest.
Outside, Chicago snow began falling softly against the windows.
And for the first time, I wondered whether Brandon’s plan had started collapsing so completely that he was no longer trying to win.
Maybe now he was simply trying to survive.
May you like
That made him more dangerous.
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