Chapter 15 - Uncle Thomas
Thomas Whitmore landed at 6:05 p.m.
By 6:40, federal agents were waiting at the estate.
He arrived anyway.
Eighty years old. Silver cane. Navy suit. Calm as church.
“Alexander,” he said, “this has become embarrassing.”
Alexander almost laughed.
“Claire is dead.”
“Yes.”
“Noah was targeted.”
“Yes.”
“Rebecca kidnapped a child.”
“Yes.”
“And you call this embarrassing?”
Thomas sat without invitation.
“I call chaos embarrassing.”
Alexander placed Claire’s toxicology report on the table.
Thomas barely glanced at it.
That was enough.
“You knew.”
“I knew Claire had become dangerous to the company.”
I felt sick.
Alexander’s voice dropped. “Did you order her drugged?”
Thomas looked toward me.
“Staff shouldn’t be present.”
“I’m staying,” I said.
His mouth tightened.
Alexander repeated the question.
Thomas sighed.
“I ordered Evelyn to calm her before a family meeting. Nothing more.”
“You forged a prescription.”
“I protected a corporation employing twelve thousand people.”
“You protected yourself.”
Thomas finally showed anger.
“Your father left you a machine you barely understood. Claire wanted to open records that would have collapsed lenders, pensions, contracts—everything.”
Alexander stared at him.
“So Vanessa was your solution?”
“No. Vanessa was Nolan’s mistake.”
The room went silent.
Thomas continued. “I never told her to touch the child.”
“That is not a defense.”
Federal agents entered.
Thomas stood slowly.
Before they took him, he looked at Alexander.
“You think Claire wanted the truth released?”
“She died trying.”
May you like
Thomas shook his head.
“Then you never read the letter she hid in Noah’s nursery.”
