Chapter 5 - Camille’s Father Finally Told the Truth
Marc Laurent chose the meeting place.
A private dining room in Chicago.
No police.
No security visible.
Adrian agreed to the location.
He did not agree to the rest.
Two investigators sat in the restaurant kitchen.
Another waited across the street.
Marc arrived exactly on time.
Sixty-one.
Silver at the temples.
Expensive navy suit.
He looked more like a banker than a man accused of helping bury twenty-one years of secrets.
Camille stood when he entered.
“Where is Mom?”
Marc stopped.
No greeting.
No surprise.
Just that question between them.
He looked at Thomas.
“So you finally came home.”
Thomas stayed seated.
“You finally stopped hiding behind your daughter.”
Marc’s expression hardened.
Adrian spoke.
“My fiancée is not a shield.”
Camille looked at him.
Fiancée.
He had not said former.
But he had not said future wife either.
Marc noticed too.
He sat.
“You want the truth?”
Adrian answered.
“We want what you can prove.”
That was Thomas’s lesson turned against him.
Marc smiled.
“Good.”
He placed a flash drive on the table.
Camille reached for it.
He covered it with his hand.
“One condition.”
Adrian laughed softly.
“No.”
Marc looked at him.
“You haven’t heard it.”
“I don’t negotiate with a man who sent his daughter into my life without telling me why.”
Camille flinched.
Marc looked at her.
“I told you he would turn on you.”
She stared back.
“You told me he would never understand.”
“And was I wrong?”
Camille looked at Adrian.
“No.”
Her voice steadied.
“You were wrong about everything.”
Marc’s hand left the flash drive.
That was the first crack.
Thomas asked, “Where is Genevieve?”
Marc looked at him.
“Alive.”
Camille stopped breathing.
I felt Adrian’s hand tighten against the chair.
“Where?”
Marc ignored her.
Thomas leaned forward.
“Marc.”
“Canada.”
Camille stood.
“Where in Canada?”
“Quebec.”
“What city?”
Marc finally looked at his daughter.
“I don’t know anymore.”
She stared.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I moved her seventeen years ago.”
Adrian’s voice sharpened.
“You moved her?”
Marc nodded.
“After our father died, Genevieve tried to expose the old accounts.”
Camille whispered, “Your wife.”
“My wife.”
His expression changed slightly.
“She was going to destroy the family.”
Thomas laughed without humor.
“The family was already rotten.”
Marc ignored him.
“Genevieve believed the police would protect her.”
“They didn’t.”
Thomas’s voice was quiet.
Marc looked at him.
“No.”
For once, they agreed.
Marc continued.
“I gave her a choice. Leave with a new identity or stay and risk everything.”
Camille stared.
“You told me she died.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if you knew she was alive, you would look for her.”
“And you didn’t want that.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Marc looked toward Thomas.
“Because she knew why he disappeared.”
Adrian leaned forward.
“Then tell us.”
Marc’s eyes moved to him.
“Thomas didn’t run from us.”
Silence.
“He ran from his own father.”
Adrian looked at Thomas.
Thomas did not deny it.
Marc continued.
“Your grandfather learned Thomas was copying the accounts. He ordered men to bring him back.”
Adrian’s face changed.
“My grandfather?”
“Yes.”
Thomas finally spoke.
“Your grandfather believed blood excused everything.”
Adrian stared at him.
“You let me grow up worshipping him.”
Thomas looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
Marc pushed the flash drive toward Camille.
“Genevieve recorded part of the meeting where your grandfather ordered me to find Thomas.”
Camille picked it up.
“Why keep this?”
“Insurance.”
That word again.
Adrian asked, “What do you want?”
Marc smiled sadly.
“Nothing now.”
Thomas frowned.
“Why?”
Marc looked at his daughter.
“Because she chose you.”
Camille’s expression hardened.
“I chose the truth.”
Marc nodded.
“That is worse.”
He stood.
Adrian did not stop him.
“Where are the lake house records?”
Marc looked toward the door.
“Gone.”
Thomas stood.
“You destroyed them?”
“No.”
Marc looked back.
“Genevieve took them.”
Camille froze.
“When?”
“Seventeen years ago.”
“That cabinet was empty because—”
“She emptied it herself.”
Marc nodded.
“She did not trust me.”
Camille almost laughed.
“Smart woman.”
Marc’s face tightened.
Before leaving, he looked at his daughter one last time.
“She contacts me once a year.”
Camille’s eyes widened.
“When?”
“On your birthday.”
Her voice broke.
“You talk to her?”
“No.”
“A letter?”
“One postcard.”
“From where?”
“Different city every year.”
He reached into his coat.
One postcard.
No return address.
A picture of Quebec City in winter.
On the back:
CAMILLE DESERVES TO CHOOSE HER OWN FAMILY.
Signed only:
M.
Camille held it with both hands.
Adrian looked at Marc.
“Last contact?”
Marc answered.
“Three weeks ago.”
Thomas went still.
The same week the watch had been engraved.
Adrian understood too.
“You were all moving at the same time.”
Marc nodded.
“Because Genevieve told me Thomas was coming home.”
Then he left.
Camille stared at the postcard.
Thomas stared at the flash drive.
Adrian looked at both of them.
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