Val’s eyes went wide and her heart banged harder. What to do… Oh my God, what do I do? “Bridget…” Words wouldn’t come. Val put her hands up in a stop motion.

“You need to shush. Before someone hears you,” Bridget said, in a low, whispered warning. She cocked her head back, looking over her shoulder at Claudia’s bedroom door, then back at Val.

Val tried to comprehend what was happening. “You… you can talk?” It was all Val could manage to say as Bridget continued to grow closer.

“Yes, I can,” she said in a singsong voice.

Val’s gaze shifted towards Claudia’s room. The door was ajar. Her gaze shot to the bedroom window. It was light outside. Oh my God, how long have I been in this house? She’d been hit on the head at night. But she couldn’t think about that right now. Now, she needed to escape.

“Bridget, where’s Claudia?” Val whispered quickly. It was at this moment she noticed Bridget’s glassy eyes and lost stare.

“In there.” Bridget pointed towards Claudia’s door. “Don’t worry. She’s dead. That’s not the person you’re hiding from.”

38

Gavin and Warren sat with Scott Payne in the interrogation room. He was a little worried that Val hadn’t texted him back last night. When he arrived at Bethany’s condo, Val was nowhere to be seen, albeit he was about an hour late. She must have gone home, he thought. But she had yet to respond.

Gavin’s phone buzzed and he quickly looked down. The text was from an unknown number and he put the phone away. Though he was eagerly waiting to hear from Val, he wanted no distractions while questioning Mr. Payne.

“I had no idea Gabrielle Morgan was part of the Morgan family until I saw it in the news after her death. What about her life, how she lived, would have led me to believe anything like that?” He sat back with an incredulous expression, almost bordering on how dare you question me about this. “Keep in mind I managed the Chandler Trust for Malcom Chandler and his wife, Gabrielle Chandler. I never met Mrs. Chandler and never saw her while I managed the trust.”

“Gabrielle came to work for you. Slept with you. She must have wanted something from you, Mr. Payne,” Warren said.

“If she wanted some type of revenge on me, well, she never tried it. We had a good relationship, while it lasted.”

“You want us to believe she didn’t attempt revenge on the person who screwed her over on a stock deal?” Warren stared at Scott.

“Short selling is not screwing someone over. I had no clue what was going on with that drug. That scandal… I simply brokered a deal, which was my job.”