“The bad man?” Pierce asked. “Who is the bad man?”

“The one who works with the money,” Sophie said. “The one with the shiny teeth.”

“Richard Sterling,” I said, looking at Pierce. “The CFO.”

Pierce took his notepad out and scribbled the name down.

I turned to the final pages of the journal, dated just days before the fatal crash.

The entry was short, only three lines long.

“The brakes on the SUV felt soft on the pass today,” Claire had written.

“I took it to the dealer, but they said everything was fine.”

“I don’t trust them. I don’t trust anyone in this house anymore.”

Pierce stared at the words, his face pale.

“The official report on the crash said it was driver error due to black ice,” he whispered.

“She knew,” I said, my voice rising slightly. “She knew they were tampering with her car.”

“This isn’t just embezzlement anymore, Elena,” Pierce said, looking up at the ceiling.

“If Sterling tampered with that vehicle, it’s a completely different charge.”

“He killed her,” I said, the realization hitting me like a physical blow.