Chapter 9 - THE DRIVER
-9
His name was Thomas Redd.
He had worked for Whitmore Medical Group as a driver, maintenance worker, and occasional private security assistant.
He had disappeared from Chicago six months after Nicholas’s accident.
Walter recognized his name from an old personnel list.
Nicholas did not.
Thomas sat in the library under supervision.
His hands shook.
“I didn’t mean to kill your driver.”
Nicholas’s face hardened.
“You did.”
Thomas looked down.
“Yes.”
Hannah stood near Nicholas.
She had insisted he remain calm.
She knew that was almost absurd.
Thomas continued.
“Claire called me that night.”
“What did she say?” Walter asked.
“That Nicholas had stolen something that belonged to her family.”
Nicholas whispered:
“Rebecca’s phone.”
Thomas nodded.
“She said she needed you stopped before you met someone.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Nicholas remembered.
“I was going to Walter.”
Walter looked at him.
“You never told me.”
“I didn’t make it.”
Thomas continued.
“Dr. Whitmore came too.”
Hannah felt her stomach tighten.
“In the SUV?”
“Yes.”
“What was the plan?”
“Force his car off the road. Scare him. Get the phone.”
Nicholas stared.
“And then?”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“Dr. Whitmore told me to hit harder.”
“Why?”
“He said Nicholas had already heard too much.”
The room became silent.
Hannah watched Nicholas’s face.
Grief.
Rage.
Then something colder.
“What happened after the crash?”
“I panicked.”
“Did you stop?”
“Yes.”
“You left my driver dying.”
Thomas’s voice cracked.
“Whitmore checked your pulse.”
Nicholas went still.
“He touched me?”
“Yes.”
“He thought you were going to die.”
“And Claire?”
Thomas began crying harder.
“She wanted the phone.”
Nicholas whispered:
“Of course.”
“They searched the car.”
“Did they find it?”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
There it was.
The missing phone.
Claire had recovered it.
Thomas continued.
“Then another vehicle came around the curve. We left.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Whitmore paid me.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
Nicholas laughed without humor.
“My driver died for two hundred thousand dollars.”
Thomas’s face collapsed.
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
Hannah touched Nicholas’s shoulder.
He was breathing too fast.
“Slow.”
His anger shifted toward her.
“My friend died.”
“I know.”
“You don’t.”
“No.”
She held his gaze.
“But passing out from hyperventilation will not change that.”
Nicholas stared at her.
Then forced himself to breathe.
Thomas said:
“I came because Claire found me.”
Walter frowned.
“What?”
“She sent someone last week.”
“To threaten you?”
“Yes.”
“Why now?”
“Because Whitmore thinks everything is collapsing.”
Thomas reached inside his jacket slowly.
Security tensed.
He pulled out a flash drive.
“I kept this.”
Walter took it.
“What is it?”
“A copy of dash-camera footage.”
Nicholas stared.
“You recorded the crash?”
“The SUV had an internal camera system.”
Hannah’s heartbeat accelerated.
“Why keep it?”
“Insurance.”
Thomas laughed bitterly.
“People like Whitmore teach you to keep insurance.”
Walter connected the drive to an isolated laptop.
The video appeared.
Timestamp matched the accident.
Rain.
Road.
Nicholas’s sedan ahead.
Then Whitmore’s voice.
“Closer.”
Claire:
“Not here.”
Whitmore:
“He reaches Bell, we're finished.”
Thomas:
“This is enough.”
Whitmore:
“Hit him.”
The footage shook violently.
Metal screamed.
Nicholas’s sedan spun.
Then Claire shouted:
“Again!”
Thomas braked.
Whitmore:
“Again!”
The recording ended.
Nobody moved.
Nicholas looked as though someone had hollowed him out.
Hannah watched his hands.
Steady.
No tremor.
He whispered:
“My fiancée.”
No one answered.
“My future father-in-law.”
Still nothing.
“They tried to kill me.”
Walter closed the laptop.
“Yes.”
Nicholas turned toward Hannah.
“And then they spent eight months poisoning me.”
“Yes.”
The truth was complete enough now.
But the biggest question remained.
Why hadn’t Claire simply left after the crash?
Why stay?
Why nurse the public image of devotion?
Why pursue marriage?
The answer came from another file Thomas carried.
Before the accident, Nicholas had planned to testify privately in a federal financial inquiry concerning medical billing tied to Whitmore’s clinics.
Not because Nicholas was innocent.
Not because he suddenly wanted to become righteous.
Because Whitmore had used Valenti-owned logistics companies to route shipments and falsify records without Nicholas’s consent.
Rebecca’s evidence had shown him enough to understand his family companies had been used.
Nicholas planned to cut Whitmore off.
And cooperate enough to protect the legitimate portions of the Valenti empire.
Claire knew.
If Nicholas survived and recovered mentally, her father could lose everything.
If Nicholas died suddenly, scrutiny might intensify.
But if Nicholas remained disabled, confused, medicated, and dependent?
He could be managed.
Hannah felt sick.
Claire’s engagement photographs.
Her public devotion.
Her interviews.
Every smile had been part of a shield.
The devoted fiancée.
The tragic love story.
Who would suspect her?
That afternoon, authorities were contacted through Nicholas’s attorneys.
Thomas agreed to cooperate.
The evidence was copied.
Preserved.
Secured.
Nicholas said little.
Later, Hannah found him alone in the dark library.
“You should eat.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
“You’re very bossy.”
“You’re very predictable.”
He looked at her.
“What do you want from me?”
“Dinner.”
“No.”
She moved toward the door.
“Then I’ll bring soup.”
“Hannah.”
She turned.
His expression changed.
“Did you ever believe Claire?”
“About what?”
“That she loved me.”
Hannah thought carefully.
“She may have.”
He laughed.
“What kind of answer is that?”
“A realistic one.”
“You think someone can love you and poison you?”
“I think people can call possession love.”
Nicholas looked away.
“My mother used to say Claire made me softer.”
“Maybe she did.”
“Rebecca hated her at the end.”
“With reason.”
“I still chose Claire.”
“You didn’t know everything.”
“I knew my sister was afraid.”
Hannah approached.
“You were manipulated by someone you trusted.”
“That sounds weak.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“It sounds human.”
He laughed quietly.
“You say things nobody around me says.”
“Probably why your staff turnover is high.”
He smiled.
Then his face became serious.
“When this is over, Ethan gets the surgery.”
Hannah stiffened.
“Nicholas.”
“No conditions.”
“I said no.”
“I know.”
“Then why repeat it?”
“Because I’m not offering a gift.”
“What are you offering?”
“A debt.”
“I don’t owe you.”
“I owe you.”
Hannah shook her head.
“You pay me.”
“You saved my life.”
“I did my job.”
“You stood between me and someone hitting me when you were five-foot-four and wearing ten-dollar sneakers.”
“They were thirty-dollar sneakers.”
“That changes everything.”
She almost laughed.
Then he said:
“I’m alive because you noticed.”
Her expression softened.
“That doesn’t mean you buy my brother’s care.”
“Then let me fund the hospital program anonymously.”
Hannah stared.
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She finally said:
“We discuss it after your case is stable.”
Nicholas nodded.
“Fair.”
Before she left, he added:
“Hannah.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
She paused.
Then nodded.
That night, Walter received a message.
Claire wanted to meet Nicholas.
Alone.
No lawyers.
No police.
No Hannah.
Nicholas read it.
Then smiled without humor.
“She finally wants to talk.”
Hannah shook her head.
“No.”
“She may confess.”
“She may also finish what she started.”
May you like
Nicholas looked at her.
“Then we make sure she thinks she’s alone with me.”
