The Woman Before Sienna
Chapter 12 - The Woman Before Sienna
Her name was Natalie Price.
Forty-two.
Divorced.
One son in college.
Former controller at Hale Coastal.
When Naomi pulled up her employment history, I knew the face.
Natalie had been at our wedding.
Not as a friend.
As an employee.
She stood three rows behind Eleanor in a pale gray dress.
I found her in a photograph.
Camden's hand rested lightly at my waist.
Natalie looked directly at the camera.
I stared at her for a long time.
"Five years?" I asked.
Naomi nodded.
"Payments begin five years ago."
"How much?"
"Roughly two hundred seventy thousand total."
"For what?"
"Consulting, according to Hale Coastal."
"Did she consult?"
"Not after she left the company four years ago."
My mind went where any wife's mind would go.
"Was he sleeping with her?"
"We don't know."
Sienna did.
When I sent her the name, she called within thirty seconds.
"Where did you get that?"
"You know her."
Silence.
"Sienna."
"Camden told me she was blackmailing him."
"For what?"
"He said she stole from the company and threatened to blame him."
"Did you believe him?"
"At the time."
"Did you sleep with my husband at the time?"
She went quiet.
The cruelty of the question embarrassed me the moment I said it.
Not because it was untrue.
Because I was using pain to score points against someone who could not undo what she had done.
I rubbed my forehead.
"Forget that."
"No," she said.
"I deserve it."
"That doesn't make it useful."
Another silence.
That was the first civil conversation we had ever had.
"Do you have Natalie's number?" I asked.
"No. But I know where Camden met her."
"Where?"
"A storage facility outside Wilmington."
It sounded absurd.
Then nothing sounded absurd anymore.
Mara did not want me going.
Naomi definitely did not want me going.
Peter Voss suggested we contact investigators.
I agreed.
That was another thing changing in me.
The old Claire would have driven there herself because waiting felt weak.
I was learning that restraint was not passivity.
Sometimes the most powerful move was allowing other people to do their jobs.
Two days later, Natalie Price walked into Mara's office voluntarily.
She had a lawyer with her.
She did not look like a mistress.
I realize how foolish that sentence is.
There is no look.
But she seemed tired, practical, almost severe.
She wore reading glasses on a chain around her neck.
The first thing she said to me was, "I never slept with your husband."
I believed her.
Maybe because she did not ask me to.
"What were the payments?"
"Hush money."
Mara's pen stopped.
"For what?"
Natalie looked at her attorney.
He nodded.
She folded her hands.
"I found the first false invoices five years ago."
"Camden's?"
"Some."
"Some?"
She looked at Eleanor, who was sitting beside Naomi.
"Arthur started the system."
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Natalie continued.
"Camden modernized it."
The room went quiet.
Old shell vendors had become digital vendors.
Fake consulting contracts.
Inflated invoices.
Money moved between projects.
Camden had inherited not just his father's company.
He had inherited his methods.
"I confronted him," Natalie said.
"What happened?"
"He told me I was seeing temporary transfers during a liquidity crisis."
"Liquidity," I repeated.
She gave me a sad look.
"He likes that word."
"Apparently."
"I threatened to go to the board."
"Why didn't you?"
Her mouth tightened.
"Because he had documents showing I approved some of the invoices."
"You did?"
"I approved vendor batches. I did not know the vendors were fake."
Same trap as Sienna.
Different woman.
Same method.
"He said if I accused him, he would say we did it together."
"So you took money."
"I took severance."
"Two hundred seventy thousand dollars?"
Her face flushed.
"Over five years. In exchange for a nondisclosure and consulting availability."
"That's hush money."
"Yes."
At least she did not hide from the word.
"Why are you talking now?"
"Because he stopped paying."
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because morality so often arrived after the checks stopped.
Natalie met my eyes.
"I know what you're thinking."
"You probably don't."
"That I'm here because it benefits me."
"It crossed my mind."
"It should."
She nodded.
"But I'm also here because I saw the custody filing."
My anger paused.
"What does that have to do with you?"
"Camden did something similar to me."
I stared at her.
"You're not his wife."
"No."
"He couldn't take your child."
"No."
She removed her glasses.
"But he could take my reputation."
Natalie had reported concerns internally.
Camden responded by documenting alleged performance problems that did not exist.
He collected old emails out of context.
He created a file showing her as unstable, difficult, and financially reckless.
By the time she resigned, three board members believed she had nearly caused the losses she discovered.
The pattern was identical.
When challenged, Camden did not just defend himself.
He rewrote the challenger.
"Why Belize?" Naomi asked.
Natalie looked surprised.
"You found that?"
"Yes."
She exhaled.
"Because I opened the account."
Every person in the room went still.
"You what?" I asked.
"Four years ago. At his direction."
"So it is yours?"
"It was a corporate contingency account originally."
"Then why are you still beneficiary?"
"I'm not supposed to be."
Peter had said there were two beneficiaries.
Camden.
Natalie.
"Did Camden know your name was still attached?"
"I don't know."
Naomi asked for documents.
Natalie had them.
Of course she did.
Women who have been threatened by paper learn to keep paper.
The Belize account had been created legitimately during an overseas resort acquisition that never closed.
It should have been dissolved.
Camden kept it open.
Natalie's name remained because removing her required a board resolution.
He never obtained one.
Which meant if he wired stolen money there, Natalie would receive automatic notice.
"That's why he's been paying you," I said.
She looked at me.
"Partly."
"You were his alarm system."
"His hostage."
Maybe both.
Then Natalie handed Mara a flash drive.
"This is why he really wants the old ledgers."
It contained email archives from Arthur's final year.
One message was from Arthur to Camden.
Subject: BENNETT.
My hands went cold.
Camden,
Rose kept one original ledger. She says it is insurance. If she dies, assume the girl has access.
Do not threaten Claire.
Do not involve her.
This ends with me.
I read those last three lines again.
Do not threaten Claire.
Do not involve her.
This ends with me.
Arthur—the man who had stolen, bribed, threatened, and hidden—had explicitly told his son to leave me alone.
Camden hadn't.
He had found me anyway.
Mara scrolled farther.
There was a reply.
From Camden.
Dad,
You created this problem. I will solve it my way.
I felt no tears.
Only clarity.
My marriage had not been a scheme every day for eight years.
That would have been easier.
The truth was more disturbing.
Camden had approached me with an ulterior motive.
Then he had fallen in love.
Then, whenever love and control came into conflict, he chose control.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Natalie cleared her throat.
"There is one more email."
I looked up.
"About me?"
"No."
"About who?"
She turned the laptop.
"About Lila."
The email was dated two days after our daughter was born.
Camden had written to an attorney while I was still in the hospital.
Subject: TRUST BENEFICIARY CHANGE.
I stared at the date.
While I sat beside our premature baby in intensive care, my husband had been making plans involving her inheritance.
The attached instruction was only one sentence.
Make Lila the sole residual beneficiary. Claire cannot know yet.
May you like
And beneath it was an authorization bearing my signature.
A signature I had never written.
