She smiled.
Then kissed me.
It was the last completely peaceful conversation we had about her work.
During the next week, Claire became increasingly distracted.
She spent hours reviewing records.
Made phone calls from the garden.
And twice asked me whether our home security system automatically backed up recordings from the side entrance.
I told her it did, subject to the recording settings and the retention period.
She nodded.
I asked why she wanted to know.
She said she was checking something for the foundation's records.
I remember joking that our security cameras were becoming more important than our family photographs.
She didn't laugh.
Now, sitting in Angela's house two years later, I remembered that conversation with a terrible clarity.
Claire had been collecting evidence.
And she'd been frightened enough to ask how it might be preserved.
The official account of her death was simple.
On November 17, I was attending a business conference in Boston.
The children were home.
Vanessa had come to our house that evening, supposedly to discuss foundation documents with Claire.
At approximately nine, Vanessa called emergency services to report that Claire had fallen down the rear staircase.
Claire was found unconscious at the bottom of the stairs.
Emergency personnel arrived and took her to the hospital.
Her injuries were severe.
She died early the following morning.
The initial investigation did not establish criminal involvement.
Vanessa told investigators that she and Claire had finished discussing work and that Claire had gone upstairs.
She said she heard a loud crash several minutes later, rushed to the staircase, and found her friend on the floor.
Ethan was in the house but had reportedly been in his bedroom.
Nia was asleep.
The staircase camera had been disconnected during recent renovation work.
There were no clear eyewitness accounts establishing what caused the fall.
After reviewing the available information, authorities treated the death as accidental.
I accepted it.
Not because the circumstances were easy to understand.
Because I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to hurt Claire.
She was the kind of woman who remembered people's birthdays.
Who stopped to help elderly neighbors carry groceries.
Who believed that money meant very little unless it could be used for something worthwhile.
I knew she could be demanding at work.
I knew she sometimes challenged people.
But murder?