Rachel tried calling Evan again.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
By the fourth attempt, her injured body was shaking hard enough that Daniel took the phone from her.
“We move now.”
Marcus was already at the archive control panel.
“Open the gate.”
Mom entered her verification phrase.
The lock released.
Thomas stepped toward the exit.
Dad blocked him.
“You’re coming with us.”
Thomas stared.
“You still think you can order me?”
“No.”
Dad pointed the pistol toward him.
“I think this can.”
Marcus laughed without humor.
“Robert is finally simplifying his management style.”
Dad ignored him.
Rachel could barely walk.
Daniel and Mercer supported her between them.
Mercer’s wrists remained tied until Mom finally cut the restraints.
Dad objected.
Mom said, “He’s carrying his wounded daughter. If he runs, let him.”
Mercer looked at her.
“I’m not running.”
We emerged into Bellweather’s basement corridors.
Marcus led us toward a maintenance exit.
Valeria stayed beside him.
“Where are Noah and Evan?”
“Cape Elizabeth.”
“Maine?”
“Yes.”
“How far?”
“Too far by road if whoever found them is already inside.”
“Then how?”
“There’s an airfield thirty minutes from here.”
Dad frowned.
“You have a plane?”
Marcus looked at him.
“I have several things you thought belonged to you.”
Dad almost responded, then stopped himself.
Maybe he was finally learning that every argument about control wasted time.
Outside, the morning had brightened.
Three vehicles waited beyond the fence.
Marcus looked toward the nearest SUV.
His guard—the man who had shot Rachel—followed.
Thomas stopped.
“He stays here.”
Marcus turned.
“He follows my orders.”
“He shot Rachel.”
“Because she was about to compromise the boys.”
Rachel looked at Marcus.
“You told him to stop me. Not shoot me.”
Marcus’s expression revealed nothing.
The guard said, “She reached for a weapon.”
Rachel stared.
“I didn’t have one.”
Marcus looked at him.
The guard’s face changed.
That was enough.
Marcus drew his pistol and shot him once in the leg.
The man collapsed.
Valeria flinched.
Marcus crouched beside him.
“Who gave you the actual order?”
The guard clenched his teeth.
“Go to hell.”
Marcus pressed the pistol against his other knee.
Thomas said, “Marcus.”
“Stay out of it.”
Dad watched silently.
I hated how quickly violence had become ordinary.
Marcus repeated the question.
“Who ordered Rachel killed?”
The guard laughed through the pain.
“You still think you’re in charge.”
Marcus’s expression changed.
“Who?”
The man looked at Thomas.
Then at Marcus.
“Arthur.”
No one moved.
Mom whispered, “My father is alive.”
The guard smiled.
“Ask him yourself.”
“Where is he?”
“Waiting for the children.”
Valeria crossed the distance and grabbed his coat.
“Where?”
He laughed.
She shoved the revolver beneath his chin.
Dad stepped forward.
“Valeria.”
“Not now.”
Her voice was steady.
“Where is my son?”
The guard looked into her eyes.
Something in his amusement faded.
“Cape Elizabeth.”
“Where exactly?”
“Old lighthouse keeper’s house.”
Marcus swore.
Rachel whispered, “That’s where they are.”
Valeria released him.
Marcus looked at the guard.
“You betrayed me.”
“You were never in charge.”
That sentence seemed to affect Marcus more than the betrayal.
Thomas laughed.
“Welcome to the family.”
Marcus stood.
“We leave him.”
Daniel said, “He’ll bleed out.”
Marcus shrugged.
I stared at him.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“No?”
“We’re not leaving him to die.”
“He tried to kill Rachel.”
“And?”
“And I don’t care whether he lives.”
“I do.”
Marcus studied me.
Perhaps he expected me to back down.
I didn’t.
Finally Daniel tore open another field dressing and wrapped the man’s leg.
“We call emergency services anonymously once we’re away.”
Marcus looked annoyed.
Mom looked at me.
For the first time that morning, something almost warm entered her expression.
We divided between two vehicles.
Marcus drove the first with Valeria, Mom, Dad, and me.
Daniel drove Rachel, Mercer, and Thomas.
Nobody trusted the arrangement.
That may have been why it worked.
As we drove toward the airfield, Valeria kept trying Rachel’s phone.
No answer.
“Who is Noah’s father?”
Marcus stared through the windshield.
She repeated the question.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“You knew I was pregnant.”
“After Thomas told me.”
“When?”
“After you were moved from Tennessee.”
“Did you know they kept me sedated?”
“Yes.”
“Did you order it?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“Arthur.”
Mom whispered, “Dad.”
Marcus nodded.
Valeria looked toward him.
“You’re saying my grandfather was alive, knew I was imprisoned, and took control of my medical care.”
“Yes.”
Dad’s hands tightened.
“I received instructions from a physician named Bell.”
Marcus glanced at him.
“Arthur.”
Dad stared.
“What?”
“Dr. Bell was one of his identities.”
Dad looked physically ill.
“I spoke to him.”
“Yes.”
“On the phone.”
“Voice modulation.”
Dad leaned back.
“All those years.”
Marcus continued driving.
“Arthur wanted you to believe Valeria was unstable enough to require sedation.”
“And you knew?”
“Eventually.”
“You said nothing.”
“I was trying to locate Arthur.”
Valeria said, “Everyone has a reason.”
Marcus glanced at her.
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t make any of you innocent.”
“No.”
That answer sounded sincere.
She returned to the question.
“My son’s father.”
Marcus exhaled.
“The medical records list no father.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not if the pregnancy didn’t happen naturally.”
Silence filled the SUV.
Valeria stared at him.
“What?”
Mom whispered, “No.”
Marcus continued.
“Arthur had access to reproductive clinics through shell companies.”
Valeria’s voice dropped.
“You’re telling me I was impregnated while imprisoned.”
“I’m telling you that possibility exists.”
Dad lunged from the passenger seat.
I grabbed his shoulder as Marcus swerved.
“You knew!”
“I found the records two years later!”
Dad hit him anyway.
The SUV crossed the center line.
Mom shouted.
Marcus corrected the wheel and slammed the brakes on the shoulder.
He turned toward Dad.
“Hit me again and we all die before reaching the boys.”
Dad’s breathing was ragged.
“You let this happen to her.”
Marcus’s voice became cold.
“You locked her up.”
That ended it.
Dad sat back.
Valeria looked through the window.
No tears.
That frightened me more.
Mom reached for her.
Valeria allowed their hands to touch.
“Do you remember anything?” Mom asked.
“No.”
“Maybe that’s mercy.”
Valeria looked at her.
“No more mercy made from lies.”
Mom nodded.
Marcus started driving again.
The airfield appeared beyond a line of hangars.
A small jet waited near the runway.
Thomas laughed when he saw it.
“Arthur’s?”
Marcus answered, “Mine.”
Thomas smiled.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
During the flight, Daniel treated Rachel more thoroughly.
The wound remained serious, but stable.
Mercer sat beside her.
He kept touching her hand as though confirming she existed.
Thomas sat alone across the aisle.
Mom took the seat opposite him.
“Why did Dad fake his death?”
Thomas looked out the window.
“To escape me.”
“That simple?”
“No.”
He turned.
“Federal investigators were getting close. Robert had begun expanding operations without understanding their origin. Arthur decided dying solved several problems.”
Dad heard.
“He handed me the companies.”
“He handed you bait.”
Dad looked away.
Mom asked, “Why stay hidden after?”
Thomas smiled bitterly.
“Because he became addicted to watching us.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“He contacted me.”
“When?”
“Every year.”
Mom stared.
“What did he want?”
“To know whether I had learned humility.”
“And had you?”
“No.”
For the first time, Thomas sounded almost proud of the answer.
Valeria looked at him.
“Did Grandpa tell you about Noah?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before he was born.”
“Why?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Because the child matters to succession.”
Valeria’s face hardened.
“He is three.”
“Arthur never cared about age.”
“What does Noah have to do with the archive?”
Thomas looked toward Marcus.
Marcus answered.
“Nothing yet.”
“Yet?”
“The trusts were designed around bloodlines.”
Mom said, “I thought control passed from me to Valeria.”
“It did. But after Valeria, it passes to her biological child.”
Valeria stared.
“So someone needs Noah to control the network if they remove us.”
“Yes.”
Dad whispered, “Jesus.”
Valeria looked at Thomas.
“And Evan?”
Thomas remained silent.
Daniel looked up from Rachel’s bandage.
“Why would Arthur need Evan?”
Rachel answered.
“Because Evan is another bloodline.”
Daniel stared.
“Mine?”
“No.”
She looked toward Thomas.
“Arthur’s.”
Daniel went still.
“What?”
Rachel began crying again.
“Arthur arranged Evan’s conception too.”
Daniel stood.
“No.”
“You are his father genetically.”
“Then how is he Arthur’s bloodline?”
Rachel swallowed.
“Your mother.”
Daniel’s expression emptied.
“My mother?”
Thomas looked at him with sudden recognition.
“Ruth.”
Daniel stared.
“You knew her?”
Thomas laughed softly.
“Everyone knew Ruth.”
Daniel’s hands clenched.
“Explain.”
Thomas leaned back.
“Ruth Rusk wasn’t your biological mother.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“Enough.”
“She raised you, yes.”
“Stop.”
“Arthur was your father.”
The cabin went silent.
Daniel stared at Mom.
Then at Thomas.
“No.”
Thomas smiled sadly.
“You’re our half brother.”
Mom covered her mouth.
Daniel looked as though he might be sick.
Rachel whispered, “That’s why Arthur trusted you.”
Daniel stepped backward.
“All these years.”
Thomas said, “Another child Father hid.”
Daniel sat heavily.
I looked around the cabin.
Every relationship had become a trapdoor.
Mom whispered, “Then Evan is Dad’s grandson through Daniel.”
Rachel nodded.
“And Noah through Valeria.”
“Yes.”
Valeria understood.
“Two successor lines.”
Marcus nodded.
“If Arthur controls both boys, he can determine which branch inherits after you.”
Valeria stood.
“No one inherits.”
Marcus looked at her.
She pointed toward Mom.
“When we get Noah and Evan, she presses the button.”
Thomas said, “You have no idea what dissolution will do.”
Valeria turned.
“It will end this.”
“It may bankrupt companies employing thousands.”
“Then we separate legitimate businesses first.”
“In seventy-two hours?”
“We have less now.”
Thomas shook his head.
“You sound like Arthur.”
Valeria’s expression hardened.
“No.”
She looked around the cabin.
“I sound like someone who is tired of children being used to preserve what adults refuse to surrender.”
No one answered.
The plane began descending.
Rachel’s phone suddenly received a message.
One photograph.
She opened it.
Evan and Noah sat side by side on the floor of the lighthouse keeper’s house.
Both alive.
Behind them stood an elderly man.
White hair.
Thin face.
Clear eyes.
My mother reached for the phone.
Her fingers trembled.
“Dad.”
Arthur Vale looked directly into the camera.
Beneath the photograph was a message.
BRING BOTH CUSTODIANS. NO POLICE. THE FAMILY DESERVES ONE FINAL CONVERSATION.
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: We Found My Supposedly Dead Grandfather Waiting With Valeria’s Son, and His Explanation Made Our Father’s Worst Crime Look Carefully Engineered
The Woman on the Evening News Had My Dead Sister’s Face, and My Mother Recognized Her Before I Did
Part 11 of 27
