Chapter 4: The Man Who Knew My Signature
The photograph on my phone was taken inside a moving car.
Grace lay across the back seat, her head tilted against the window, her white dress stained with blood. One of her hands rested against her stomach.
Our baby.
Someone had photographed my wife while she was unconscious, knowing exactly what that image would do to me.
Beneath the photograph was a message.
*You have until midnight to surrender the original.*
I stared at the screen until the letters blurred.
Then another message appeared.
*Bring it alone. If you contact the police, the next photograph will be different.*
“Marcus?””
Grace's voice pulled me back into the hospital room.
I locked my phone and turned toward her.
“It's nothing you need to worry about.””
She looked at me for a long moment.
“You're a terrible liar.””
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
“Six years of marriage, and you still haven't learned to pretend otherwise?””
“I learned a long time ago.”” Her eyes dropped to my phone.
“You're trying to protect me by keeping things from me. That's how this started, isn't it?””
The question struck deeper than I expected.
I sat beside her bed and showed her the messages.
Her face drained of color.
“Oh, God.””
“Do you recognize the car?””
She enlarged the photograph with trembling fingers.
“No. But look at the window.””
A reflection appeared in the glass behind her head. It was faint, distorted by the angle, but I could make out a man's wrist and the face of a silver watch.
Grace stared at it.
“That's Daniel's watch.””
I leaned closer.
“You're certain?””
“He wore it to our anniversary dinner. I remember because I spilled wine on his sleeve, and he spent twenty minutes complaining about the watch being worth more than my first car.””
I studied the reflection.
A silver watch with a black leather strap.
It could have belonged to Daniel.
It could also have belonged to hundreds of other men.
But the photograph had been sent by someone who knew where Grace was, what had happened to her, and how to frighten me into surrendering a document.
That narrowed the possibilities considerably.
I forwarded the messages to Detective Reynolds.
He called almost immediately.
“Marcus, do not respond to the sender.””
“I wasn't planning to.””
“And don't go anywhere without telling us.””
“They want the original trust agreement.””
“Do you have it?””
“No. I don't even know where it is.””
“Then we have a problem. Someone believes you have something valuable enough to threaten your family over.””
“Someone knows my signature was forged. Someone submitted a fraudulent death certificate. And someone is sending me pictures of my wife while she was unconscious. How many more problems do you need before you arrest somebody?””
“I need to catch the person responsible, not simply the person who frightens you most.””
I looked at Grace.
“Then start with my mother.””
“We're interviewing her again.””
“Interviewing? She arranged a funeral for a woman who was still alive!””
“Mr. Hale, I understand your anger, but I need you to let us work.””
I ended the call before I said something I would regret.
Grace watched me put the phone down.
“Marcus, the original document might be in your grandfather's study.””
I frowned.
“Why would it be there?””
“Because Daniel said your grandfather kept everything important in a locked cabinet. He mentioned it when he was showing me the papers.””
My grandfather's study was located at the far end of the mansion, behind a pair of walnut doors. After his death, my mother had insisted that we leave the room untouched until the estate was settled.
I had respected her wishes.
Now I wondered what she had been protecting.
“I'll have the police search the study,” I said.
Grace shook her head.
“There's something else.””
“What?””
“When your mother was talking to Daniel, she said the original had to be found before the hospital confirmed the baby's heartbeat.””
My chest tightened.
“Why would that matter?””
“I don't know. But she sounded frightened when she said it.””
I remembered the moment the doctor had told me our baby was alive.
The relief had been overwhelming.
But if the trust contained a condition tied to the child's existence, then the confirmation of a heartbeat might have legal significance.
I called Whitmore again.
This time, I didn't bother with pleasantries.
“I need the original trust agreement.””
“Marcus, I told you that I cannot discuss the document without reviewing the relevant files.””
“My wife was nearly killed because of it.””
“I am aware.””
“Then stop speaking to me like I'm asking about a tax return.””
Silence.
Finally, he sighed.
“Your grandfather deposited the original agreement in a private vault. Access required two keys. One remained with me. The other was assigned to the family trustee.””
“Who is the family trustee?””
“Your mother.””
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“Where is the vault?””
“I cannot disclose the location over the telephone.””
“Edward, I am running out of patience.””
“And I am running out of ways to keep you alive.””
The words stopped me cold.
“What did you say?””
Whitmore lowered his voice.
“Your grandfather left me instructions concerning the trust. If the documents were ever compromised, I was to contact you privately. I attempted to do so three days ago.””
“Why didn't you reach me?””
“Your office told me you were overseas. When I asked to speak with your wife, I was informed that she was unavailable.””
“Who told you that?””
“Your mother's assistant.””
I felt the pieces shifting.
Someone had been controlling the information reaching us. My calls, Grace's calls, the legal notices, even the timing of the funeral.
They had built a wall around our lives while we were too busy trusting them to notice.
“Meet me at the hospital,” I said.
“No.””
“Then tell me where to find the original.””
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because I no longer have the key.””
I stared at the wall.
“Who has it?””
A long pause followed.
Then Whitmore answered.
“Daniel.””
The call ended.
For several seconds, I stood motionless.
My brother had the key to the vault containing the document everyone seemed willing to kill for.
And he had disappeared.
I returned to Grace's bedside.
She was watching the door.
“What happened?””
“Daniel has the key.””
She closed her eyes.
“Then we have to find him before your mother does.””
“Why would she need to find him? They're working together.””
“Are they?””
I paused.
Grace looked at me.
“When I was in the library, Daniel and your mother were arguing. She kept telling him to wait. He said he couldn't wait anymore because someone was threatening to expose him.””
“Expose him for what?””
“I don't know. But your mother said, ‘If Edward finds out what you did before the transfer, none of this will matter.’”
A chill crawled up my spine.
“What did Daniel say?””
Grace swallowed.
“He said, ‘You promised you would take care of it.’”
I sat slowly.
Perhaps my mother had helped Daniel.
Perhaps she had believed she could control him.
But the words suggested something more complicated.
A secret between them. A betrayal neither was willing to admit.
My phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered without speaking.
A man's voice came through, breathless and low.
“Marcus?””
“Who is this?””
“It's Daniel.””
I stood so abruptly that Grace gasped.
“Where are you?””
“Listen to me. I don't have much time.””
“You have a lot of explaining to do.””
“I know.””
“You tried to kill my wife.””
“I didn't know she was going to be put in the coffin!””
The words burst out of him.
I felt my stomach twist.
“You expect me to believe that?””
“I swear to you, Marcus, the plan was to make her disappear until the transfer was completed. Mother said she would be taken somewhere safe.””
“Safe? You ran her off the road!””
Daniel began breathing heavily.
“She was supposed to stop driving. I didn't mean for her to hit the barrier.””
“You followed her in your car!””
“I panicked!””
“You put our child in danger!””
“I know!””
His voice cracked.
For the first time in my life, I heard my younger brother sound genuinely broken.
It didn't make me forgive him.
It made me more afraid of what he might do next.
“Where are you?”” I demanded.
“I can't tell you. They're watching me.””
“Who?””
“Mother. Whitmore. Someone else.””
I went still.
“Someone else?””
Daniel lowered his voice.
“The man who ordered all of this. The man Mother answers to.””
“Who is he?””
“I don't know his real name. But I found something in the vault. Something that proves Mother wasn't acting alone.””
“Then give it to the police.””
“I can't. If I do, he'll know.””
“Daniel, you don't get to decide what happens anymore.””
“I know. But you need to listen. The original trust agreement isn't what you think it is.
Grandfather added a handwritten amendment. It's hidden inside the cover.””
My heart began pounding.
“What does it say?””
“I don't know. Mother has never seen it. But Whitmore knows.””
“Where are you?””
Daniel hesitated.
Then he whispered, “The old boathouse. On the north side of the estate.””
I glanced at Grace.
She shook her head violently.
“Don't go,” she mouthed.
I turned away.
“I'm coming.””
“No. Come alone. And bring the hospital report confirming the baby's heartbeat.””
My blood ran cold.
“Why do you need that?””
“Because if you want to save your child, you need to understand what Grandfather actually wrote.””
The call crackled.
“Daniel?””
His voice returned, barely audible.
“Marcus, there's something Mother never told you about your birth.””
Then the line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
May you like
Behind me, Grace began to cry.
And for the first time, I wondered whether the man I had spent my entire life calling my brother was even telling the truth about who we were.
