Chapter 11: The Price of Silence
I called Olivia immediately.
She answered on the first ring.
"Daniel?""
"Where is your mother?""
"I don't know. Alexander sent the photograph twenty minutes ago.""
"Have you contacted the police?""
"He said he'd hurt her if I did.""
I looked at Michael.
He was already speaking to an investigator.
"Olivia, listen carefully. Don't go anywhere. Don't meet Alexander. Let the authorities handle this.""
"I can't just wait!""
"Your mother needs you alive and thinking clearly. Do you understand?""
She began crying.
"Daniel, this is my fault.""
I closed my eyes.
For the first time, I believed she understood the consequences of what she'd done.
But that didn't erase anything.
"Where was the photograph taken?""
"I don't know. But I recognize the wall. It's the old Whitmore research facility.""
Michael looked up.
"Which facility?""
"The one near the harbor. They closed it after the accident.""
The investigator overheard her answer.
He immediately requested the address.
Within minutes, officers were being dispatched.
Michael turned to me.
"We need to provide them with the memory card and everything we know about the threats.""
I nodded.
Then my phone rang.
Alexander.
I answered.
"Daniel Carter.""
His voice was cheerful.
"Finally. I've been trying to reach you.""
"Where is Patricia?""
"Safe. For now.""
"What do you want?""
"The original cooling design.""
"You already have the copied research.""
"I don't want copies. I want the original.""
I looked at Michael.
He gestured for me to keep him talking.
"Why?""
Alexander laughed.
"Because without that design, your licensing deal is worthless. And without the safety mechanism, our acquisition becomes much more complicated.""
I understood.
He didn't simply want to steal the invention.
He wanted to eliminate the evidence that proved his company had knowingly removed its safety features.
"You're afraid of the original design," I said.
"Don't flatter yourself.""
"Then why kidnap an innocent woman?""
His voice changed.
"Because people like you don't understand when to stop.""
I remained calm.
"Alexander, you have no idea what you're dealing with.""
He laughed.
"Actually, I know exactly what I'm dealing with. A former mechanic who sold his father's business because his girlfriend needed tuition.""
My jaw tightened.
"You're right. I did.""
"And now you think you're some billionaire because a patent lawyer told you a number?""
"No. I think I'm the son of a man who built something worth protecting.""
Silence.
Then Alexander spoke.
"Bring the original design to the old research facility at eight tonight. Come alone.""
"And Patricia?""
"She walks out when I have the notebook.""
The call ended.
Michael immediately turned toward the investigator.
"That's enough to establish a direct threat. We need to coordinate the response.""
I placed my father's notebook on the desk.
"Can we make a copy?""
"Already done.""
Michael looked at me.
"Daniel, you're not handing over the original.""
"I know.""
We spent the afternoon working with the investigators.
The memory card from Frank contained a recording of Richard speaking to Robert on the night of the fire.
The audio was damaged, but several sentences were clear.
"Make sure the papers are gone.""
Then Robert's voice:
"And Arthur?""
Richard answered:
"He'll understand when it's too late.""
The investigators immediately sent the recording for forensic enhancement.
At 6:30 p.m., Olivia arrived at Michael's office.
She was carrying a small black handbag.
"I brought something.""
She removed a USB drive.
"What is it?"" I asked.
"My father's original laboratory recordings. I found them in his storage unit.""
Michael connected it to a secure computer.
There were several audio files.
One was dated two days before my father's death.
We pressed play.
Thomas Parker's voice filled the room.
"Arthur, Richard has made another offer. He wants the entire patent portfolio and the final safety design.""
My father's voice answered.
"He can have it when hell freezes over.""
Thomas laughed briefly.
Then his voice became serious.
"There's something else. Robert has been asking questions about the garage. I think he's working with Richard.""
My father's voice lowered.
"I know. He came to see me yesterday.""
"Arthur, be careful.""
"I've already moved the final design.""
"Where?""
A pause.
Then my father answered.
"Somewhere Richard will never think to look.""
The recording ended.
I looked at Olivia.
"Did your father ever tell you where my father hid it?""
She shook her head.
"No.""
Michael opened the next audio file.
This one was dated three days after the fire.
Thomas sounded exhausted.
"Richard, Arthur is dead. You got what you wanted. Now leave Daniel alone.""
Richard's voice came through clearly.
"That depends on whether the boy has inherited anything useful.""
Thomas answered angrily.
"He's seventeen.""
"Then he'll be easy to manage.""
The recording stopped.
Nobody spoke.
Then Olivia whispered:
"He was talking about you.""
I looked at her.
"Yes.""
Michael closed the laptop.
"We have enough evidence to pursue serious charges, but we still need Patricia safely recovered.""
At 7:42 p.m., the investigator received an update.
Patricia had been located inside the abandoned Whitmore facility.
Officers were moving into position.
I was told to stay away.
For the next twenty minutes, I sat in Michael's office with my hands clasped together.
At 8:06 p.m., his phone rang.
He answered.
"Yes?""
His expression changed.
"What do you mean she's gone?""
I stood.
"What happened?""
Michael ended the call.
"The facility is empty. Patricia isn't there.""
Olivia began sobbing.
"Where is my mother?""
The investigator called again.
This time Michael put it on speaker.
"We found the chair from the photograph. There are signs someone left in a hurry.""
"Any evidence of where they went?"" Michael asked.
A pause.
"Yes. We found a vehicle registration document.""
"What vehicle?""
"A black SUV registered to Robert Carter.""
My stomach dropped.
Then the investigator added:
"There's something else. We found a handwritten note addressed to Daniel.""
Michael looked at me.
"Read it.""
The investigator unfolded the paper.
"Daniel, your father didn't hide the final design in the garage. He hid it where you would find it only after he was gone.""
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
It wasn't my father's.
It belonged to Robert.
Beneath the message was an address.
My childhood home.
The house my father had sold shortly before his death.
May you like
And one final sentence:
*Come alone, or Patricia disappears forever.*
