Chapter 5
Peter Lang never boarded the flight.
But nobody stopped him either.
He simply disappeared.
Marcus called twenty minutes later.
“His boarding pass was scanned at security, but airport cameras show him leaving through a service corridor.”
My father frowned.
“How?”
“We’re trying to determine that.”
“Was someone helping him?”
“Almost certainly.”
I lay in the hospital bed listening to every word.
The contractions had slowed.
The doctor believed they might be able to delay delivery.
That should have made me feel safe.
It didn’t.
Nothing felt safe anymore.
My father hung up.
“Peter is scared.”
“Of you?”
“Maybe.”
“Or Daniel?”
He looked at me.
“That possibility worries me more.”
Claire was gone.
Her attorney had arrived and escorted her downstairs to speak with police.
Daniel was still somewhere in the hospital.
Security had prevented him from entering my floor.
I hoped he was furious.
I wanted him to understand what it felt like to be powerless.
My phone vibrated again.
Unknown number.
I looked at my father.
“Should I answer?”
“Put it on speaker.”
I did.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a woman spoke.
“Emily?”
My heart tightened.
“Yes?”
“My name is Rachel Bennett.”
Daniel’s former girlfriend.
The mother of his six-year-old son.
My father immediately sat straighter.
“How did you get my number?”
“Daniel gave it to me years ago.”
I almost laughed at the irony.
He had blocked my father while giving my number to a woman he had hidden from me.
Rachel continued.
“I saw something online about ambulances outside your house.”
“Online?”
“Someone posted a video.”
Of course they had.
My father’s arrival with three black SUVs at a suburban house had probably attracted half the neighborhood.
Rachel’s voice shook.
“I need to talk to you.”
“About Daniel?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Is your son his?”
“Yes.”
The truth still hurt.
“How long have you known Daniel?”
“Almost nine years.”
That meant before me.
Before our marriage.
Before everything.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried once.”
I opened my eyes.
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
My father and I looked at each other.
“What happened?”
“I came to your house.”
My blood ran cold.
“I never saw you.”
“Daniel answered the door.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me you knew about Mason.”
“Mason?”
“My son.”
I pressed my hand against my stomach.
“What else?”
“He told me you didn’t want us anywhere near your family.”
“I never knew you existed.”
Rachel started crying softly.
“I know that now.”
“How?”
“Because Daniel started threatening me.”
My father leaned closer.
“What kind of threats?”
Rachel heard him.
“Who is that?”
“My father.”
Silence.
Then she whispered, “Richard Callahan?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God.”
My father frowned.
“Why?”
Rachel’s breathing became uneven.
“Because Daniel has Mason.”
I sat upright too quickly.
“What?”
“He picked him up from school this afternoon.”
“Isn’t he allowed?”
“No.”
My father stood.
“Where are you?”
“At the police station in Newton.”
“Have you filed a report?”
“Yes. But Daniel is listed as Mason’s father. The custody order allows visits.”
“What does the order say about travel?”
“He can’t take Mason out of Massachusetts without written permission.”
My father grabbed his coat.
“Do you know where Daniel is?”
“I thought he might be with Emily.”
“He was.”
I looked at the clock.
“When did he pick Mason up?”
“Three fifteen.”
Before I collapsed.
Before Daniel put the money on the table.
Before the suitcase.
My mind raced.
The third plane ticket.
Maybe it wasn’t originally meant for me.
“Rachel, does Mason have a passport?”
“Yes.”
“Who has it?”
“I do.”
She went silent.
Then she said, “I did.”
My father and I exchanged a look.
“What do you mean?”
“I checked thirty minutes ago. It’s gone.”
My father was already typing messages.
Rachel sobbed.
“I think Daniel took it last weekend.”
“Rachel,” I said. “Listen to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Where would Daniel take him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he have relatives?”
“His mother lives in Rhode Island.”
I knew Daniel’s mother.
Linda Mercer.
She had spent our entire marriage treating me as if I were a spoiled rich girl who had somehow trapped her precious son.
She had also complained constantly that I was “taking too long” to give her a grandchild.
All while knowing she already had one?
“Does Linda know about Mason?”
Rachel paused.
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
Daniel’s entire family had lied to me.
My father called Marcus.
“Daniel Mercer may have his six-year-old son, Mason Bennett. Alert police and airport security. Get me vehicle information.”
I interrupted.
“His car is at our house.”
My father nodded.
“He may have another.”
Rachel spoke through the phone.
“He does.”
“What?”
“A black Audi.”
I had never seen Daniel own an Audi.
Rachel gave the plate number.
Marcus repeated it.
Then disconnected.
I asked Rachel, “Did Daniel ever talk to you about Peter Lang?”
Silence.
My father noticed too.
“Rachel?”
“How do you know Peter?”
My pulse jumped.
“You know him?”
“Yes.”
My father leaned toward the phone.
“How?”
“Peter helped Daniel pay child support.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“The transfers came from an account controlled by Peter.”
My father’s face tightened.
“For how long?”
“About five years.”
The entire length of our marriage.
I whispered, “Why would Peter pay Daniel’s child support?”
“I don’t know.”
My father did.
I saw it in his face.
“What?”
He hesitated.
“Dad.”
“Because Peter may have been funding Daniel.”
“Funding him for what?”
My father stared at me.
“To get close to you.”
The sentence hurt more than I expected.
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Emily.”
“No. Daniel met me by accident.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
“At the museum fundraiser?”
I remembered.
A crowded event.
A spilled glass of champagne.
Daniel joking that ruining my dress was his best pickup line.
He had seemed charming.
Embarrassed.
Ordinary.
My father asked, “Who invited him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Exactly.”
I looked away.
Maybe even our beginning had been staged.
My father lowered his voice.
“If Peter wanted access to the family trust, getting someone close to you would have given him a path.”
“Daniel married me for money.”
“It increasingly appears that way.”
My throat tightened.
“And the baby?”
My father didn’t answer.
I didn’t want him to.
My phone rang again.
This time it was Daniel.
I stared at the name.
Rachel heard the ringtone.
“Is that him?”
“Yes.”
My father held out his hand.
“Let it ring.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“He has a child with him.”
I answered.
“Where is Mason?”
Silence.
Then Daniel laughed softly.
“So Rachel called you.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s fine.”
“Put him on the phone.”
“No.”
My father moved closer.
Daniel continued.
“You’ve turned this into a circus.”
“You took a six-year-old boy from his mother.”
“He’s my son.”
“You barely mentioned you had a son.”
“That’s between Rachel and me.”
“Where are you?”
“Does your father hear this?”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
My father spoke.
“Daniel, return the child.”
“Stay out of this.”
“You’re making your situation significantly worse.”
“My situation?”
Daniel laughed.
“You still think you’re controlling the board, Richard.”
My father went still.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel ignored him.
“Emily, I need you to tell your father to stop looking for Peter.”
“Why?”
“Because Peter has something that belongs to me.”
“What?”
Silence.
Then Daniel said, “Your mother’s journal.”
My father’s face drained of color.
I stared at him.
“My mother kept a journal?”
Daniel chuckled.
“Oh, he never told you?”
“Where did Peter get it?”
“Ask your father.”
I looked at him.
“Dad?”
My father’s jaw tightened.
Daniel continued.
“Interesting how many family secrets he forgot to mention.”
“Where is Mason?”
“I told you. Safe.”
“If you hurt him—”
“I would never hurt my son.”
“You abandoned your pregnant wife on the kitchen floor.”
He went silent.
Then his voice became colder.
“You threw your ring away.”
“Yes.”
“You embarrassed me.”
I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“You’re worried about embarrassment?”
“You had one job, Emily.”
My blood chilled.
“What job?”
“Sign the documents and stop asking questions.”
My father reached toward the phone, but I held it away.
“No.”
I needed to hear Daniel.
All of him.
“The documents would have protected you,” he said.
“By giving Claire eighty-four million dollars?”
“You don’t understand how the trust works.”
“Apparently neither did you.”
His breathing changed.
I had hit something.
Then he said quietly, “Your father doesn’t own everything he claims he owns.”
My father’s expression hardened.
“Explain.”
Daniel laughed.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“You are now.”
Another pause.
Then Daniel said, “Peter has proof that half of Callahan Holdings was built with stolen money.”
I looked at my father.
He said nothing.
“Stolen from whom?” I asked.
“Your mother’s family.”
My stomach dropped.
My mother had come from money too.
The Delaney family.
Old New England manufacturing wealth.
Much of it had disappeared after my grandfather died.
“Daniel—”
“Peter knows everything.”
“Then why is he running?”
“Because your father wants to bury him.”
My father spoke calmly.
“If I wanted Peter buried, he would have been prosecuted years ago.”
Daniel laughed.
“You should ask him why he wasn’t.”
Then a child’s voice came faintly through the phone.
“Dad?”
Mason.
Rachel gasped from my other phone.
“Mason!”
Daniel immediately moved away from him.
I shouted, “Put him on!”
“No.”
Rachel was crying.
“Daniel! Please!”
For a moment, I heard traffic.
A horn.
Then an airport announcement.
My father’s eyes widened.
He whispered, “He’s at Logan.”
I shouted into the phone.
“Daniel, don’t take that child anywhere.”
He became quiet.
Then he said, “Tell your father to bring the blue folder.”
My father looked at me.
“What?”
“The transfer documents,” Daniel said. “Signed.”
“No.”
“Then Rachel may have a difficult time getting Mason back.”
Rachel screamed his name.
I felt sick.
“You’re using your own son as leverage?”
“I’m protecting my family.”
“Which family?”
That stopped him.
Then he said something that made my blood freeze.
“The one I should have chosen from the beginning.”
The call ended.
My father was already moving.
“Marcus.”
He didn’t need to explain.
Hospital security entered at the same time.
“Mr. Callahan, police are asking for you downstairs.”
My father looked at me.
I knew he didn’t want to leave.
“Go.”
“Emily.”
“Get Mason.”
He kissed my forehead.
“I’ll be back.”
He rushed out.
Rachel remained on the phone with me.
Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.
Then she whispered, “I hate him.”
I understood.
“I loved him.”
Her voice cracked.
“So did I.”
The words connected us in a way I never wanted.
Then the monitor beside my bed began beeping faster.
A nurse rushed in.
“Emily?”
I grabbed my stomach.
The contraction that hit me was stronger than all the others.
Much stronger.
I gasped.
Something felt wrong.
The nurse looked at the monitor.
Her expression changed.
She pressed a button.
“Call the doctor.”
“What’s happening?”
“Emily, turn onto your left side.”
“Is the baby okay?”
“Turn now.”
I tried.
Another alarm sounded.
Two more nurses entered.
My doctor rushed through the door.
She looked at the monitor.
Then at me.
“Emily, your baby’s heart rate is dropping.”
My entire body went cold.
“What?”
“We need to move quickly.”
“No. No, please.”
“We’re going to the operating room.”
I grabbed the nurse’s hand.
“My father isn’t here.”
“We don’t have time.”
The bed began moving.
I looked toward the empty doorway.
My father was racing to save Daniel’s first child.
And I was being rushed into surgery to save his second.
May you like
As the ceiling lights flew above me, I heard the doctor say the words I had feared all night.
“Prepare for emergency delivery.”
