Chapter 6
Detective Bennett read the message twice.
Then she looked at Charles.
“What old Carter house?”
Charles had gone gray.
“No.”
“What house?”
“No.”
Ryan grabbed his father’s arm.
“Dad.”
Charles pulled away.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
Charles stared at the photograph of my mother.
“It’s where my father died.”
My chest tightened.
“Your father died at home?”
“Officially.”
That word again.
Officially.
Nothing about the Carter family seemed to have only one truth.
Detective Bennett spoke sharply.
“Address.”
Charles gave it to her.
An old property outside Dallas near Cedar Hill.
Twenty acres.
Abandoned for years.
Bennett immediately called dispatch.
“Send tactical units. Quiet approach. Possible hostage situation.”
I tried to get out of the wheelchair.
A nurse stopped me.
“Emily.”
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“My mother is there.”
“You just had emergency surgery.”
“I don’t care.”
“You could hemorrhage.”
I looked at Bennett.
“Take me.”
“No.”
“Jessica wants Charles.”
“She specifically told you to bring him alone. That means she expects you to come.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s why you’re staying here.”
My hands shook.
“Then she’ll know.”
“We’ll handle it.”
Ryan stepped forward.
“I’ll take Dad.”
“No,” Bennett said.
“Why?”
“Because you are emotionally involved, and we don’t know how many people are there.”
Charles spoke quietly.
“I should go.”
Ryan stared at him.
“Dad.”
“She asked for me.”
“She nearly killed Emily.”
“That’s exactly why I should go.”
I watched Charles.
He wasn’t acting brave.
He looked terrified.
Not of Jessica.
Of the house.
“What happened there?”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“The night your father died.”
Charles said nothing.
“You keep hiding things until someone gets hurt.”
I pointed toward Sophie’s NICU room.
“My daughter was born early because of your family’s secrets.”
Charles flinched.
“My mother is tied to a chair because of your secrets.”
“I know.”
“Then talk.”
Ryan looked at him too.
“Tell us.”
Charles slowly sat down.
“My father died eleven years ago.”
“I remember,” Ryan said. “You told me he had a stroke.”
“He didn’t.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
Charles stared at his hands.
“My father was shot.”
Silence.
“By who?” Bennett asked.
“I don’t know.”
I nearly screamed.
Bennett’s voice hardened.
“You were there.”
Charles looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“You just said the house is where he died, and your reaction tells me you saw something.”
Charles closed his eyes.
“I arrived after the gunshot.”
“Who else was there?”
“My father.”
“Dead?”
“Dying.”
“Who else?”
“Thomas Monroe.”
Jessica’s father.
My skin prickled.
“And?”
Charles’s mouth tightened.
“Michael Warren.”
My father.
I stopped breathing.
“That was eleven years ago.”
Charles nodded.
“My father died eleven years ago.”
“My father died thirteen years ago.”
“No.”
My voice became a whisper.
“No.”
Charles looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you saying?”
“Michael didn’t die when you were nineteen.”
The room vanished.
I stared at him.
“You’re lying.”
“Your mother told you he died.”
“There was a funeral.”
“I know.”
“I saw a coffin.”
“I know.”
“You came here to tell me my father faked his death?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Charles struggled to speak.
“The man buried under your father’s name was not Michael.”
My ears started ringing.
Ryan moved closer to me.
I pushed him away.
“Don’t.”
I looked at Charles.
“Who was in the coffin?”
“A man named Peter Cole.”
“Who?”
“He worked for my father.”
“Why?”
“To make Michael disappear.”
“Why would my mother agree?”
“Because Michael believed your life was in danger.”
I stared at him.
“My life?”
“He had the ledgers.”
“The evidence.”
“Yes.”
“He was going to testify.”
“Yes.”
“Against your father.”
“And others.”
“Who?”
“Politicians. Developers. Judges. People my father paid.”
I felt sick.
“So they threatened us.”
“Yes.”
“And my dad faked his death.”
“With help.”
“From my mother?”
“Yes.”
I couldn’t understand how Mom had looked at me at nineteen and told me my father was dead.
How she held me while I cried.
How she let me visit a grave for thirteen years.
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Stop.”
“I truly don’t.”
“You just said he was at the Carter house two years later.”
“Yes.”
“So you saw him.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He confronted my father.”
“Why?”
“Because my father found Susan.”
My mother.
“What did he do?”
“Threatened her.”
I clenched my fists.
“Keep talking.”
“Michael returned to Texas. Thomas Monroe arranged the meeting.”
“Jessica’s father.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Thomas had been investigating my father for me.”
“You hired him?”
“Yes.”
“So Thomas wasn’t just following me years later.”
“No. He worked for me for almost twenty years.”
“What happened at the meeting?”
Charles looked physically ill.
“I arrived late.”
“How late?”
“Minutes.”
“What did you see?”
“Michael was standing over my father.”
My chest tightened.
“My father had a gun?”
“No.”
“Did your father?”
“Yes.”
“Who was shot?”
“My father.”
Ryan stared.
“You thought Michael killed Grandpa.”
“Yes.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t know.”
Detective Bennett gave him an exhausted look.
Charles continued quickly.
“Thomas was there too. He had blood on his shirt.”
“So either man could have fired.”
“Yes.”
“What did Michael say?”
Charles looked at me.
“He said, ‘This ends tonight.’”
“And then?”
“My father died.”
“Did you call police?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Thomas said if police came, everything would be exposed.”
“Your father’s crimes.”
“Yes.”
“So you covered up a murder.”
Charles didn’t deny it.
Ryan stepped backward.
“Jesus Christ, Dad.”
“We reported the stroke.”
“You buried evidence.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to Michael?” I asked.
“He left.”
“Alive.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“And Thomas?”
“He stayed.”
“Did you ever ask who pulled the trigger?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“That it didn’t matter.”
I stared at him.
“It mattered to you.”
“Yes.”
“So why keep him employed?”
Charles looked toward the floor.
“Because he had the ledgers.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Everyone wanted those ledgers.
“He blackmailed you.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Seven years.”
“Until his car accident.”
“Yes.”
“Was that an accident?”
Charles looked at Detective Bennett.
“I thought it was.”
That answer was enough.
I thought about Jessica inheriting everything her father knew.
Photographs.
Secrets.
Blackmail material.
Maybe recordings.
“Jessica knew her father was blackmailing you.”
“I don’t know.”
“She knew enough to recreate what happened to me.”
“Yes.”
“She knew enough to work with Marcus.”
“Yes.”
“And now she escaped custody.”
Detective Bennett interrupted.
“She didn’t escape.”
We looked at her.
“What?”
“Jessica was never transported to jail.”
Ryan frowned.
“You said she was detained.”
“She was.”
“What happened?”
Bennett’s phone buzzed.
She read something and cursed quietly.
“Her ambulance was intercepted.”
My blood ran cold.
“Ambulance?”
“She complained of severe head pain after the collision. Paramedics transported her for evaluation.”
“And someone stopped it?”
“Apparently.”
“Who?”
“We’re trying to confirm.”
“Is anyone hurt?”
“One paramedic unconscious. One officer injured.”
Ryan paced.
“So she has help.”
“Yes.”
Marcus.
Daniel.
Someone else.
I suddenly remembered Sophie.
“Detective.”
“Yes?”
“If this is all about the Carter inheritance, why involve my baby?”
Bennett looked at me.
“That question matters.”
Charles slowly lifted his head.
“The trust.”
“What?”
“The eighty-million-dollar trust.”
“What about it?”
“The beneficiary doesn’t simply have to be my father’s biological descendant.”
Ryan frowned.
“You said DNA.”
“Yes, but there’s another requirement.”
“What?”
Charles looked toward Sophie.
“The beneficiary must also be Michael Warren’s descendant.”
My breath stopped.
“That makes no sense.”
“My father created the trust after Michael discovered the financial fraud.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
“Against what?”
“Exposure.”
Charles swallowed.
“The beneficiary named in the sealed documents was supposed to unite both family lines.”
Ryan stared at him.
“Carter and Warren.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Sophie.
Cold spread through me.
“If Sophie’s father is one of your father’s descendants…”
Charles nodded slowly.
“And you are Michael Warren’s daughter.”
Then Sophie could satisfy both sides.
“Oh my God.”
Ryan stepped toward the NICU glass.
“They’re trying to prove Sophie is the beneficiary.”
I shook my head.
“But why?”
Charles answered.
“Because whoever controls the beneficiary while she’s a minor controls the trust.”
Jessica had attacked me.
Tried to destroy my marriage.
Possibly arranged the conception itself.
Everything suddenly became terrifyingly logical.
“Custody.”
I looked at Ryan.
“If something happened to me…”
Ryan went pale.
“And if the DNA showed I wasn’t the father…”
“Then you might have no legal rights.”
Charles finished the thought.
“Someone else could claim paternity.”
Marcus.
Daniel.
Or a third unknown Carter heir.
Detective Bennett’s phone rang again.
She answered.
Listened.
Her face changed.
“What happened?” I asked.
She ended the call.
“The NICU needs to lock down.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“Now.”
She turned toward the nurse.
“Security. No visitors. Nobody enters or leaves this floor without identification.”
“Why?”
Bennett looked directly at me.
“An employee badge was just used to access the hospital’s neonatal records.”
“Whose badge?”
“A nurse who called in sick today.”
“What record?”
Bennett hesitated.
“Sophie’s.”
I grabbed the wheelchair.
“Where is she?”
“She’s still in her room.”
I pushed myself toward the NICU despite the pain.
Ryan followed.
We reached the glass.
Sophie was there.
Tiny.
Sleeping.
Safe.
I exhaled.
Then a nurse ran toward us.
“Detective!”
Bennett turned.
“What?”
“We found someone in the medication room.”
My entire body stiffened.
“Who?”
The nurse was crying.
“A man.”
“Did security stop him?”
“He ran.”
“Description?”
“Dark hair. About thirty.”
Charles and I looked at each other.
Daniel.
Ryan saw our faces.
“You think it was him.”
I immediately called Daniel.
The phone rang.
Then someone answered.
No voice.
“Daniel?”
Silence.
“Daniel, where are you?”
A breath.
Then Daniel whispered,
“Emily, don’t let them take Sophie.”
My knees weakened.
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Were you just in this hospital?”
“No.”
“Then why are you whispering?”
“Because someone is outside my apartment.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Daniel, are you Sophie’s father?”
Silence.
My heart shattered.
“Answer me.”
His voice broke.
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
“Because Jessica stole something from me.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“A sample.”
“What sample?”
“I had fertility testing done last year.”
My stomach turned.
“No.”
“Emily, listen to me.”
“No.”
“She had access to the clinic through someone who worked there.”
I wanted to vomit.
“Are you saying…”
“I never touched you.”
His voice cracked.
“I swear to God, Emily. I never touched you.”
I believed the terror in his voice.
Then he said the sentence that made everything worse.
“But if Jessica used what she stole…”
He swallowed.
“Sophie could be mine.”
A loud bang came through the phone.
Daniel gasped.
“Daniel?”
Another crash.
Then he whispered,
“They found me.”
The line went dead.
At the same moment, the NICU alarm began screaming.
I looked through the glass.
A nurse ran toward Sophie’s incubator.
Then another.
“What’s happening?”
I grabbed the door.
The nurse shouted through the glass.
May you like
“Sophie’s oxygen is dropping!”
And on the floor beside her incubator lay a syringe that had not been there seconds earlier.
