Chapter 9: The Key Inside Bunny
The brass key was barely two inches long.
Old.
Scratched.
A number was engraved into it.
317.
I stared at Sophie.
“You’ve had this for four years?””
She nodded.
“Mommy put it there.””
“You remember that?””
“No.””
She rubbed the key between her fingers.
“Aunt Claire told me Mommy gave Bunny back to me at the hospital.””
Claire covered her mouth.
“I forgot.””
“Forgot what?””
“The last night Rachel was conscious.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“She asked me to bring Bunny.””
My chest tightened.
“What happened?””
“She held it for maybe five minutes. Then she gave it back and said, ‘Make sure Sophie keeps this forever.’”
I looked at the rabbit.
A section of stitching along one ear was slightly different.
Rachel had hidden the key herself.
Martin examined it without touching.
“317 could be a safe-deposit box.””
Ramirez nodded.
“Or a locker.””
Claire suddenly inhaled.
“Union Commonwealth Bank.””
“What?””
“Rachel used to have an account there.””
“Did she have a box?””
“I don’t know.””
Martin searched the bank locations.
“There’s a downtown branch.””
I called immediately.
After several transfers, I reached a manager.
“My late wife may have held a safe-deposit box there. Rachel Harris. Maiden name Alder.””
The manager asked several verification questions.
Then she went quiet.
“Yes, Mr. Harris.””
My heart pounded.
“She had one?””
“Box 317.””
Everyone stared at the key.
“Who has access?””
“I can’t disclose details by phone.””
“I’m her husband.””
“I understand, but you’ll need to come in with identification and documentation.””
“Has anyone tried to access it recently?””
Another pause.
“I’m not permitted—”
“This may involve an active police investigation.””
Ramirez took the phone.
Within minutes, arrangements were made.
I wasn’t taking Sophie anywhere until I knew Vanessa’s location, so Claire stayed at the house with her and two officers.
Before I left, Sophie hugged me.
“Daddy?””
“Yes?””
“Don’t give the key to the old man.””
“I won’t.””
She looked directly into my eyes.
“Mommy didn’t like him.””
I kissed her forehead.
“I know.””
At the bank, Ramirez, Martin, and I were taken downstairs.
The manager, Evelyn Shaw, looked nervous.
She examined the key.
“That is ours.””
“Has anyone tried to open box 317?””
“Yes.””
“When?””
“Yesterday.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who?””
“A woman claiming to be Rachel Harris.””
I stared at her.
“My wife died four years ago.””
“I know.””
“What did this woman look like?””
Evelyn opened a file.
“Mid-thirties. Dark hair.””
Vanessa.
“She had identification?””
“Very convincing identification.””
“But she didn’t get in?””
“No key.””
I almost laughed from relief.
“She became angry when we refused access.””
“Security footage?””
“We preserved it.””
Ramirez asked for a copy.
Then Evelyn looked at me.
“There was something unusual.””
“What?””
“The woman said the box belonged to her mother.””
I frowned.
“Rachel wasn’t Vanessa’s mother.””
Martin leaned closer.
“Did she specifically say mother?””
“Yes.””
My mind raced.
Maybe Vanessa had been improvising.
Or maybe we still understood nothing.
After paperwork and verification, Evelyn led us into the vault.
Box 317 slid out.
My hand shook as I inserted Rachel’s key.
Inside was a thick envelope.
A flash drive.
A photograph.
And a sealed letter.
FOR DANIEL.
I opened the letter first.
Daniel,
If Sophie is still a child when you find this, then Thomas has probably come back.
I stopped.
Martin whispered, “Keep going.””
Thomas will tell you he wants the family company returned. Do not believe him. He wants what is on the drive.
I looked at the flash drive.
“What’s on it?””
The next paragraph answered me.
Evidence.
Financial records.
Payments.
Shell companies.
Names.
Rachel had discovered that her father had used Alder Creek to hide illegal transactions for years.
She had copied everything.
If exposed, it could destroy him financially.
Maybe criminally.
Then I reached the final lines.
There is one person you must never trust if Thomas returns.
My heart pounded.
I expected Vanessa’s name.
It wasn’t there.
Nathan Mercer.
I stared at the page.
“Rachel knew Nathan was involved.””
Martin read over my shoulder.
The letter continued.
Nathan helped me copy medical and financial records when he was young and frightened of Thomas. Later, I learned he had secretly sold information back to him. If Thomas comes for Sophie, Nathan may pretend to help you. He is not helping you.
My phone rang.
Claire.
I answered immediately.
“Daniel.””
Something was wrong.
“What happened?””
“Someone called the house.””
“Who?””
“Nathan.””
I stared at Ramirez.
“Nathan survived the explosion?””
“Yes. He wasn’t in the car.””
“What did he want?””
Claire’s breathing was uneven.
“He wants Sophie.””
My blood went cold.
“What?””
“He said we have thirty minutes to bring her to St. Anne’s.””
“Why?””
“He said if we don’t, Vanessa dies.””
I froze.
Vanessa.
Alive.
Claire continued.
“He sent a video.””
“Send it to me.””
My phone chimed.
I opened the file.
Vanessa sat tied to a chair in what looked like a hospital storage room.
Her wedding dress was still torn.
Blood marked one side of her forehead.
She looked into the camera.
“Daniel, please.””
A man’s hand entered the frame and grabbed her hair.
She screamed.
Then Nathan’s voice spoke from behind the camera.
“Bring Sophie and the key.””
I looked at Ramirez.
“How does he know about the key?””
Then Vanessa shouted something before the video ended.
“He doesn’t want the key!””
Nathan struck her.
“Shut up.””
Vanessa screamed louder.
“Daniel, listen to me! The key is only proof!””
The camera shook.
“What proof?”” I whispered.
Vanessa looked straight into the lens.
“That Sophie isn’t Rachel’s only child.””
The video ended.
Nobody moved.
Martin slowly turned toward me.
“What did she mean?””
I stared at Rachel’s photograph lying inside the box.
There were two babies in her arms.
Not one.
May you like
And on the back, in Rachel’s handwriting, were six words:
Sophie and Emily. My beautiful girls.
