Chapter 5
I called Michael.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
Detective Bennett took my phone.
“Stop.”
“He’s my brother.”
“And potentially involved in kidnapping your daughter.”
“That’s exactly why I’m calling him.”
“No. That’s exactly why you shouldn’t.”
I looked at her.
“You think he’ll run?”
“I think he may already be running.”
Police went to Michael’s house.
Empty.
His car was gone.
His office had not seen him since the previous afternoon.
His private plane was still at Love Field.
His passport had not been scanned.
That did not comfort me.
Michael was smarter than that.
He had spent his entire life believing he was smarter than me.
Growing up, he was the golden son.
Older.
Popular.
Athletic.
My father expected him to inherit the family construction company.
I was the quiet kid who built software in his bedroom.
Then my company became worth billions.
Everything changed.
Dad suddenly talked about me at dinners.
Magazine profiles called me a visionary.
Michael became “Daniel Cole’s older brother.”
He laughed about it.
At least I thought he laughed.
Now every memory felt contaminated.
“Why would he do this?”
Bennett did not answer.
She did not have to.
Money.
Jealousy.
Control.
People had killed for less.
But kidnapping Lily?
Rachel?
Terrorizing Emma?
That was not business.
That was personal.
The basement recordings gave police part of the answer.
Vanessa and Michael had been involved long before she met me.
Not married.
Not officially together.
But intimate.
Secretly.
The first recovered video was dated six years and eleven months earlier.
Three weeks before Vanessa and I supposedly met for the first time.
Michael kissed her in a hotel room.
Then handed her an envelope.
Inside were photographs.
The photographs Rachel had shown me.
Fake photographs.
My stomach turned.
The second recording was worse.
Vanessa asked, “What if Rachel contacts him?”
Michael answered, “She won’t get close enough.”
Vanessa smiled.
“And if she does?”
“Then you handle it.”
I stopped the video.
“I can’t watch this.”
Bennett closed the laptop.
“You don’t need to right now.”
“Yes, I do.”
I opened it again.
“Play it.”
The next clip was from four years earlier.
Michael and Vanessa arguing.
“You were supposed to marry him, not fall in love with the lifestyle.”
Vanessa laughed.
“What’s the difference?”
“The difference is we had a plan.”
“We still do.”
“He put your name in the trust.”
“Not enough.”
“He trusts you.”
“He trusts everyone.”
Michael looked directly toward the hidden camera without realizing it.
“That’s his problem.”
I felt physically sick.
They had engineered my marriage.
Destroyed my relationship with Rachel.
Placed Vanessa near me.
Why?
The recordings jumped forward.
Eight months ago.
Michael was furious.
“She kept copies.”
Vanessa asked, “Copies of what?”
“Everything.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“And the kid?”
“She may know.”
Vanessa cursed.
“We can’t keep her.”
“We keep her until she tells us.”
“And Rachel?”
Michael lowered his voice.
“We deal with Rachel separately.”
The clip ended.
I stared at the black screen.
“What did Rachel have?”
“We don’t know.”
“The key.”
Bennett nodded.
“That’s our best guess.”
“Box 317.”
“Yes.”
“When are you going?”
“A team is already on the way.”
I stood.
“I’m going too.”
“No.”
“Detective—”
“Your daughters need you.”
That stopped me.
My daughters.
Plural.
I looked through the glass.
Emma was trying to teach Lily how to use a tablet.
Lily tapped the wrong icon.
Emma giggled.
Lily smiled.
It was the first time I had seen her smile.
Bennett was right.
For once in my life, the most important place was not where the answers were.
It was beside my children.
At noon, a social worker arrived.
Her name was Karen Mills.
She explained temporary custody.
Lily was biologically mine, but because she had been listed as missing and because her mother’s status remained unknown, a judge would need to sign emergency placement paperwork.
“I want her with me.”
Karen nodded.
“That’s the goal if the home is safe.”
“The home is a crime scene.”
“Exactly.”
“I have another property.”
“Where?”
“Highland Park.”
Bennett looked up.
“Who knows about it?”
“Family.”
“Then don’t use it.”
I understood immediately.
Michael knew every major property I owned.
“What do you suggest?”
“A secure temporary residence,” Bennett said.
“My security team can arrange it.”
She shook her head.
“Until we know how Michael accessed your home, assume your security has been compromised.”
Marcus.
My head of security.
I did not want to think it.
But I had trusted Vanessa.
I had trusted Michael.
Trust was no longer evidence.
At 2:40, Bennett received the Austin call.
“They opened box 317.”
I stood.
“What was inside?”
“Documents. A flash drive. An old phone. Photographs.”
“Rachel?”
“And a handwritten letter addressed to you.”
My chest tightened.
“Where is it?”
“Being transported.”
“Can they photograph it?”
“They already did.”
She handed me her phone.
The letter filled the screen.
Daniel,
If you are reading this, something happened to me.
I stopped.
My hands started shaking.
I kept reading.
I tried to tell you about Lily many times.
The first letter came back.
The second disappeared.
When I came to your office, Vanessa met me in the lobby and told me you wanted nothing to do with us.
I believed her.
I am ashamed that I believed her.
Years later, I learned the truth.
Michael contacted me.
He said he wanted to help.
He lied.
They have been moving money through your company.
Not thousands.
Millions.
They are using shell vendors and fake acquisitions.
I copied what I could.
If I expose them, I believe they will hurt me.
If anything happens, protect Lily.
She knows only that you are her father.
Please don’t hate me.
Rachel.
I lowered the phone.
My vision blurred.
“She knew about financial crimes.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“We don’t know.”
“My brother and wife used my company.”
“It appears that way.”
“And Rachel found out.”
“Yes.”
I stared at the letter again.
“Then they took her.”
“That is one working theory.”
“Where is she?”
“We’re searching.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Bennett immediately noticed.
“Don’t answer.”
Another message appeared.
A photograph.
Rachel.
Alive.
Sitting in a chair.
Holding today’s newspaper.
My heart stopped.
Bennett grabbed the phone.
Below the image was a message.
You opened the box.
Now I open mine.
Another photo arrived.
A dark room.
Concrete walls.
Rachel sitting in the middle.
This time there was a man behind her.
Michael.
My brother was looking directly at the camera.
Then a third message appeared.
Bring me Lily’s key.
May you like
Come alone.
Or her mother dies before sunset.
