Chapter 9
Officer Harris arrived in twelve minutes.
She read the message once.
Then again.
“You are not going.”
I looked at her.
“They have Patricia.”
“And that is exactly why you are not going.”
“She came here because of me.”
“No. She came here because she witnessed a crime.”
Daniel arrived five minutes later.
I didn’t ask how he knew.
At this point, secrets traveled faster than police.
He looked at the photograph.
His face hardened.
“Victoria.”
Officer Harris snapped, “You do not know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
Daniel enlarged the photograph.
Behind Patricia’s shoulder was part of a car interior.
A silver emblem.
A tiny V surrounded by wings.
“Custom badge.”
Ryan stared.
“Victoria’s?”
“Her security fleet.”
Henry arrived behind Daniel.
Officer Harris swore.
“Does everyone have this address?”
“No,” Daniel said.
“Apparently enough people.”
I looked at the message.
Whitmore House.
The property tied to the trust.
The land worth one hundred and eighty million.
“Why there?”
Henry answered.
“Because that’s where Blackridge began.”
I looked at him.
“What is at that house?”
“Underground access.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Henry.”
“No more secrets.”
Officer Harris crossed her arms.
“I agree.”
Henry continued.
“The mansion has an old service tunnel beneath it.”
“To what?”
“Originally, wine storage and storm shelters.”
“And later?”
“Blackridge used part of the tunnel system for document storage.”
I felt cold.
“Documents they couldn’t destroy?”
“Documents Edward Whitmore didn’t trust anyone else to hold.”
Daniel looked at me.
“When Claire created the trust, she didn’t only trap the land.”
“What else?”
“She trapped the evidence under it.”
I stared.
“My mother knew?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Daniel shook his head.
“She never told me the exact location.”
“But Victoria thinks I know.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Claire left instructions to the beneficiary.”
“My mother’s letter?”
“Possibly.”
I remembered the wooden box.
The letters.
The necklace.
The birth certificate.
I had only read the first letter.
There had been others.
I grabbed my evidence list.
“The box.”
Officer Harris frowned.
“What about it?”
“There were several letters inside. You took the box into evidence.”
She called the station.
Ten minutes later, a photographed inventory appeared on her phone.
Seven letters.
One necklace.
Birth certificate.
Photographs.
A small brass pendant.
“Pendant,” Henry said.
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Zoom in.”
Officer Harris enlarged the photograph.
The necklace I had always believed belonged to my mother.
A small oval pendant.
Henry stared.
“That’s not jewelry.”
Daniel moved closer.
His eyes widened.
“That’s a key.”
My heart pounded.
“To what?”
Henry looked at the message demanding I go to Whitmore House.
“I think we just found out.”
Officer Harris started making calls.
A tactical team.
State police.
Federal authorities.
No one told me details.
For once, I didn’t fight them.
I wanted Patricia alive.
I wanted Emma safe.
And I wanted the truth.
We left Emma with Lauren under police protection.
Before I left, I kissed her forehead.
She opened her eyes.
“Mommy?”
“Go back to sleep.”
“Where are you going?”
“To help somebody.”
“Are you coming back?”
The question crushed me.
I smiled.
“Yes.”
I prayed I wasn’t lying.
Whitmore House sat thirty miles outside town behind rusted gates and acres of trees.
Police staged nearly a mile away.
No lights.
No sirens.
Officer Harris handed me a small transmitter.
“You are not going inside alone.”
“The message says alone.”
“They will expect surveillance.”
“What if they search me?”
“This device is beneath your clothing.”
Daniel said, “There’s an eastern service entrance.”
Officer Harris looked at him.
“You stay here.”
“I know the house.”
“You still stay here.”
Ryan touched my arm.
I looked at his hand.
Then his face.
“I should go.”
“No.”
“Sarah.”
“They asked for me.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
His eyes filled.
“If something happens—”
“Don’t.”
“I need to say it.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“I failed you.”
My throat tightened.
“I believed my mother when I should have talked to you. I hid the key. I hid the divorce papers. I let fear make decisions for me.”
I said nothing.
“But I never chose them over you.”
I looked at him.
“You did for three weeks.”
He flinched.
I continued.
“And if we survive tonight, you’re going to spend a long time proving that never happens again.”
Hope flickered in his eyes.
“Does that mean—”
“It means survive tonight.”
I walked away.
Whitmore House was enormous.
Dark windows.
Stone walls.
Dead vines.
The front door stood open.
I stepped inside.
“Patricia?”
No answer.
My footsteps echoed.
A light turned on in the central hall.
Victoria Whitmore stood at the top of the staircase.
She looked exactly like her photographs.
Elegant.
Silver-blonde hair.
Perfect black coat.
Calm.
“Sarah.”
I stared.
“You look like him.”
“Daniel?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Where is Patricia?”
“Safe.”
“I want to see her.”
“You will.”
“Now.”
Victoria smiled.
“You have Claire’s temper.”
“You knew my mother?”
“Very well.”
“Did you kill her?”
Her smile faded.
“No.”
I laughed.
“Everyone says that right before they tell me why someone else did.”
Victoria descended the stairs.
“You think Daniel is telling you the truth because he finally admitted a few sins.”
“I think all of you are liars.”
“That’s healthier.”
She stopped ten feet away.
“Give me the key.”
“What key?”
“The pendant.”
“I don’t have it.”
Victoria studied me.
Then smiled.
“Police have it.”
I said nothing.
“You’re wired too.”
My heart pounded.
She opened her coat slowly.
No weapon.
“You can tell them to come in.”
I stared.
“What?”
“I said call them.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t bring you here to hurt you.”
“Then where is Patricia?”
Victoria pulled out her phone.
She showed me a live video.
Patricia sat in a room.
Hands free.
A bottle of water beside her.
Terrified but apparently unharmed.
I whispered, “Why kidnap her?”
“To make sure you came.”
“You could have called.”
“You wouldn’t have listened.”
“That tends to happen when your people attack my house.”
Victoria’s expression hardened.
“Marcus Dale does not work for me.”
“He had your photograph.”
“Because he was following me too.”
I frowned.
“Who does he work for?”
“I hoped you knew.”
Something in her voice felt real.
That frightened me.
“You wanted my trust rights.”
“Yes.”
“You manipulated Margaret.”
“Yes.”
“You tried to destroy my marriage.”
Victoria didn’t deny it.
“Why?”
“Because Daniel cannot be allowed access to Blackridge.”
“He says you’re trying to get it.”
“I am.”
“For money.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“To destroy it.”
I laughed.
“Convenient.”
Victoria’s eyes hardened.
“My father created Blackridge. Daniel protected it. Henry cleaned it. Charles killed for it. Claire trapped it.”
“And you?”
“I spent thirty years trying to make sure it never happened again.”
“You threatened my mother?”
“No.”
“You were at the hospital when she died.”
“Yes.”
My heart pounded.
“You entered her room.”
“Yes.”
“Ryan saw you.”
“I know.”
“Did you inject her?”
Victoria’s face changed.
Pain.
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“She gave me something.”
“What?”
Victoria looked toward the floor beneath us.
“The location of Edward’s archive.”
My pulse jumped.
“She trusted you?”
“She hated me.”
“That sounds more believable.”
“But she hated Daniel more.”
A movement sounded upstairs.
I looked up.
A door opened.
Patricia stepped into the hall.
Alive.
“Sarah.”
I ran toward her.
Victoria didn’t stop me.
Patricia came down.
I hugged her.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did she threaten you?”
Patricia looked at Victoria.
“She scared the hell out of me.”
“Did she hurt you?”
“No.”
Officer Harris’s voice crackled faintly through my hidden receiver.
Hold position.
Victoria heard nothing.
She said, “Ask Patricia who injected Claire.”
I turned.
Patricia’s face went pale.
“You said you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t see the injection happen.”
“Then who?”
“I found a syringe.”
My heart pounded.
“Where?”
“In a trash container outside Claire’s room.”
“Fingerprints?”
Patricia shook her head.
“Hospital administration took it.”
“Who?”
“A man from risk management.”
“Name.”
“Henry Cole.”
My body went cold.
Victoria watched me.
“Now you understand.”
Henry.
Not Charles.
Not Margaret.
Not Victoria.
Henry had access.
Henry had destroyed evidence before.
Henry knew the storage unit.
Henry knew every secret we found.
I whispered, “Henry killed my mother?”
Victoria shook her head.
“No.”
“Then why take the syringe?”
“Because Daniel ordered him to.”
I felt sick.
“Daniel?”
Victoria nodded.
“Claire had decided to release everything. Daniel couldn’t allow that.”
My transmitter crackled.
Officer Harris whispered, We heard that.
Victoria walked toward the old fireplace.
She removed a loose stone.
Behind it was a metal slot shaped like the pendant.
“The key opens the archive.”
I stared.
“Why do you need me?”
“Because the mechanism requires two things.”
“What?”
“The key.”
“And?”
She looked at me.
“A Bennett fingerprint.”
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
“Charles built the lock.”
Ryan.
I looked toward the dark windows.
“He knew someone would come for the records.”
“Yes.”
“Which Bennett?”
“Charles.”
“He’s dead.”
Victoria smiled sadly.
“His son will work.”
I shook my head.
“Ryan isn’t biologically his son.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Fingerprints aren’t inherited.”
“I know.”
“Then why Ryan?”
“Because Charles changed the lock before he died.”
My heart pounded.
“To Ryan’s fingerprint?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Ryan touched the scanner when he was seventeen.”
Ryan’s voice came through the hidden receiver.
What?
I almost smiled despite everything.
Victoria continued.
“Charles told him it was a security system prototype.”
I remembered Ryan mentioning his father’s strange work.
“Why would Charles give Ryan access?”
“Because he wanted him to expose us.”
“Then why the complicated key?”
“Because he trusted you more.”
I stared.
“Me?”
“Claire had the key. Ryan had the biometric access. Neither of you could open it alone.”
My chest tightened.
Our marriage.
The reason Daniel had manipulated our jobs?
No.
Maybe Charles had manipulated them.
I whispered, “Who arranged for Ryan and me to meet?”
Victoria looked surprised.
“What?”
“Daniel says he placed us at Benton.”
Victoria laughed.
For the first time, genuine shock crossed her face.
“Daniel told you that?”
“Yes.”
“He’s lying.”
My stomach dropped.
“Then who?”
“Charles.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“Because he wanted the two people who could open Blackridge to trust each other.”
My mind reeled.
Charles had killed my father.
Then spent decades trying to repair what he had destroyed.
He had brought Ryan and me together.
I didn’t know whether to hate him more or less.
Suddenly headlights swept across the windows.
Victoria turned.
“That’s not police.”
Patricia looked terrified.
“How do you know?”
“Police are already here.”
The front door exploded inward.
Gunshots shattered the hall.
Victoria dragged me behind a stone column.
Patricia screamed.
Men in black tactical gear rushed inside.
Not police.
Victoria shouted, “They found us!”
I heard Officer Harris through the receiver.
Move! Move! Move!
Real police stormed from the side entrances.
Chaos erupted.
I crawled behind the staircase.
Patricia followed.
Victoria pulled a pistol from an ankle holster.
I stared.
She said, “Later.”
A masked attacker moved toward us.
Victoria fired once.
He dropped.
Nonfatal or fatal, I didn’t know.
I didn’t look.
Ryan appeared through the eastern entrance with Officer Harris.
“Sarah!”
I ran to him.
Then Daniel stepped through the shattered front door.
“Stop!”
Everyone turned.
One of the masked attackers ripped off his face covering.
Henry.
My blood froze.
He grabbed Daniel.
Pressed a gun to his neck.
Officer Harris aimed.
“Drop it!”
Henry smiled.
“No.”
I stared.
“You attacked the storage unit.”
“Not personally.”
“You sent Marcus.”
“Yes.”
“You broke into my house.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill my mother?”
Henry’s smile faded.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
He tightened his grip on Daniel.
“Your father knows.”
I looked at Daniel.
His face was white.
“Tell her,” Henry said.
Daniel’s eyes filled with tears.
I felt sick.
“Tell me.”
Daniel whispered, “Claire asked me to.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“She asked me to help her die.”
The entire room went silent.
Daniel continued.
“She was in agony. The cancer had spread everywhere.”
Patricia started crying.
“No.”
“She knew she had days left. Maybe hours.”
I stared.
“You gave her the injection?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
Henry closed his eyes.
May you like
And said,
“I did.”
