Chapter 10 - THE BENNETT HOUSE
The Bennett house stood in a quiet suburb thirty miles west of Chicago.
Grace had not entered it in five years.
The front porch sagged.
Paint peeled from the shutters.
The yard had grown wild.
Nathan stood beside her behind the federal vehicles.
“You don’t have to go inside.”
Grace looked at the house.
“Yes, I do.”
Agents cleared the property first.
No Leonard Voss.
But there were signs someone had lived there recently.
Food in the refrigerator.
Fresh clothes.
Prescription bottles under a false name.
A laptop with its hard drive removed.
Grace entered the living room.
Everything had changed.
Yet nothing had.
She could still see where her father’s chair had been.
Where her mother used to keep family photographs.
Where her brother threw his backpack after school.
Nathan remained close without crowding her.
Grace walked toward the kitchen.
She stopped.
A small wooden carving hung beside the back door.
A bird.
Nathan noticed her expression.
“What?”
“My father made that.”
She touched it.
“He carved birds when he couldn’t sleep.”
Nathan looked at the carving.
Grace suddenly remembered Robert’s question.
What did Michael save first?
She stared at the bird.
Nathan saw the realization.
“What?”
“The first thing my father ever saved.”
Grace pulled the carving from the wall.
Behind it was a small cavity.
Inside sat a key.
Nathan’s pulse accelerated.
Grace whispered.
“When I was six, there was a storm.”
“A baby bird fell from a nest.”
“My father kept it in a shoebox until it could fly.”
Nathan stared at the key.
“The bird.”
Grace nodded.
“That’s the answer.”
An agent approached.
“There’s a locked room in the basement.”
They followed him downstairs.
The key fit.
Inside was a narrow office.
A desk.
Two chairs.
A safe.
And photographs of the Bennett family.
Grace stared at one photograph of herself at twelve.
Someone had been using her childhood home as an operations base.
Nathan felt disgusted.
Grace opened the desk.
Inside was a legal pad.
Recent handwriting.
Leonard Voss.
He had been writing names.
Dates.
Locations.
Nathan recognized several politicians.
Two judges.
A hospital administrator.
The former head of state records.
Grace found a page labeled ROBERT COLE.
Underneath was a timeline of symptoms.
Nathan read it.
Dizziness.
Fatigue.
Cardiac irregularity.
Dose increase.
Nathan closed his eyes.
The details were clinical.
Detached.
Proof that his father’s death had been planned.
Grace touched his arm.
Nathan did not pull away.
An agent called from the safe.
“Mr. Cole.”
Inside were stacks of documents and cash.
But the most important item was a passport.
Leonard Voss.
Issued under his real name.
And an airline itinerary.
Flight scheduled that evening from Chicago to Zurich.
Nathan looked at the departure time.
“Four hours.”
Federal authorities moved immediately.
Airports were alerted.
Border agencies flagged the passport.
Nathan and Grace returned to the city.
Two hours later, Leonard Voss was arrested trying to enter a private terminal using a second identity.
News leaked before sunset.
CHARLES WHITMORE ATTORNEY DETAINED IN FEDERAL INVESTIGATION.
Whitmore Holdings stock fell eight percent in after-hours trading.
Nathan watched the financial news from the safe house.
Grace sat beside Lily on the couch.
Lily built a tower from wooden blocks.
Nathan’s phone rang.
Daniel.
“Voss is talking.”
Nathan stood.
“What did he say?”
“He wants immunity.”
“From what?”
Daniel laughed without humor.
“Apparently he has a long list.”
Nathan walked away from Lily.
“Does he have evidence against Charles?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough that prosecutors are interested.”
Nathan looked at Grace.
Daniel continued.
“But he wants something else.”
“What?”
“Protection for his daughter.”
Nathan frowned.
“I didn’t know Voss had a daughter.”
“Neither did Charles.”
Nathan understood.
“Charles threatened her.”
“Voss thinks he will.”
Nathan looked toward the window.
“He probably will.”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Voss also confirmed the trust fraud.”
“And Robert’s poisoning.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
“He can prove it?”
“He claims Martin administered it.”
“Charles ordered it.”
“And a hospital administrator falsified medical records.”
Nathan opened his eyes.
“Who?”
Daniel said the name.
Nathan recognized it instantly.
Dr. Evan Mercer.
The same physician Charles Whitmore had recommended when Nathan suffered a shoulder injury three years earlier.
Nathan felt sick.
Daniel continued.
“There’s one more thing.”
“Voss says Charles has been preparing to leave the country.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Nathan looked at the television.
Whitmore’s private jet was registered through a holding company.
“Where?”
“Federal agents are tracking the aircraft.”
Grace approached.
Nathan placed the call on speaker.
Daniel said.
“But Voss does not believe Charles will use the plane.”
Nathan frowned.
“Why?”
“Because Charles knows everyone will watch airports.”
“He has another route.”
Grace asked.
“What route?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Lake Michigan.”
Nathan looked at Grace.
She suddenly remembered the warehouse.
The trains.
The industrial district.
The old shipping connections.
“Charles owns cargo docks.”
Nathan nodded.
Whitmore Shipping operated private freight terminals near the lake.
Nathan grabbed his jacket.
Grace stared at him.
“Where are you going?”
“To give federal agents a list of every dock Charles controls.”
Grace picked up her coat.
Nathan frowned.
“No.”
Grace looked toward Lily.
A female federal protection officer already sat nearby.
“Nathan.”
“This started with my father.”
“It continued with yours.”
“And it stole four years from our daughter.”
She stepped closer.
“I am done being the person everyone tells to hide.”
Nathan stared at her.
Then he nodded.
“Stay beside me.”
Grace answered.
“Try keeping up.”
For the first time that day, Nathan smiled.
Twenty minutes later, their car entered Chicago.
Neither of them noticed the gray sedan following three vehicles behind.
Inside it, Martin Vale lifted his phone.
He sent Charles Whitmore one message.
THEY ARE MOVING.
Charles responded.
GOOD.
May you like
BRING ME GRACE.
*
