Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW
Detective Ortiz stopped the video.
Adrian stared at the frozen image of his grandmother.
Thomas looked ready to collapse.
Robert closed his eyes.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then Adrian said, “Play it again.”
Ortiz shook her head.
“You heard enough.”
“I want to hear her say it again.”
“Adrian.”
“My brother spent six years in a grave because everyone told me his heart failed.”
His voice broke.
“I want to hear her say it.”
Ortiz replayed the final twenty seconds.
Mercer’s voice.
You told me to make sure he never talked.
Eleanor’s voice.
You assured me his death would look natural.
When it ended, Adrian turned away.
I followed him into the hallway.
He leaned against the wall.
“I believed it.”
“What?”
“That Daniel died from the condition.”
“You were lied to.”
“I spent six years waiting for my heart to do the same thing.”
I took his hand.
“Your heart was never the danger.”
He looked toward the study.
“My family was.”
Detective Ortiz immediately contacted homicide investigators.
The Vale mansion became a crime scene before midnight.
But Eleanor was gone.
So was Dr. Mercer.
The bedroom had been cleaned.
The sheet was missing.
The plant Adrian had poured the drink into had been removed.
A fireplace had recently been used.
Someone had burned papers.
But they hadn’t found Daniel’s hidden evidence.
That was the mistake that finally cracked the family open.
By three in the morning, investigators had warrants for Eleanor’s financial records, Mercer’s residence, and several properties controlled by the trust.
I expected Adrian to sleep.
He couldn’t.
Neither could I.
We sat together inside a guarded hotel room while rain tapped against the windows.
At 4:17 a.m., my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Adrian and I looked at each other.
I answered on speaker.
“Hello?”
A woman whispered, “Did you find Daniel’s drawer?”
I sat upright.
“Who is this?”
“You found it.”
It wasn’t a question.
Detective Ortiz had given us strict instructions not to communicate with unknown contacts without informing her.
I began recording the call.
“Were you sending the messages?”
“Yes.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Rebecca Arden.”
Adrian froze.
Arden.
Michael Arden.
“Are you related to Michael Arden?”
A pause.
“He was my father.”
Adrian stood.
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Is Michael alive?”
Another pause.
“No.”
My stomach tightened.
“How did he die?”
“He disappeared when I was seven.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“I found his remains fourteen years later.”
Adrian sank back into the chair.
Rebecca continued.
“The police classified it as an accident.”
“Was it?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because my father left me a box before he disappeared.”
“What was inside?”
“Letters.”
“To whom?”
“Eleanor Vale.”
Adrian covered his mouth.
Rebecca’s voice trembled slightly.
“My father believed she loved him.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
“Then what was he to her?”
“A source.”
The word landed like ice.
“A source of what?”
“Healthy genetic material.”
Adrian stood again.
Rebecca continued.
“Eleanor’s husband carried the mutation.”
“We know.”
“She became obsessed with removing it from the next generation.”
“Did Michael donate?”
“Yes.”
“Voluntarily?”
“At first.”
My skin crawled.
“What happened later?”
“He realized she wasn’t helping infertile couples.”
“What was she doing?”
“Choosing which Vale children would be born.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Rebecca continued.
“Your mother wasn’t the only woman.”
“How many?”
“At least four.”
“Was Michael my biological father?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you find out?”
“I already did.”
The room went silent.
Adrian’s hand found mine.
Rebecca inhaled.
“My father had a rare genetic marker.”
“And?”
“You have it.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
I squeezed his hand.
“You’re sure?”
“I compared DNA from an ancestry database after Daniel contacted me.”
Adrian looked toward the phone.
“Daniel knew you?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He wanted proof.”
“He had proof.”
“He wanted enough proof to destroy Eleanor legally.”
“And that got him killed.”
Rebecca said nothing.
That silence was answer enough.
“What else did Daniel find?”
“He found children.”
I frowned.
“What children?”
“People who should have been Vales.”
Adrian stared at me.
Rebecca continued.
“Eleanor didn’t only replace genetic material.”
“What are you saying?”
“She also removed children who didn’t meet her standard.”
My stomach dropped.
“Removed how?”
“Some pregnancies were terminated without the mothers knowing the real reason.”
Adrian went pale.
“And others?”
Rebecca’s voice became even quieter.
“Others were born.”
“And?”
“They disappeared from the family.”
The rain outside suddenly sounded much louder.
“Where did they go?”
“Private adoptions.”
Adrian whispered, “Jesus.”
Rebecca continued.
“Daniel found three.”
“Three what?”
“Vale children who were secretly adopted away because they carried the mutation.”
I thought of Eleanor describing bloodline preservation.
It had never been about love.
It had been about design.
Control.
Selection.
Human beings reduced to acceptable and unacceptable outcomes.
“Where are those people now?”
“One is dead.”
“And the others?”
“One refuses contact.”
“What about the third?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“The third has been trying to expose Eleanor for twenty years.”
“Who?”
Before she could answer, someone pounded against our hotel room door.
Adrian stood.
Security called from outside.
“Mr. Vale, stay away from the door.”
More voices.
Then Detective Ortiz shouted something in the hallway.
Rebecca whispered through the phone.
“They found you.”
“Who?”
The hotel fire alarm suddenly began screaming.
Smoke appeared beneath the door.
Adrian grabbed my arm.
Rebecca shouted, “Do not use the hallway.”
The call disconnected.
Smoke thickened.
Someone was setting fire to the corridor.
Adrian ran toward the window.
We were on the sixth floor.
There was no balcony.
May you like
Behind us, the door handle began turning.
Someone outside had a key.
