Chapter 7 - THE FIRE
Adrian dragged a chair beneath the door handle.
The electronic lock flashed green.
Someone outside pushed.
The chair held.
For the moment.
Smoke continued entering beneath the door.
“Bathroom.”
We ran.
Adrian soaked towels beneath the faucet and pushed them along the gap.
I called 911 even though alarms were already screaming throughout the building.
The dispatcher told us firefighters were responding.
Then the lights went out.
Complete darkness swallowed the room.
Someone hit the door from outside.
Once.
Twice.
The chair scraped across the carpet.
“This isn’t about the fire,” I whispered.
“No.”
Adrian searched the room with his phone flashlight.
“Service staircase.”
“The hallway is burning.”
“Not the hallway.”
He pointed toward a maintenance diagram on the back of the closet door.
A narrow staff-access door connected adjoining service areas between certain suites.
Our room had one.
Adrian shoved the dresser aside.
Behind it was a small locked panel.
He kicked it twice.
The frame splintered.
We squeezed through into darkness.
Behind us, our main hotel door crashed open.
A man entered.
We heard footsteps.
Adrian pulled the service panel closed.
We moved through a narrow utility passage.
Smoke was lighter there.
The passage ended near a service stairwell.
We descended two floors before hearing voices below.
Adrian stopped.
Two men were coming upward.
We went back.
A housekeeping door opened onto the fifth floor.
Smoke filled the western corridor, but sprinklers had activated.
Guests were evacuating.
We blended into the crowd.
A hand suddenly grabbed Adrian.
He spun.
Detective Ortiz.
Her jacket was soaked.
“There you are.”
“Someone entered our room.”
“I know.”
“Who?”
“We caught one.”
“And the other?”
She looked toward the stairwell.
“Still missing.”
Firefighters escorted us outside.
The fire was contained within twenty minutes.
It had started in a linen cart.
Accelerant had been used.
The man captured near our room carried a key card programmed less than an hour earlier.
He also had a photograph of us.
His name was Victor Hale.
I remembered it immediately.
Daniel’s notebook.
Victor Hale.
He wasn’t family.
He wasn’t a doctor.
He was a former private security contractor employed by Vale Holdings.
Detective Ortiz questioned him until sunrise.
He said nothing.
Then investigators searched his vehicle.
They found cash.
Three phones.
A passport under another name.
And a printed flight itinerary.
Two tickets.
One for Victor Hale.
One for Eleanor Vale.
Destination Switzerland.
Eleanor had been planning to leave the country.
But she had not boarded the flight.
That meant she was still nearby.
At nine that morning, Rebecca Arden called again.
This time Detective Ortiz listened.
Rebecca agreed to meet.
The location was a small church thirty miles outside the city.
We arrived with two unmarked police vehicles.
Rebecca was waiting in the cemetery.
She was forty-three.
Dark hair.
Gray coat.
Tired eyes.
And when Adrian saw her, something about his expression changed.
She looked familiar.
Not because he knew her.
Because she looked like him.
The same shape of the eyes.
The same jawline.
She noticed it too.
“My father’s eyes,” she whispered.
Adrian didn’t know what to say.
Rebecca handed Detective Ortiz a metal box.
Inside were letters written by Eleanor.
Most were more than thirty years old.
Michael, the first procedure was successful.
Michael, Thomas believes the child is his.
Michael, we cannot allow sentiment to interfere with preservation.
One letter referred to Adrian’s mother by name.
Another referred to Daniel.
A third contained something far worse.
There were initials beside pregnancy results.
M.
F.
Positive.
Negative.
Keep.
Remove.
I stopped reading.
Adrian didn’t.
His hands shook harder with every page.
Finally Rebecca touched his arm.
“There’s more.”
“How could there be more?”
“My father discovered one baby who was supposed to disappear.”
Adrian looked up.
“What happened?”
“He stopped it.”
“How?”
“He altered the records.”
“Which child?”
Rebecca looked toward the church.
“Her name is Laura.”
“Where is she?”
“Inside.”
We entered the church.
A woman stood near the altar.
She was approximately fifty.
Silver threaded through her dark hair.
She turned when she heard us.
Adrian stopped.
Thomas had shown me photographs of Adrian’s grandfather when he was young.
This woman had his face.
Not vaguely.
Unmistakably.
“Adrian,” Rebecca said, “this is Laura Bennett.”
Laura looked at him for a long time.
Then she said, “I’m your father’s sister.”
Adrian stared at her.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
She stepped forward.
“I was born sixteen months after Robert.”
“Why have I never heard of you?”
“Because I carried the mutation.”
The answer landed with brutal simplicity.
Laura continued.
“Eleanor told everyone I died at birth.”
Adrian’s face drained of color.
“She gave you away.”
“She tried.”
“What stopped her?”
“Michael Arden.”
Rebecca looked down.
Laura continued.
“He changed the discharge documents and placed me with a family Eleanor didn’t know.”
“Did my grandfather know?”
“No.”
“Did my father?”
“No.”
“Robert?”
“No.”
Adrian whispered, “Why didn’t you come back?”
Laura’s expression became bitter.
“I did.”
“When?”
“Twenty-two years ago.”
“What happened?”
“I met Eleanor.”
My skin prickled.
“She threatened you.”
“She did more than threaten me.”
Laura pulled up the sleeve of her coat.
A long scar crossed her forearm.
“She made it very clear what happened to people who challenged her.”
Adrian looked at Detective Ortiz.
“You have enough now.”
Ortiz nodded slowly.
“We have enough for several charges.”
“Then arrest her.”
“We have to find her first.”
Laura looked toward us.
“I know where she is.”
Everyone turned.
“There is another Vale property.”
Adrian frowned.
“No, there isn’t.”
“Yes.”
Laura removed an old photograph from her purse.
It showed a stone house surrounded by trees.
“Eleanor bought it through a shell company forty years ago.”
“What is it?”
Laura stared at Adrian.
“The place where she kept records she never trusted anyone else to see.”
Rebecca asked, “How do you know?”
May you like
Laura’s answer made the entire church go silent.
“Because Daniel called me from there the night before he died.”
