Chapter 5 - THE CHILD NOBODY TALKED ABOUT
"Which child?" I demanded.
Ethan stared at the strip of paper.
He didn't answer.
I took it from him.
"Your mother wrote that Margaret Monroe knew where a child had been taken. Are we talking about me?"
"I don't know."
"Then stop looking like you do."
His expression hardened, but he said nothing.
We were sitting on the concrete floor of my mother's storage unit, surrounded by dusty boxes.
The billionaire crime boss who'd once owned half my wardrobe was holding a broken cardboard lid.
It would have been funny under different circumstances.
I looked at the handwriting again.
Eleanor Blackwood had apparently trusted my mother with her bracelet.
My mother had hidden it for nearly seventeen years.
And somewhere in the middle of all that secrecy was a missing child.
"Did your parents have another baby?" I asked.
Ethan shook his head.
"I was an only child."
"Are you sure?"
He looked offended.
"I think I'd know."
"Until yesterday, you thought you were about to become a father."
That ended the argument.
Ethan rubbed his forehead.
"Fair point."
I almost smiled.
Then I remembered the handwriting on the bracelet.
"Margaret Monroe came to see me yesterday."
His head lifted.
"What?"
"She wanted me to stop investigating Vanessa."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because we've been divorced for approximately five minutes, and I wasn't aware we had a daily reporting arrangement."
"Claire."
"She showed me Daniel's photograph."
Ethan stood.
"Margaret has been hiding something."
"Apparently everyone you know has been hiding something."
He gave me an exhausted look.
I put the bracelet inside my handbag.
"Let's find Margaret."
He hesitated.
"She's staying at the mansion."
Of course she was.
The woman who'd helped produce Ethan's pregnant fiancée had apparently moved in with the furniture.
I looked at my former husband.
"How many Monroes are you planning to support?"
He didn't smile.
"Her house was foreclosed on."
That surprised me.
Vanessa had arrived wearing designer clothes and talking about destiny.
I'd assumed her family still possessed at least enough money to maintain appearances.
Apparently not.
"Does Vanessa know?"
"She does now."
"And?"
"She cried."
I looked toward the trunk.
"Maybe she's not only marrying you for love."
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"That's what you did."
"Yes," I replied. "And I never lied about it."
He looked away.
That was the difference between us.
I'd entered our marriage with an honest motive.
Ethan had accepted it because he thought honesty without affection would protect him.
But Vanessa offered him affection.
And he'd stopped asking questions.
By late afternoon, we were back at the mansion.
Margaret was sitting in the breakfast room.
Vanessa stood behind her, looking miserable.
I placed Eleanor's bracelet on the table.
Margaret's face changed immediately.
"Where did you get that?"
"My mother."
She reached toward it.
I moved it away.
"Not yet."
Ethan sat opposite her.
"My mother wrote your name inside this bracelet."
Margaret stared at him.
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"Because Eleanor promised she'd destroyed everything."
The room fell silent.
Vanessa gripped the back of a chair.
"Mom, don't."
Margaret shut her eyes.
"Your mother was trying to protect someone, Ethan."
"Who?"
Margaret looked at me.
"Claire."
I felt cold.
"Why?"
"Because your father believed Linda Bennett had stolen something from him."
"What?"
Margaret hesitated.
"His daughter."
Ethan stood.
"That's impossible."
Margaret looked at him with exhausted eyes.
"Richard Blackwood had a daughter he never acknowledged."
I laughed once.
It sounded strange even to me.
"You're not suggesting I'm his daughter."
"No," Margaret said quickly. "You're not."
Ethan exhaled.
I hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath.
"Then who?" he demanded.
Margaret looked toward Vanessa.
And suddenly the room seemed to shrink.
Vanessa shook her head.
"Mom."
Margaret's expression crumpled.
"I'm sorry."
Ethan stepped backward.
"No."
Vanessa began crying.
"Ethan, please let me explain."
He stared at her.
His first love.
His future wife.
The woman carrying a baby he'd proudly claimed.
"You're my sister?"
Vanessa shook her head desperately.
"No. That's not what she means."
Margaret covered her face.
"I never said Vanessa was Richard's daughter."
"Then who?" Ethan roared.
I stepped between them.
"Enough. You're frightening her."
Vanessa was shaking.
For once, the anger in Ethan's voice wasn't directed at someone who deserved it.
It was directed at a woman trapped in a complicated history.
Margaret finally spoke.
"Eleanor had a daughter."
Ethan went still.
"A daughter?"
"Before she married Richard."
He sat down slowly.
"My mother had another child?"
Margaret nodded.
"She gave birth at nineteen. Her family forced her to surrender the baby."
Ethan stared at the bracelet.
"Why didn't she tell me?"
"Because Richard knew."
"And?"
"He used it against her."
There was a painful silence.
I thought about the missing child.
The bracelet.
The photograph.
My mother carrying a trunk out of a burning warehouse.
"Did Eleanor find her daughter?" I asked.
Margaret nodded.
"Yes."
"Where?"
Margaret looked toward the window.
"She was living with a family in Wisconsin."
"Did Eleanor bring her home?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Richard threatened to destroy the girl's adoptive family."
Ethan lowered his head.
I could almost see his memories rearranging themselves.
His mother had been kind.
His father had been feared.
And he'd spent years believing his father had protected the family.
Now the evidence suggested that Richard had hurt it.
"Who was the daughter?" Ethan asked.
Margaret swallowed.
"Her adoptive name was Rebecca Hale."
The name meant nothing to me.
But Vanessa gasped.
Ethan noticed.
"What?"
Vanessa held the chair tightly.
"Rebecca Hale worked for Daniel's father."
"Doing what?"
"Medical billing. Recordkeeping. She helped at the warehouse office."
I stared at her.
"Was she there during the fire?"
Vanessa nodded.
"And what happened to her?"
Margaret began to cry.
"That's the part nobody ever told me."
Vanessa whispered, "I know."
Every head turned.
She looked at Ethan.
Then at me.
"Rebecca didn't disappear."
Her voice broke.
"She was taken away."
"By whom?" Ethan asked.
Vanessa swallowed.
"By the man who started the warehouse fire."
"Who?"
She looked down at her pregnancy.
For a terrible moment, I thought she wasn't going to answer.
Then she whispered, "Daniel."
Ethan stared at her.
"Daniel started the fire?"
Vanessa nodded.
"But he didn't do it to kill anyone."
She reached into her handbag and produced an old hospital identification bracelet.
The name printed on the faded plastic was barely visible.
BABY GIRL HALE.
I felt my pulse quicken.
Vanessa placed the bracelet beside Eleanor's gold one.
Then she said the words that changed everything.
"Rebecca was pregnant when she disappeared."
May you like
She looked at Ethan.
"And the baby she delivered seventeen years ago is still alive."
