Chapter 5 - THE SISTER IN THE GRAVE
The Mercer Hotel was eleven minutes away.
Dominic reached it in seven.
Room 804 was empty.
The door had been forced.
A lamp lay shattered on the carpet.
Blood marked the bathroom sink.
Not much.
Emma saw Dominic touch it with two fingers.
Still wet.
Peter Walsh checked the adjoining room.
“Nothing.”
Dominic examined the floor.
A black high-heeled shoe lay near the window.
Vanessa’s.
Emma recognized it from dinner.
Dominic looked at Peter.
“How long have you been working with her?”
“Three years.”
“You had three years to tell me.”
“She begged me not to.”
“And you take orders from my sister?”
“I take orders from people trying to stay alive.”
Dominic turned.
“Careful.”
Peter didn't flinch.
“You think you're angry because people kept secrets from you. You're really angry because they didn't trust you with them.”
Dominic crossed the room.
For a moment Emma thought he would hit him.
Instead he stopped inches away.
“Give me one reason.”
“One reason for what?”
“One reason not to throw you through that window.”
Peter nodded toward Emma.
“She needs you thinking.”
Dominic said nothing.
Emma almost smiled despite herself.
Peter continued.
“Vanessa spent three years pretending to cooperate with the Covenant faction hunting Rachel.”
“Why?”
“To keep them from Lily.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
“Explain.”
“After the Hartford crash, whoever orchestrated it realized Rachel survived.”
“How?”
“Her body wasn't in the car.”
“But somebody was.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Peter looked toward the door.
“We need somewhere secure.”
Dominic’s voice turned flat.
“Who was in the car?”
Peter answered.
“A woman named Marianne Cross.”
Rachel had never mentioned her.
Emma asked, “Who was she?”
“Claire Bennett’s roommate.”
Dominic frowned.
“Why was Claire’s roommate wearing Rachel’s coat?”
“Because Claire put her there.”
The room went silent.
Peter continued.
“Claire knew Rachel planned to switch vehicles. She used it.”
Dominic began fitting the pieces together.
“Rachel thought Claire took her car.”
“Yes.”
“But Claire sent Marianne instead.”
“Yes.”
“And caused the crash.”
Peter nodded.
“Most likely.”
“Why?”
“To fake Claire’s death too.”
Emma frowned.
“But everyone thought Rachel died.”
“Exactly.”
Peter looked at Dominic.
“One dead woman. Two missing sisters. And nobody asking why Claire Bennett disappeared the same night.”
Dominic turned toward the rain-streaked window.
“Rachel thought Claire died?”
“Yes.”
“And Claire has spent four years letting her believe it.”
“Yes.”
Emma remembered the photograph.
Rachel.
Vanessa.
A young boy.
Yesterday’s date.
“Who is the boy?”
Peter went quiet.
Dominic turned.
“The photograph.”
“I know.”
“Who is he?”
Peter looked uncomfortable.
“That is something Vanessa wanted to tell you herself.”
“She isn't here.”
“Dominic—”
“Who is the boy?”
Peter sighed.
“His name is Noah.”
Dominic waited.
“He's twelve.”
“Whose son?”
“Claire’s.”
Emma saw relief flash across Dominic’s face.
Then vanish.
Peter finished:
“And probably your father's.”
Dominic stared at him.
“My father died seventeen years ago.”
“I know.”
“Noah is twelve.”
“I know.”
“Then that is biologically impossible.”
Peter rubbed his face.
“I meant your father in law. Samuel Bennett.”
Dominic frowned.
Emma said softly:
“That would make Noah Rachel and Claire’s half brother.”
“Yes.”
“And Vanessa’s half brother too.”
Peter nodded.
Dominic looked irritated.
“So everyone in this story is related except me.”
Emma almost laughed.
Wrong time.
But the corner of Dominic’s mouth moved.
Only slightly.
Peter continued.
“Noah is important because Samuel left the final Covenant account in trust to his youngest biological child.”
Dominic understood.
“The money.”
“A little over four hundred million dollars.”
Emma stared.
Peter said, “Money that multiple families believed belonged to them.”
“And Claire wants it.”
“Yes.”
“Rachel?”
“No.”
“Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Then why pose for a photograph together?”
Peter looked surprised.
“What photograph?”
Dominic showed him.
Peter stared at it.
Then shook his head.
“This isn't yesterday.”
“The date says yesterday.”
“The date is handwritten.”
“So?”
Peter pointed at Noah.
“Look at his left arm.”
Emma leaned closer.
A cast.
Peter said, “Noah broke his arm last winter.”
Dominic narrowed his eyes.
“Meaning?”
“This photo is at least nine months old.”
Emma felt the trick reveal itself.
The photograph had been planted to make Dominic believe Rachel and Vanessa were secretly meeting.
Someone was engineering distrust.
Again.
Dominic said, “Claire.”
“Probably.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Dominic’s men raised their weapons.
A woman staggered through the open door.
Vanessa.
Her hair was wet.
Barefoot.
Blood stained one sleeve.
Dominic crossed the room.
“What happened?”
Vanessa tried to speak.
Then collapsed.
He caught her.
“Vanessa.”
Her eyes fluttered.
“They took Noah.”
Peter swore.
Dominic lifted her and carried her to the couch.
Emma found towels.
Vanessa’s wound was shallow—a slice across her upper arm.
Dominic pressed a towel against it.
“Where?”
“Garage.”
“Who?”
“Claire’s people.”
“Did you see her?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“Peter, tell him.”
“I did.”
“Everything?”
“Most of it.”
She looked at Dominic.
“You hate me.”
He stared at her.
“I haven't decided.”
“I deserved that.”
“You threatened Emma.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“I was trying to scare her away.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas Reed’s daughter showing up in this house after four years was not a coincidence.”
Emma folded her arms.
“You could have told me.”
“I didn't trust you.”
“You investigated me.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Your agency.”
Emma’s eyes narrowed.
“You placed me?”
“No.”
Vanessa looked frightened.
“Claire did.”
Silence.
Dominic asked, “How do you know?”
“Because the agency doesn't exist.”
Emma froze.
“What?”
“Hawthorne Domestic Placement was created eleven months ago. Two employees. Both fake identities.”
Emma felt stupid.
All the paperwork.
The interviews.
The payroll deposits.
Everything had looked legitimate.
Vanessa whispered:
“You weren't hired to spy on Dominic.”
“Then why?”
“To find something your father hid.”
Emma’s throat tightened.
“My father?”
“After Hartford, Thomas Reed picked up something Rachel dropped in his car.”
Dominic looked at Emma.
“The ledger?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.”
“What?”
“A key.”
Emma touched the ring hanging around her neck.
Her father’s wedding band.
Dominic noticed the movement.
“What?”
Emma looked at the gold ring.
“My father gave me this after his stroke.”
Vanessa stared.
“That isn't his wedding ring.”
Emma frowned.
“Yes, it is.”
“No.”
“How would you know?”
Vanessa reached beneath her blouse and pulled out a thin chain.
A nearly identical gold band hung from it.
Emma went still.
Vanessa said:
“Your father gave me his wedding ring in Hartford.”
“Why?”
“He said Rachel told him to.”
Emma stared at the ring around Vanessa’s neck.
“Then what am I wearing?”
Dominic took Emma’s ring carefully.
He examined the interior.
There was an engraving.
T.R. + M.R.
Thomas Reed and Margaret Reed.
Her parents’ initials.
But Dominic pressed a fingernail against the seam.
A tiny section opened.
Inside was a micro key.
Emma stopped breathing.
Peter whispered:
“That must be it.”
Dominic removed it.
“What does it open?”
Vanessa sat up.
“A safe-deposit box.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Emma remembered something.
Her father’s stroke had damaged words, but not memories.
He repeatedly said one strange phrase when tired.
Blue door.
She had assumed it meant their old house.
“Blue door.”
Everyone looked at her.
“My father says it sometimes.”
Vanessa frowned.
“Blue door?”
Emma nodded.
“Over and over. ‘Blue door. Don't lose the blue door.’”
Peter’s face changed.
“I know what that means.”
Dominic turned.
Peter said:
“St. Matthew's Church in Hartford.”
“The church where Thomas took Rachel?”
“Yes.”
“What about it?”
“The old rectory has blue doors.”
Dominic looked at the tiny key.
Before anyone could say more, Vanessa’s phone buzzed.
A message appeared.
A video.
Noah sat tied to a chair.
Behind him stood a woman.
Dark hair.
Rachel’s eyes.
Rachel’s face.
But harder.
Colder.
Claire Bennett.
She looked directly into the camera.
“Hello, Vanessa.”
Vanessa stopped breathing.
Claire smiled.
“Bring me the key.”
Then Noah screamed.
Not from pain.
From fear.
Because someone had entered the room behind Claire.
A man in a dark suit.
Dominic recognized him instantly.
May you like
His unconscious security chief.
Caleb Ross.
