Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN IN THE CHILD'S DRAWING
“Caleb knew about Evelyn?”
Rachel stared at the drawing.
Damien moved closer.
The woman in the picture wore a blue coat and a gold necklace. Caleb had colored one sleeve darker than the other.
Rachel touched the page.
“He never told me about this.”
Vanessa looked over her shoulder.
“Who is she?”
Rachel shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Damien examined the drawing.
Caleb had written another word near the bottom, so small it was almost hidden beneath the woman's shoes.
Library.
“Does Caleb go to a library after therapy?” Damien asked.
Rachel nodded.
“Sometimes. There's a little public library two blocks from the clinic. He likes the graphic novels.”
“Does he go alone?”
“No. A therapist walks him there when I work late.”
Damien turned toward Anthony.
“Ask Detective Bennett to preserve the library's security footage.”
Anthony was already reaching for his phone.
Vanessa remained near the doorway.
She looked exhausted, but Damien had little sympathy left.
“You're staying here until the police finish questioning you.”
“Am I your prisoner?”
“No. You can leave with the detectives whenever they want to interview you.”
Vanessa studied his face.
“Our engagement is over, isn't it?”
Damien glanced at Rachel, then at Caleb's drawing.
“Yes.”
Vanessa nodded slowly.
She didn't argue.
Instead, she removed the diamond engagement ring and placed it on the desk.
“I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”
Rachel looked at her injured knee.
“Wanting isn't the same as doing.”
Vanessa lowered her head.
For once, she had no answer.
An hour later, Detective Sarah Bennett arrived at the mansion.
She was a practical woman in her late forties, with tired eyes and a reputation for refusing favors from powerful people.
She didn't seem impressed by Damien's money.
“You understand that if your cousin committed kidnapping, your family connections won't shield him from prosecution?”
“They shouldn't,” Damien replied.
“Good.”
She turned to Rachel.
“Mrs. Foster, we found Caleb's jacket at the printing company. There's no evidence he was physically injured there.”
Rachel exhaled shakily.
“But you don't know where he is.”
“Not yet.”
The detective placed a photograph on the table.
It showed the woman from Caleb's drawing.
She wore a blue wool coat and carried a canvas grocery bag.
Rachel leaned forward.
“I've seen her.”
“Where?”
“At the clinic.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago. She was sitting outside when Caleb came out.”
Detective Bennett nodded.
“We've identified her as Margaret Ellis, sixty-six. She volunteers at the library and rents an apartment in West Hartford.”
Damien studied the photograph.
Something about the woman's face bothered him.
Her eyes were familiar.
“Does she have any connection to Michael?”
“We're investigating.”
Rachel touched the picture.
“She spoke to Caleb in sign language.”
“Did that strike you as unusual?”
“At the time, no. I thought she was being kind.”
The detective's expression tightened.
“Mrs. Ellis taught sign language at a children's hospital before she retired.”
Rachel looked at her.
“Then why is Michael looking for her?”
The detective didn't answer immediately.
“Because she may have worked with an infant patient in 1998.”
Damien glanced at the birth certificate.
“Evelyn's daughter?”
“Possibly.”
Rachel's heart seemed to stop.
“You think she knows what happened to my sister?”
“We think she knows more than she's told anyone.”
Damien looked at Anthony.
“Get the car.”
Detective Bennett raised a hand.
“No. We don't rush over and frighten a potential witness. My officers are already locating her.”
Damien reluctantly sat down.
He hated waiting.
For years, he had built his reputation on being the man who acted before anyone else.
But Caleb wasn't a shipment, a business rival, or a disputed property.
He was a child.
Damien knew that one reckless move could make Michael panic.
Rachel seemed to understand the same thing.
She looked at Damien.
“Can you do something for me?”
“Anything reasonable.”
“Find his hearing aids.”
Damien frowned.
“Rachel—”
“Michael took them. Caleb can't understand people if they're speaking behind him. He gets headaches from trying to read lips all day.”
Her eyes filled.
“He'll be scared enough already.”
Damien nodded.
“I'll have replacements ready.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Not just replacements. His own ones. They're blue, with tiny yellow stars.”
Damien felt an unfamiliar ache.
Amid a family fortune worth millions, she was worried about two pieces of blue plastic decorated with stars.
And she was right.
Those mattered more than the money.
Later that afternoon, Anthony returned with something from Caleb's backpack.
A small paper ticket.
It had been folded beneath the lining of a pencil pouch.
The front displayed the logo of the Hartford Historical Society.
The back carried a handwritten date.
October 9 — 4:30 PM.
Below it were three words:
Bring the photograph.
Damien checked his watch.
It was nearly three.
“Someone arranged to meet Caleb today.”
Rachel stared at the ticket.
“Margaret?”
“Maybe.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Wait.”
Everyone turned.
She pointed at the handwriting.
“I know that writing.”
Damien frowned.
“Whose?”
“Evelyn's.”
Rachel shook her head.
“That's impossible.”
Vanessa looked at her.
“My mother used to write notes on the inside of my lunchbox. She made the number nine with a little loop at the bottom.”
She showed them the ticket.
The handwriting matched that unusual detail.
Rachel's hands began trembling.
“If Evelyn wrote it,” she whispered, “then she's alive.”
Detective Bennett took the ticket.
“We'll verify it. Nobody goes to the historical society without police coordination.”
Damien nodded.
But Rachel looked unconvinced.
“Caleb might be there.”
“We're going to protect him,” the detective said.
The next hour moved painfully slowly.
Officers checked the historical society building while Anthony reviewed the courthouse photograph found beneath the lockbox.
He enlarged the image on Damien's computer.
Vincent Russo stood on the courthouse steps.
Beside him was a young Evelyn Bennett.
The third figure had been partially obscured by a dark coat.
Anthony adjusted the contrast.
Then Damien recognized the man's face.
Daniel Mercer.
The attorney who had called him.
But Mercer wasn't standing beside Vincent.
He was holding Evelyn's wrist.
And his expression wasn't protective.
It was threatening.
Rachel covered her mouth.
“That man hurt my sister.”
Before Damien could speak, Detective Bennett received a message from officers at the historical society.
They'd found a woman waiting in the meeting room.
She had brought an old photograph.
She claimed to be Evelyn Bennett.
Rachel started crying.
Damien stood.
“Where's Caleb?”
The detective listened to the officer's report.
Her face became serious.
“The woman says she knows where Michael has him.”
“Then why hasn't she told you?”
May you like
Detective Bennett looked directly at Damien.
“Because she says she'll only speak after you explain what happened to the child Vincent Russo tried to bury.”
