Chapter 3 - The Night Their Father Chose One Son
Nathaniel stared at Mason.
"Say that again."
Mason remained seated on the edge of the hospital bed.
His hands were shaking.
"Father thought you were going to expose the family. He ordered Caleb to make sure you never reached Denver."
Nathaniel felt something cold settle in his chest.
Fifteen years ago, he had barely survived a highway collision outside Vail.
His truck had been forced off an icy mountain road.
The police called it an accident.
Caleb had found him.
Caleb had carried him through the snow.
For fifteen years, Nathaniel had believed Caleb saved his life.
Now Mason was telling him Caleb had been sent to end it.
"Why didn't he finish the job?"
"I don't know," Mason admitted. "Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he realized Father was losing control. But I heard the order."
Nathaniel remembered the hospital room.
He remembered waking with broken ribs and seeing Caleb seated beside his bed.
Caleb had said, "Your father sent me."
At the time, Nathaniel thought those words meant love.
Now he wasn't sure what they meant.
He turned toward the stairs.
Mason struggled to stand.
"I'll come."
"No. You're barely walking."
"Rachel is in danger because I involved her. I'm not staying here."
Nathaniel hesitated.
Then he offered his arm.
For the first time in fifteen years, the brothers descended the staircase together.
The music downstairs had stopped.
The Christmas guests were gathered near the foyer, whispering beneath the enormous chandelier.
Nathaniel spotted Rachel immediately.
She sat on a leather bench between two security guards.
Her coat had fallen open. Her hands were pinned behind her back with plastic restraints.
Eleanor stood beside the fireplace, pale and furious.
Caleb remained near the library entrance.
Nathaniel's voice cut across the room.
"Take those restraints off her."
Caleb turned.
"Boss, she attacked your mother."
"Take them off."
"She had scissors."
"Caleb."
Something in Nathaniel's expression made the guards obey.
Rachel rubbed her wrists.
When she saw Mason beside Nathaniel, she went completely still.
"Oh, thank God," she whispered.
Nathaniel turned toward her.
"You know him?"
Rachel nodded.
"Your father asked me to help him."
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Nathaniel faced his mother.
"Why did you lie about the watch?"
She looked at Mason.
For one brief moment, she seemed less like the formidable Eleanor Lancaster and more like an exhausted old woman.
"Because I needed Rachel out of this house."
"Why?"
"Because she wouldn't stop asking questions."
"About Father?"
"About things that happened before she was born."
Nathaniel stepped closer.
"You threatened her brother."
Eleanor's face tightened.
"I never intended to hurt Daniel."
"But you used him."
"I wanted her to leave."
Rachel rose from the bench.
"You knew how much my brother needed that surgery. You looked me in the eye and told me you could make sure he never got it."
Eleanor couldn't meet her gaze.
"Yes."
The admission shocked Nathaniel more than another denial would have.
Eleanor slowly placed Rachel's bracelet on the mantel.
A small silver charm hung from the broken cord.
"I was trying to find what Thomas put inside this."
Rachel reached for it.
Eleanor stepped aside.
"Your father has been giving things away," she told Nathaniel. "Notes. Photographs. Pieces of our past. He doesn't understand what they're going to do to this family."
Mason spoke.
"He understands perfectly."
Eleanor looked at him.
"You promised you would stay upstairs."
"And you promised Father nobody would hurt Rachel."
Caleb took a step toward the door.
Nathaniel noticed.
"Stay where you are."
Caleb stopped.
"Something wrong, boss?"
"Plenty."
Nathaniel turned to his guards.
"Take the guests to the east reception room. Arrange cars for anyone who wants to leave."
One older gentleman protested.
Nathaniel looked at him.
"Christmas is over. Go home."
Within minutes, the foyer began to empty.
Rachel stood beside the fireplace, examining her bracelet.
Nathaniel approached.
"Your father gave that to you?"
"No. It belonged to my mother."
Rachel touched the silver charm.
"She died when I was eighteen. Daniel was ten."
Eleanor's expression changed.
"Your mother's name?"
"Margaret Collins."
The room became very quiet.
Eleanor gripped the mantel.
"Margaret worked for our foundation."
Rachel looked up.
"How do you know that?"
Eleanor didn't answer.
Mason did.
"Because Margaret Collins was the first person who discovered what was happening to the patients."
Rachel turned toward him.
"My mother was a nurse."
"She was also a witness."
Caleb's face remained controlled.
But Nathaniel saw his jaw tighten.
"Enough," Caleb said. "Mason's been sick for years. We shouldn't be treating every story he tells as evidence."
Nathaniel looked at him.
"Then you won't mind answering a question."
"Of course not."
"Why did Dr. Vale tell me you two had never worked together?"
Caleb paused.
"Maybe he forgot."
"For fifteen years?"
"People forget things."
Nathaniel took out the photograph.
"Not this."
Caleb looked at it.
For the first time that night, he seemed genuinely surprised.
"Where did you get that?"
"Does it matter?"
"It matters if someone is trying to manipulate you."
Mason gave a bitter laugh.
"That's rich coming from you."
Nathaniel raised one hand.
"Rachel, I need you to tell me exactly what happened in Father's bedroom."
Rachel hesitated.
Then she explained.
Thomas had been agitated all afternoon.
He kept pointing toward the drawer beside his bed.
When Rachel opened it, she found a small blue notebook.
Inside were names, dates, and amounts of money.
Thomas tried to write a message.
But Eleanor came in before he finished.
"She took the notebook," Rachel said. "Then she grabbed my wrist."
Eleanor nodded reluctantly.
"Yes."
"Where is it now?" Nathaniel asked.
Eleanor glanced at Caleb.
That single glance was enough.
Nathaniel turned.
"Caleb."
Caleb spread his hands.
"I don't have any notebook."
Eleanor's voice cracked.
"I gave it to you yesterday."
"I told you I would keep it safe."
"Where?"
Caleb looked at Nathaniel.
"Boss, this family has enemies. You know that. Your father kept records that could destroy everything you've built."
Nathaniel stepped forward.
"You mean records that could destroy you."
Caleb's expression hardened.
"I spent twenty years keeping this family alive."
"And you expect that to excuse anything?"
"No."
Caleb looked toward Rachel.
"But you have no idea what your father did to keep his sons alive."
The words stopped Nathaniel.
Mason's face changed.
Caleb continued.
"Ask him why his brother spent fifteen years in hiding. Ask him what happened at the rehabilitation clinic. Ask him why Margaret Collins never came home from her last night shift."
Rachel stumbled backward.
"My mother died in a car accident."
Caleb looked genuinely sorry.
"That's what they told you."
Nathaniel stepped between them.
"You're finished."
He ordered the guards to secure Caleb's phone and prevent him from leaving.
But Caleb didn't resist.
Instead, he looked toward Eleanor.
"Tell them about the Christmas photograph."
Eleanor's eyes filled with tears.
Rachel whispered, "What photograph?"
Eleanor slowly approached the fireplace.
She removed an old framed picture from behind a newer family portrait.
It showed Thomas, Eleanor, Nathaniel, Mason, and a smiling young nurse holding a little girl in a red winter coat.
Rachel recognized her mother's face.
She also recognized the child.
It was herself.
But someone had written a name across the back.
May you like
Not Rachel.
"ELIZABETH LANCASTER."
