Chapter 4 - THE BOY WITH HIS FATHER'S FACE
“Daniel Vale?”
Adrian said the name as if it might break apart in his mouth.
Helen nodded.
“That was what he told Eli.”
Owen moved closer to the phone.
“The boy looks seventeen.”
“Sixteen,” Helen corrected. “He told my son he turned sixteen in April.”
Adrian stared at the photograph.
“My father died seventeen years ago.”
Grant folded his arms.
“Then the timeline is possible.”
Mara looked between them.
“What timeline?”
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
Finally, he said, “My father had an affair shortly before he died. I found letters after the funeral, but I never knew whether the woman had a child.”
“Who was she?”
“Her name was Rebecca Shaw.”
Helen dropped her grocery bag.
A glass jar shattered on the floor.
Everyone turned.
“Helen?”
She covered her mouth.
“Rebecca Shaw was my sister.”
The room went silent.
Adrian stood so suddenly his chair scraped backward.
“Your sister?”
Helen nodded.
“She worked for your father when she was young. When she became pregnant, she moved to Vermont.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died eight years ago. Pneumonia that became complicated because she delayed treatment.”
Adrian looked sick.
“And Daniel?”
Helen shook her head.
“Rebecca never told us who his father was. She said naming him would put him in danger.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don't know.”
Mara watched Helen struggle with tears.
“My sister left Daniel with a family she trusted. I tried finding him after she died, but the address was no longer current.”
Adrian turned toward Owen.
“Get Eli.”
Owen hesitated.
“Sir, we still haven't established—”
“Bring him here. With his mother.”
Ten minutes later, Eli entered the lounge.
His wrists were free.
Someone had given him clean clothes and a sandwich.
He looked younger without the torn airport vest.
Helen hurried forward and hugged him.
“Mom.”
She held him tightly.
“Don't ever frighten me like that again.”
Eli started crying.
“I didn't know what else to do.”
“I know, baby.”
Adrian waited.
Then he crouched slightly so he wasn't towering over the boy.
“Eli, I need you to tell me about Daniel.”
Eli wiped his face.
“He was in a black car. A man was driving.”
“The man with the watch?” Adrian asked.
“Yes.”
“Did Daniel speak?”
“Not much.”
“What did he say?”
Eli looked at Mara.
“He said the lady in the big coat was nice.”
Mara blinked.
“He knows me?”
Eli nodded.
“He said you helped him once.”
“I've never met anyone named Daniel.”
“He said you bought him breakfast.”
Something shifted in Mara's memory.
Three months earlier, she'd stopped at a roadside diner after a doctor's appointment.
A thin teenage boy had been sitting outside in the rain.
She'd bought him pancakes and hot chocolate.
When she asked where he lived, he'd shrugged.
She'd given him twenty dollars.
“He had a gray backpack,” she whispered.
Eli nodded.
“And a ripped blue sneaker.”
“Yes.”
Adrian stared at her.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't think feeding a hungry boy required permission.”
The answer stung.
He looked away.
Eli continued.
“The man said Daniel needed help. He said putting the tracker on the plane would make someone come.”
“What someone?”
Eli shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Mara moved closer.
“Did he threaten your mother?”
Eli's lip trembled.
“He showed me a picture of her getting off the bus.”
Helen held his shoulder.
Adrian straightened.
“Eli, you're not in trouble for telling us the truth.”
Owen looked uncomfortable.
Adrian noticed.
“And what happened on that runway should never have happened.”
It was the first time Mara had heard him openly criticize his own men.
Owen lowered his eyes.
“I'm sorry, Mrs. Vale.”
Mara looked at Eli.
“Apologize to him.”
Owen hesitated.
Then he faced the boy.
“I was wrong to threaten you. I'm sorry.”
Eli nodded without speaking.
Adrian turned to Grant.
“Find the car.”
Grant already had his tablet open.
“Airfield cameras caught part of the license plate.”
He displayed a blurry image.
Black sedan.
New York registration.
A small dent in the rear bumper.
Adrian leaned forward.
“That's not a stranger's car.”
Grant frowned.
“You recognize it?”
Adrian nodded.
“It belongs to our family trust.”
Mara stared at him.
“The estate?”
“No. A different property.”
Grant checked the plate.
His expression changed.
“Adrian, this vehicle was assigned to your father's former accountant.”
Adrian whispered a name.
“Walter Bell.”
Owen looked stunned.
“Walter's dead.”
“Apparently, a lot of people connected to my family are.”
Mara stepped forward.
“Who is Walter Bell?”
Adrian looked at the silver bracelet.
“The man who handled everything after my father died.”
“Everything?”
“Property transfers. Accounts. Guardianship arrangements.”
Mara understood.
“Including Daniel.”
“Possibly.”
Grant examined another image.
“There's something else.”
He enlarged the driver's side window.
The driver wore a gray suit.
His face was hidden.
But a silver pocket watch hung from the dashboard.
Adrian stared.
“My father gave Walter that watch.”
Mara frowned.
“Why would an accountant threaten a pregnant woman?”
Nobody answered.
Then Helen whispered, “Because Daniel's mother left something behind.”
She reached into her bag again.
This time she produced a small brown envelope.
“My sister gave me this before she died. She said if anyone ever came asking about her son, I should open it.”
“Why didn't you?” Adrian asked.
“Because I promised her I wouldn't unless Daniel was in danger.”
Her hands shook as she opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Rebecca Shaw stood beside Adrian's father outside a country house.
Between them was a little girl wearing a blue dress.
A girl with dark hair and a silver star bracelet.
Adrian gripped the table.
“Rose.”
Mara stared at the photograph.
Rose looked older than eight.
At least fourteen.
Then she noticed the date printed along the bottom.
October 1999.
Adrian had been told Rose died in 1993.
“She was alive,” Mara whispered.
Adrian couldn't speak.
Helen turned over the photograph.
On the back, Rebecca had written:
Rose knows what happened to the baby. Walter made her promise never to tell Adrian.
Beneath that sentence was a Vermont address.
And one final line.
If Adrian ever finds this, tell him his sister didn't abandon him. She was protecting his first child.
Mara looked up slowly.
“Adrian.”
His face had gone pale.
“Your first child?”
Adrian shook his head.
“I don't have a child.”
But Grant was staring at the photograph.
And what he said next changed everything.
“Adrian, I think I know why Rose disappeared.”
He pointed toward the house behind Rebecca.
“That's the property where your father sent you after the accident.”
Mara turned.
“What accident?”
May you like
Adrian's voice became hollow.
“The accident that took six months of my memory.”
