Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN IN THE DARK
For one second, nobody moved.
Eli’s cry cut through the darkness.
Maeve pulled him against her chest and backed toward the wall.
Adrian stepped in front of them.
“Stay behind me.”
The whisper came again.
“Don’t let him see that picture.”
Adrian’s voice went cold.
“Celeste.”
Silence.
Then the emergency lights flickered on.
Dim amber strips along the baseboards illuminated the hallway.
Celeste stood ten feet away.
Her expensive cream dress was torn near one shoulder. Rain darkened her hair. One hand rested against the wall as if she had run farther than Maeve could imagine.
Adrian stared at her.
“Security said you left.”
“I did.”
“Then why are you back?”
Her eyes went to Maeve’s phone.
“Because Walter Sloane has Hannah.”
Maeve felt the floor drop beneath her.
“You knew?”
Celeste took one step forward.
Adrian moved between them.
“Stop.”
She stopped.
“I didn’t take Hannah.”
“You knew she was gone.”
“I knew who took her.”
“Your father’s attorney,” Maeve said.
Celeste gave a humorless laugh.
“Your father’s everything.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“What does that mean?”
Celeste looked toward the dark staircase.
“Walter wasn’t just Malcolm Vale’s lawyer. He fixed problems. Witnesses. Money. People who knew things they weren’t supposed to know.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“You expect me to believe you suddenly developed a conscience?”
“No.”
Her answer surprised him.
“You should believe I’m terrified.”
Maeve looked down at Eli.
His fever-warm cheek rested against her collarbone.
Six months old.
Six months of hiding him.
And somehow these people had been discussing him before Adrian even knew he existed.
“Why did you come to my apartment?” Maeve asked.
Celeste’s face tightened.
“Because Walter told me to.”
Maeve stared at her.
“You showed me Daniel’s picture.”
“Yes.”
“You threatened me with Adrian’s name.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Celeste looked at Eli.
“To make you leave Boston.”
The words hit harder than an insult.
“You framed me at work.”
“I tried to get you fired.”
“The petty cash?”
“Yes.”
“The silverware?”
“Yes.”
Maeve’s eyes burned.
“You could have ruined my life.”
“I know.”
“You almost did.”
Celeste didn’t defend herself.
That unsettled Maeve more than denial would have.
Adrian stepped closer.
“Why was Maeve so important?”
Celeste closed her eyes briefly.
“Because Walter knew Julian had been seeing her.”
Maeve’s breath caught.
“Before Daniel disappeared?”
“Before you ever met him.”
The hallway went silent.
Maeve shook her head.
“No.”
Celeste looked at her with something almost like pity.
“You think meeting Daniel Reed was an accident.”
“It was.”
“He came into the restaurant where I worked.”
“Yes.”
“He asked me out three weeks later.”
“Yes.”
Celeste swallowed.
“He had been watching you for almost two months.”
Maeve went very still.
Adrian glanced at her.
“Maeve—”
“Don’t.”
She wasn’t sure which man she meant.
Adrian.
Julian.
Daniel.
Maybe all of them.
The phone in her hand still showed the frozen video frame.
Julian turning toward a hidden camera.
The photograph halfway out of his coat.
Adrian took the phone.
“Can we recover the rest?”
“The power interruption stopped the video,” Maeve said.
“No.”
Celeste’s voice sharpened.
“That file wasn’t interrupted.”
Adrian looked at her.
“What?”
“It ends there on purpose.”
Maeve frowned.
Celeste pointed toward the screen.
“Julian never showed the photograph digitally. He knew Walter monitored anything that could be copied.”
“Then where is the photograph?” Adrian asked.
Celeste said nothing.
Adrian’s voice lowered.
“Where?”
“In the yellow envelope.”
Maeve felt sick.
The envelope Hannah had carried into the black SUV.
Adrian looked toward the security cameras.
“Why would Julian trust my father’s attorney with it?”
“He didn’t.”
Celeste hugged her arms around herself.
“He trusted Hannah.”
Maeve stared.
“Hannah?”
“She wasn’t stealing the envelope.”
A sound came from downstairs.
A door opening.
Adrian immediately turned.
Footsteps entered the foyer.
Maeve’s heart jumped.
“Hannah?”
A young voice called weakly.
“Maeve?”
Maeve almost ran.
Adrian caught her arm.
“Wait.”
Then Hannah appeared at the end of the hall.
Her face was blotchy from crying.
Her winter coat hung crookedly from one shoulder.
But she was alone.
Maeve rushed to her.
“Oh my God.”
Hannah wrapped both arms around Maeve and Eli.
“I’m sorry.”
Maeve held her tightly.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Walter?”
Hannah nodded.
“He told me I had to come with him because somebody was watching the house.”
Adrian’s gaze hardened.
“Where is he?”
“Outside.”
Every muscle in Adrian’s body seemed to lock.
Hannah hurried on.
“He said he wouldn’t come in unless you allowed it.”
Celeste whispered, “Don’t.”
Adrian looked at her.
“He brought Hannah back.”
“That doesn’t make him safe.”
“No.”
Adrian took Maeve’s phone and handed it to his security chief, who had appeared from the stairwell.
“Bring Sloane inside. Search him first.”
Five minutes later, Walter Sloane entered the sitting room.
He was in his late sixties, broad-shouldered despite his age, wearing a rain-soaked charcoal overcoat.
He looked first at Adrian.
Then Maeve.
Then Eli.
His face lost color.
“So Julian was right.”
Maeve’s arms tightened.
“About what?”
Walter removed his glasses.
“The birthmark.”
Adrian took one slow step toward him.
“You knew my brother was alive.”
Walter met his eyes.
“Yes.”
Adrian struck him.
Not wildly.
One hard punch.
Walter staggered into a chair.
Celeste flinched.
Maeve did not.
Adrian stood over the older man.
“I buried Julian.”
Walter wiped blood from his lip.
“I know.”
“I stood beside his grave.”
“I know.”
“My mother died believing she had lost her son.”
Pain moved across Walter’s face.
“I know that too.”
“Then tell me why I shouldn’t break every bone in your body.”
“Because Eli is in the room.”
That stopped Adrian.
Walter looked at the baby.
Then at Maeve.
“And because the truth is uglier than the lie.”
Hannah was still clutching the yellow envelope.
Maeve noticed it.
“You have it.”
Hannah looked down.
“Mr. Sloane told me not to give it to anyone until Celeste was here.”
Celeste went pale.
Walter nodded toward the envelope.
“Open it.”
Maeve took it.
Inside were three objects.
A faded ferry ticket.
A silver pocket watch.
And an old photograph folded in half.
Adrian reached for the photograph.
Celeste caught his wrist.
“Adrian, please.”
He looked at her hand.
She released him.
He unfolded the picture.
Maeve watched his expression disappear.
There was Celeste, nine years younger, standing beside a rain-darkened road.
Julian was on the ground behind her.
Walter Sloane stood near an open car door.
But neither of them was what Adrian was staring at.
Inside the car sat another man.
Only half his face was visible.
But on his wrist was a heavy gold watch Adrian knew instantly.
His father’s watch.
Malcolm Vale.
Adrian looked at Walter.
“My father was there.”
Walter nodded.
“Yes.”
Celeste whispered, “I told you the picture would change everything.”
Adrian’s eyes remained on Walter.
“My father told me Julian died in an accident.”
Walter’s voice cracked.
“Your father lied.”
“About what?”
Walter looked at the silver pocket watch in Maeve’s hand.
“About whose body you buried.”
Adrian froze.
Walter drew a slow breath.
“Julian survived that night.”
Maeve looked at the photograph.
Then at Adrian.
May you like
Walter’s next words landed like stones.
“Your father knew he survived.”
