Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN WHO NEVER DIED
Nathan did not run.
He locked the estate instead.
Every gate.
Every entrance.
Every private road.
Within thirty minutes, twelve men from Vance Harbor surrounded the property.
Doyle hated all twelve.
Nathan did not care.
The woman at the upstairs window had disappeared.
They searched every room.
Nothing.
No open doors.
No footprints outside.
No vehicle.
Only one thing had changed.
Rook refused to leave the greenhouse corridor.
The greenhouse had once connected to the eastern wing through a covered walkway.
Most of its glass had shattered years earlier.
Vines had consumed the iron framework.
Nathan followed Rook inside.
The dog sniffed the old tile.
Then moved toward a stone planter.
Doyle crouched beside it.
“Fresh dirt.”
They pushed the planter aside.
A metal hatch appeared.
Nathan almost laughed.
“How many hidden rooms did these people need?”
Lyle stood behind him.
“When your friends include judges, politicians, and smugglers, apparently more than one.”
The hatch opened into another passage.
This one descended toward the cliffs.
Sea tunnel.
The same route Lydia mentioned on the video.
Nathan went first.
The passage ended nearly two hundred yards from the estate inside a ruined boathouse below the property.
A lantern was burning.
Someone had been there minutes earlier.
On the table sat a cup of tea.
Still warm.
Rook began whining.
Then he moved toward a dark corner.
A woman stepped forward.
Nathan raised his weapon.
She lifted empty hands.
Gray hair framed a thin face.
But Nathan recognized her immediately.
Celeste Ostrander.
The dead widow.
She looked at Rook first.
“Oh,” she whispered.
The mastiff crossed the room.
Celeste dropped to her knees.
Rook pressed his enormous head against her chest.
She began crying.
“You survived.”
Nathan lowered his gun.
“So did you.”
Celeste looked up.
“Yes.”
Doyle seemed unable to speak.
Nathan asked the only question that mattered.
“Where is my sister?”
Celeste’s expression changed.
“She was alive the last time I saw her.”
“When?”
“Five weeks ago.”
Nathan went completely still.
Five weeks.
Not six years.
Five weeks.
“Where?”
Celeste sat at the table.
Her hands trembled.
“In Maine.”
Nathan pulled out the chair across from her.
“Start talking.”
Celeste told them what happened after the camera stopped.
The man Lydia believed was Prescott had entered the chapel corridor.
Daniel Lyle.
Prescott’s identical twin.
Daniel worked quietly inside the family investment company but had built his real fortune through the network Gideon wanted to expose.
Malcolm Voss handled legal protection.
Ronald Mercer protected local operations.
Daniel controlled the money.
When Gideon threatened to testify, Daniel ordered his death.
Celeste and Lydia escaped through the sea tunnel while the guesthouse burned.
Rook followed them.
Near the road, one of Daniel’s men caught them.
Rook attacked.
The man slashed the dog’s throat.
But before he could kill Lydia, Thomas Doyle arrived.
Whitaker Doyle closed his eyes.
“My father.”
Celeste nodded.
“He saved us.”
Thomas placed Lydia and Celeste in separate vehicles.
He told them the police department was compromised.
They could not trust anyone.
Not even Nathan’s organization, because Thomas believed Mercer had contacts on the Vance docks.
“What happened to Rook?”
“We thought he died.”
Nathan looked down at the dog.
Rook rested beside Celeste.
“He crawled twelve miles to one of my warehouses.”
Celeste smiled through tears.
“He knew where home was.”
Nathan looked away.
“Why didn’t Lydia contact me?”
“She tried.”
Nathan’s head turned back.
“Three times.”
Celeste’s voice became softer.
“The first message disappeared. The second reached a number controlled by Martin Keene. The third led Daniel’s men directly to the motel where Lydia was hiding.”
Nathan remembered Warrick naming Keene.
The leak.
Lydia had nearly been killed because she tried to contact him.
“That’s when Thomas insisted she disappear completely,” Celeste said.
“He arranged new identities for both of us. We separated.”
Doyle asked, “What happened to my father?”
Celeste’s eyes filled.
“He went back for the evidence.”
Doyle already knew the answer.
“He never came back.”
“No.”
The room became silent except for waves beneath the boathouse.
Nathan leaned forward.
“You said you saw Lydia five weeks ago.”
Celeste nodded.
“She found me.”
“How?”
“She had been following Daniel.”
Lyle stared.
“Daniel is alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
Celeste looked at him.
“He used your identity for years.”
Prescott sank into a chair.
Nathan finally understood the auction warning.
Why Lyle looked like a man who had once stood at the gates of the estate.
Why Lydia screamed Prescott’s name.
Daniel had spent years using his twin brother’s face as a shield.
Celeste continued.
“Lydia discovered Daniel planned to purchase several companies around Providence Harbor through shell corporations. She believed he wanted to rebuild the same network Gideon tried to expose.”
“Why come back here?”
“Because Daniel was looking for the ledger.”
Nathan glanced toward the tunnel.
“And the wall?”
Celeste nodded.
“He came to the estate before the auction. His men built false walls while searching for evidence.”
Six years too late.
They had tried to bury a crime after believing it was already buried.
“But they didn’t find everything,” Doyle said.
“No.”
Celeste looked at Nathan.
“Lydia knew Rook would.”
Nathan frowned.
“What?”
“She remembered hiding his old collar in the library cavity. She knew if Rook ever returned, he would smell himself. Smell her.”
Nathan suddenly understood.
The photograph in the auction catalog.
The abandoned collar.
The recorder.
It was not coincidence.
Lydia had built a path six years ago.
One meant for Rook.
One meant for Nathan.
“Where is she now?”
Celeste looked down.
“I don’t know.”
Nathan’s voice hardened.
“You saw her five weeks ago.”
“She left after two days.”
“Why?”
Celeste hesitated.
“Because she discovered Daniel knew she was alive.”
Nathan stood.
“And you let her leave?”
“She didn’t ask permission.”
“She’s my sister.”
“And she spent six years learning how to survive without you.”
The words stopped him.
Celeste softened.
“She loves you, Nathan. That is exactly why she stayed away.”
Nathan turned toward the ocean.
For six years he had assumed Lydia was dead.
Now he had to accept something almost more painful.
She had been alive.
Alone.
Afraid.
Believing proximity to him would kill them both.
Rook suddenly stood.
His ears lifted.
Nathan heard nothing.
Then a phone began ringing.
Not his.
Not Doyle’s.
The sound came from beneath the table.
Celeste stared at it.
“There wasn’t a phone there.”
Nathan reached down.
A black prepaid cellphone had been taped beneath the table.
It continued ringing.
Doyle whispered, “Don’t answer.”
Nathan answered.
No one spoke.
Then came breathing.
A man.
Nathan said nothing.
Finally the voice came.
“Did Celeste cry when she saw the dog?”
Lyle went white.
He recognized it.
“Daniel.”
The caller laughed.
“Hello, brother.”
Prescott stepped closer.
“You’re alive.”
“Unfortunately for you.”
Nathan took the phone.
“Where is Lydia?”
Silence.
Then Daniel spoke.
“Closer than you think.”
Nathan’s grip tightened.
“You touch her—”
“I already did.”
A message arrived.
Nathan opened it.
A photograph filled the screen.
Lydia.
Older.
Thinner.
But alive.
Her hands were tied in front of her.
Blood marked one side of her face.
Behind her Nathan recognized the shattered windows of the Ostrander greenhouse.
Daniel spoke again.
“You spent three point two million dollars trying to find your sister.”
Nathan looked toward the tunnel leading back to the estate.
Daniel whispered:
“Now let’s see how much you’ll pay to keep her.”
May you like
The line went dead.
Rook was already running.
