Chapter 4 - THE BLOODLINE WORTH A FORTUNE
“Tell me your mother's full name.”
Adrienne's voice was barely above a whisper.
Laura Turner sat motionless at the kitchen table.
“Lillian Grace Whitcomb.”
“What was her birth name?”
“I don't know.”
“Did she ever mention Rose Mercer?”
“No.”
Catherine placed a protective hand on her mother's shoulder.
“Stop questioning her like she's a suspect.”
Adrienne looked ashamed.
“I'm sorry.”
He stepped away.
But Catherine could see what was happening behind his eyes.
If Laura's mother had been Rose Mercer's missing daughter, the consequences extended far beyond a painting.
There was a fortune involved.
An inheritance.
And a family that might have spent forty years protecting a terrible secret.
Laura reached for the old photograph.
“My mother was adopted by a couple in Pennsylvania. She knew almost nothing about her biological parents.”
“Was she happy?” Catherine asked.
Laura nodded sadly.
“Mostly. She married your grandfather, raised three children, and worked as a school librarian. But she always wondered where she came from.”
“Did Dad know?”
“I don't know.”
Adrienne pulled out his phone.
“I can arrange independent genetic testing.”
Catherine stiffened.
“You're assuming we want that.”
“I'm offering a way to confirm the connection.”
“And who controls the results?”
“You would.”
She watched him carefully.
“No Mercer family laboratory. No private reports sent to your attorneys first.”
“Agreed.”
Evelyn, who had remained near the doorway, frowned.
“Adrienne, we need to consider the legal implications.”
Catherine laughed without humor.
“Now we're getting somewhere.”
Adrienne turned.
“Evelyn, this isn't a negotiation.”
“Everything becomes a negotiation when inheritance rights are involved.”
Laura lowered the photograph.
“Inheritance?”
Evelyn sighed.
“If Rose had another child, and that child had descendants, there could be questions concerning certain family assets.”
Catherine felt her stomach tighten.
“What kind of assets?”
Adrienne hesitated.
“My grandfather created a trust for his direct descendants.”
“How much?”
“It's complicated.”
“How much, Adrienne?”
He met her eyes.
“Depending on the interpretation of the trust documents, hundreds of millions.”
Laura covered her mouth.
Catherine stared at the painting resting against the wall.
Twenty dollars.
A forgotten canvas.
And now a family fortune.
But something bothered her.
“If this is true, why did your grandfather search for the painting?”
Adrienne looked toward the photograph.
“Perhaps he wasn't searching for it because he loved Rose.”
“Then why?”
“Because he knew what was hidden underneath.”
Catherine sat down.
She needed to think.
Her father had known about the child.
He had been threatened.
Someone had just searched her mother's home.
And Vivian Mercer had recognized Catherine before being introduced.
None of it felt like coincidence.
“I want to examine the painting myself,” Catherine said.
Adrienne shook his head.
“Not without proper equipment.”
“I work in a gallery.”
“You aren't a conservator.”
“My father was. He taught me what not to touch.”
“Then you should understand the danger of damaging it.”
Catherine stood.
“I understand that your family has had forty years to control this story. I'm not handing over the only evidence.”
Adrienne studied her.
Then nodded.
“Fair enough.”
The following morning, Lydia arranged a noninvasive examination at an independent conservation studio in Albany.
Catherine insisted on being present.
Adrienne attended without his attorney.
Marcus arrived with documentation from the gallery.
The studio's imaging specialist, Dr. Helen Strauss, photographed the painting under several wavelengths.
Then she examined the surface using infrared reflectography.
Catherine stood beside the monitor.
At first, the screen showed only the lake.
Then darker shapes emerged beneath the visible paint.
A woman's arm.
A small shoulder.
A child's hand.
Catherine gripped the edge of the table.
“There.”
Helen adjusted the contrast.
The hidden portrait became clearer.
Rose Mercer sat on the cottage steps holding a little girl.
The child's face was turned toward the viewer.
Adrienne leaned forward.
“My God.”
Catherine recognized the girl.
It was the same child in the photograph.
But there was something else.
A narrow pendant hung around her neck.
An oval locket.
Laura had shown Catherine an identical locket years earlier.
It had belonged to her mother.
“Can you enlarge that?” Catherine asked.
Helen complied.
Inside the painted locket was a tiny blue flower.
Catherine whispered, “My grandmother had that necklace.”
Adrienne looked at her.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
She reached for her phone and called Laura.
“Mom, where's Grandma's locket?”
“In my jewelry box. Why?”
“Please don't let anyone touch it.”
“Catherine, what's happening?”
“We found the girl.”
A pause.
Then Laura began to cry.
Catherine closed her eyes.
But Helen interrupted.
“There's another feature.”
She enlarged an area near the cottage window.
Beneath the upper paint layer, a line of lettering appeared.
Not a signature.
A message.
Helen adjusted the image until the words became legible.
For Lily, when she is old enough to know.
Adrienne's hand covered his mouth.
Catherine felt a sharp ache in her chest.
Rose hadn't merely sat for a portrait.
She had wanted her daughter to receive it.
“Can we see whether there's more?” Catherine asked.
Helen studied the image.
“Possibly. But some areas are obscured by later pigments.”
She pointed to the bottom edge.
“There's a date beneath the repair.”
Catherine leaned closer.
August 21.
Three days after the photograph had been taken.
Adrienne frowned.
“The police report says Rose drowned on August nineteenth.”
Catherine turned toward him.
“Then how could she have painted a message to Lily on August twenty-first?”
Nobody answered.
Helen looked at the screen again.
“The inscription could have been added by the artist.”
“Was Elias Vance still alive then?” Catherine asked.
“Yes,” Marcus replied. “He lived another fourteen years.”
Catherine stared at the hidden message.
Maybe Rose hadn't painted it.
Maybe the artist had added it after her death.
But why?
And why had he hidden the portrait beneath a landscape?
Adrienne stepped outside to call an investigator.
Catherine remained near the painting.
Helen was preparing the next images when Marcus approached.
“You should consider accepting the offer.”
Catherine glanced at him.
“Why?”
“Five million dollars is life-changing.”
“That's not an answer.”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“The Mercers have extraordinary resources. You don't want a legal battle.”
“You sound like Evelyn.”
His expression hardened.
“I've spent twenty years trying to protect this gallery.”
“From what?”
He didn't answer.
Catherine looked at him more closely.
“You knew Daniel Turner.”
Marcus stiffened.
“Everyone in the regional art community knew your father.”
“Did you know he restored this painting?”
“No.”
“You're lying.”
Before he could respond, Catherine's phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed her mother's house.
Taken that morning.
Beneath it was a message.
Your father made one mistake.
Don't make the same one.
A second image followed.
Laura stood at her kitchen window.
Someone had photographed her from the yard.
May you like
Then came six words that made Catherine's blood turn cold.
SELL THE PAINTING OR LOSE HER.
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