Chapter 3 - Where Hannah Disappeared
The handle turned once.
Then stopped.
I looked at Milo.
He was standing beside the desk, clutching the edge of the chair with both hands.
“Grandpa?”
“Stay behind me.”
I lowered my voice into the phone.
“Claire, don’t hang up.”
Then I moved toward the door.
“David?”
“Yes.”
His voice remained calm.
Almost annoyed.
“Open the door, Richard.”
I didn’t.
Instead, I asked, “Why?”
A pause.
“Because you’re about to miss your own wedding.”
“I’m aware.”
“And Serena is starting to panic.”
That interested me.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why is Serena panicking?”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“Because the groom locked himself in a dressing room with a child minutes before the ceremony.”
Reasonable.
Too reasonable.
I looked at the laptop.
Elaine Mercer’s face remained frozen on the screen.
Then I looked at the name on Claire’s message.
David Conway.
Savannah.
I opened the door two inches.
David stood outside in a black tuxedo, silver tie, and the expression of a man inconvenienced by somebody else’s emotional breakdown.
He was sixty-three.
Tall.
Lean.
Gray hair at the temples.
For twenty-three years, I had trusted him with nearly everything.
My corporate restructurings.
My estate plans.
My first wife’s probate.
Hannah’s trust.
My charitable foundation.
My private holdings.
There were things David knew about my finances that even I occasionally forgot.
And somewhere in a Savannah newspaper archive, his name appeared beside Elaine Mercer.
“What happened in Savannah?” I asked.
David didn’t blink.
“What?”
“In 2008.”
His eyes changed.
Barely.
But I saw it.
He recovered instantly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Elaine Mercer.”
That did it.
His jaw tightened.
Then he gave a short laugh.
“Richard, are you seriously doing this now?”
“Doing what?”
“Letting Hannah sabotage your wedding.”
I opened the door wider.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You assumed this came from Hannah.”
He stared at me.
“You’re locked in a room with her son.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“Richard.”
“What happened in Savannah?”
David looked down the hallway.
For the first time, he seemed to notice we were not alone.
Two hotel employees stood near the ballroom entrance.
A bridesmaid hovered fifty feet away pretending not to watch us.
David lowered his voice.
“Close the door.”
“No.”
“This conversation should be private.”
“It already was.”
He looked past me.
“Is Milo in there?”
“Yes.”
“Then send him out.”
“No.”
Something flashed across his face.
Frustration.
“Why are you making this difficult?”
I almost laughed.
“David, I just learned that my fiancée may be involved in forged estate documents, that a woman connected to her has been using the name of someone declared dead seventeen years ago, and that my daughter is missing.”
That got him.
Not dramatically.
David Conway did not react dramatically.
But his face emptied.
“Missing?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
I watched him closely.
For the first time since opening the door, his confusion looked genuine.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you called her?”
“Of course I’ve called her.”
“What did Serena say?”
“I haven’t told Serena.”
David glanced toward the ballroom.
Then back at me.
“Good.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Why good?”
He realized his mistake.
“I mean there’s no reason to alarm her until you know more.”
“Why would Serena be alarmed by Hannah being missing?”
“She’s your daughter.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
David rubbed his forehead.
“Richard, you’re spiraling.”
The phrase irritated me.
Not because he was entirely wrong.
Because it sounded rehearsed.
Serena had used the same language whenever Hannah raised questions.
You’re letting her upset you.
You’re spiraling over nothing.
You need space from your daughter.
I took out my phone.
“Claire, are you still there?”
“Yes.”
David’s eyes narrowed.
I switched to speaker.
“Read me what you found.”
“Richard—”
“Read it.”
Claire hesitated.
Then her voice came through.
“Savannah Chronicle. October 17, 2008. A woman identified as Elaine Mercer was questioned during an investigation into the collapse of Coastal Heritage Financial.”
David closed his eyes.
Only for a second.
Claire continued.
“The article says multiple investors accused executives of hiding losses through shell companies.”
I stared at David.
“And?”
“There were three attorneys named in the article.”
“Read them.”
“Claire,” David said sharply.
She stopped.
I smiled without humor.
“You remember now.”
David looked at me.
“You have no idea what that case was.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t?”
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because there are things covered by privilege.”
“Whose privilege?”
He said nothing.
My stomach tightened.
Not mine.
If it had been mine, he would have said so.
“Who were you representing?”
David glanced toward Milo again.
I stepped fully into the hallway and pulled the door nearly closed behind me.
“Answer me.”
He leaned closer.
“A company.”
“What company?”
“Coastal Heritage Financial.”
“The company that collapsed?”
“Yes.”
“And Elaine Mercer?”
“She worked there.”
“Doing what?”
“Compliance.”
That surprised me.
“Compliance?”
“She was supposed to review internal transactions.”
“Was she involved in the fraud?”
David looked down.
“That depends who you believe.”
“Try me.”
He exhaled.
“The official story was that Elaine discovered irregularities, copied records, and threatened to report them.”
“And then?”
“She disappeared.”
I stared at him.
“Claire said she died.”
“She was declared dead later.”
“How?”
“Her car was found near the Savannah River.”
“No body?”
David shook his head.
“Not at the time.”
I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck.
“Then why did people say she was dead?”
“Because blood was found in the vehicle. There was enough evidence to assume she had been harmed.”
“Harmed by who?”
“No one was convicted.”
“David.”
“No one was convicted.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He met my eyes.
“The investigation centered on two executives and one outside consultant.”
“Names?”
He hesitated.
Then said, “Martin Vale. Thomas Reddick. And a woman named Lorraine Price.”
“Which one was Serena?”
David frowned.
“None of them.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Elaine?”
“No.”
“Then how does Serena connect?”
“I don’t know.”
I stared at him.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“After twenty-three years?”
“That’s exactly why you should believe me.”
My phone vibrated.
A text from Claire.
Hannah’s car just pinged.
I opened it immediately.
Where?
Three dots appeared.
Then:
Parking garage on Trade Street. Six blocks from hotel.
I turned toward the dressing room.
David grabbed my arm.
“Where are you going?”
I looked at his hand.
He released me.
“Hannah’s car has been located.”
“Where?”
“Nearby.”
“Don’t go alone.”
I stopped.
His reaction was too immediate.
“Why?”
“Because if she’s in trouble—”
“How do you know she’s in trouble?”
“You just said she’s missing.”
I studied him.
Then I called Claire.
She answered instantly.
“How do you have her car location?”
“Family tracking app. She gave me access months ago because of Milo.”
“Is the car moving?”
“No.”
“How long has it been there?”
“I don’t know. The app only updates when I refresh.”
“Send me the address.”
“I already did.”
I looked at Milo through the crack in the dressing-room door.
There was no way I was taking him into a parking garage if I suspected something had happened to Hannah.
But I was not leaving him at the hotel either.
Not with Serena.
Not with David.
Not with anyone connected to this wedding.
“Claire, come to the hotel.”
“I’m already on my way.”
“How long?”
“Eight minutes.”
“Use the side entrance. Don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.”
I hung up.
David stood beside me.
“You’re not seriously going to leave now.”
“My daughter may need me.”
“What about Serena?”
I stared at him.
“My daughter may need me.”
David looked away.
That told me more than any answer.
The ballroom doors opened.
Music spilled into the corridor.
Guests turned their heads.
The wedding coordinator came out, face pale.
“Mr. Hale?”
“Not now.”
“But the processional—”
“Stop it.”
She blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“Stop the music.”
Her face fell.
Behind her, Serena appeared.
The bouquet was gone.
Her veil had been removed.
She walked toward us slowly.
“What is happening?”
No smile this time.
No performance.
Just anger beneath control.
I looked at her.
“Hannah is missing.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“Her car was found nearby.”
Serena’s face changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
For one second, I forgot everything else.
“Do you know where she is?”
“No.”
“Serena.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“I said no.”
I watched her breathing.
Fast.
Shallow.
Then she looked at David.
Not me.
David shook his head once.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
But I saw it.
And so did Serena.
My stomach dropped.
“What was that?”
Neither answered.
“What was that look?”
“Richard,” David began.
Serena interrupted him.
“Nothing.”
“You two are lying.”
“No.”
“Then why did you just look at him?”
“Because you’re humiliating me in front of everyone.”
Guests were gathering near the doorway now.
My business partner.
My cousin.
Several employees.
People whispering.
Serena noticed them and instantly softened her expression.
The transformation was chilling.
She touched my sleeve.
“Please. Come inside. We’ll call Hannah together.”
I stepped back.
Her hand fell.
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“No?”
“We’re not getting married today.”
Silence.
Not just between us.
The hallway seemed to stop.
Serena stared at me.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
Behind her, somebody gasped.
David lowered his voice.
“Richard, think carefully.”
“I am.”
“Don’t do something irreversible because Hannah planted suspicion in your head.”
I turned on him.
“She planted forged signatures?”
David went silent.
Serena looked at him.
Then at me.
“What signatures?”
I almost admired it.
She was good.
If I had not watched those videos, I might have believed the confusion.
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Northstar Advisory.”
Her face drained.
There.
Gone.
The mask slipped.
“Where did you hear that name?”
I felt suddenly calm.
“Hannah.”
Serena’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
I stepped closer.
“You know exactly what she found.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
“Not here.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because you’re creating a spectacle.”
“No, Serena. You created it. I’m just finally looking at it.”
Her eyes filled.
For a second, even I questioned myself.
Then she whispered:
“I loved you.”
Past tense.
I noticed.
So did she.
“I love you,” she corrected.
Too late.
The side elevator opened.
Claire stepped out.
She moved quickly toward us.
Her face went white when she saw Serena.
Then she saw David.
And stopped.
“Richard.”
“What?”
Claire held out her phone.
“You need to see this.”
Serena immediately stepped toward her.
“What is it?”
Claire pulled the phone back.
“Don’t touch me.”
The words were quiet.
Serena froze.
I took the phone.
It showed Hannah’s location.
The parking garage.
Trade Street.
Level four.
Claire swiped.
“There’s something else.”
A photograph filled the screen.
Hannah’s car.
Not from an app.
A live image.
“Where did you get this?”
“A security attendant sent it to me.”
“How?”
“I called the garage and said I was looking for my sister.”
The image showed Hannah’s dark SUV parked near a concrete pillar.
Driver’s door closed.
Lights off.
No obvious damage.
But the rear passenger door was slightly open.
I handed the phone back.
“Stay with Milo.”
Claire nodded.
“I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
“Richard—”
“No. Milo needs somebody I trust.”
That silenced her.
I went into the dressing room.
Milo stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Mommy.”
His eyes widened.
“I want to come.”
“You’re staying with Aunt Claire.”
“No.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist.
My throat tightened.
I crouched.
“I need you to do something important.”
He looked at me.
“Stay with Aunt Claire and keep the USB safe.”
I removed it from the laptop and placed it in his hand.
“Don’t give this to anyone except me.”
“Not Serena?”
“No.”
“Not the man?”
I froze.
“What man?”
He looked toward the hallway.
“Mr. David.”
I stared at him.
“Why would you say that?”
Milo looked down.
“Mommy told me.”
My heartbeat slowed.
“What exactly did Mommy say?”
He thought for a moment.
Then whispered:
“She said if Grandpa wasn’t there, don’t give it to Mr. David.”
I stood.
David was still in the hallway.
Watching us.
I closed the door.
“Claire.”
She entered.
I handed Milo to her.
Then I turned back to David.
“Stay away from my grandson.”
His expression hardened.
“Richard, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Maybe.”
I grabbed my jacket.
“But if I am, you can bill me for the apology.”
I left through the service corridor.
The Trade Street garage was six blocks away.
I could have waited for a car.
I didn’t.
I walked fast.
Then faster.
My phone rang twice.
Serena.
I ignored it.
David.
Ignored.
Claire texted:
Milo is safe with me. Serena is trying to leave.
Then another:
David disappeared.
I stopped walking.
Disappeared?
I turned around.
The hotel entrance was half a block behind me.
No sign of him.
I continued.
Trade Street came into view.
The parking garage rose five stories over the intersection.
I entered through the pedestrian stairwell.
Level two.
Level three.
My lungs burned.
At sixty-seven, pride occasionally forgets biology.
I reached level four.
Concrete.
Fluorescent lights.
Rows of cars.
I checked Claire’s photo.
Pillar D17.
I walked deeper into the garage.
D12.
D13.
D14.
Then I saw it.
Hannah’s SUV.
D17.
Rear passenger door open three inches.
I slowed.
“Hannah?”
Nothing.
I approached the driver’s side.
Empty.
Passenger side.
Empty.
I looked through the rear door.
Milo’s booster seat.
A sweater.
A stuffed dinosaur.
No Hannah.
Then I saw her phone.
On the floor.
Screen shattered.
My chest tightened.
I opened the rear door fully.
“Hannah?”
Nothing.
Then I noticed something beneath the driver’s seat.
A white envelope.
My name was written across it.
DAD
I reached inside.
Before my fingers touched it, my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Hannah.
Alive.
Sitting in a chair somewhere I didn’t recognize.
Then a message arrived beneath it.
If you want your daughter back, do not return to the hotel.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
Another message appeared.
And whatever you do, do not trust Claire.
