Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Never Died
Mason did not speak for almost a minute.
Elena watched him stare at the photograph.
His mother.
Alive.
Older.
But unmistakable.
“Where did you get this?” Mason asked.
Dominic sat behind the desk.
“A private investigator.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“You found her last week and didn’t tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“You were sure enough to photograph her.”
Dominic’s expression tightened.
“You don’t understand what Catherine knows.”
“Then explain.”
Dominic looked at Elena.
“Your mother tried to expose Patrick.”
Elena stepped closer.
“How?”
“Sofia copied financial ledgers. Payments. Judges. Police officers. Union officials. Politicians.”
Mason’s face hardened.
“Where are those records?”
“Michael hid them.”
“The lake house.”
Dominic nodded.
“Elena’s key opens the outer vault.”
Mason looked at him.
“And the second key?”
“The inner compartment.”
“Which Catherine had.”
“Yes.”
Mason turned toward Elena.
“So someone stole Thomas’s map because they know where we’re going.”
Dominic’s eyes sharpened.
“Thomas is alive?”
Mason noticed the reaction.
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
Another lie?
Elena could no longer tell.
Dominic walked to the window.
“Patrick believed Thomas died in 1996.”
“How?”
“His car went into the river.”
Mason laughed without humor.
“Apparently our family has difficulty verifying deaths.”
Elena thought of Sofia.
Her stomach tightened.
“What about my mother?”
Dominic did not turn.
“What about her?”
“Was her car accident real?”
Silence.
“Dominic.”
He faced her.
“I don’t know.”
Mason noticed something.
“You know more.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“Michael’s evidence wasn’t only about Patrick.”
“Who else?”
“People still alive.”
“Names.”
“I don’t have them.”
Mason picked up the photograph of Catherine.
“I’m going to this address.”
Dominic stood.
“Don’t.”
Mason looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because if Catherine has stayed hidden this long, there was a reason.”
“She is my mother.”
“And Patrick was your father.”
“Patrick is dead.”
Dominic’s face changed.
“Patrick died.”
The distinction was subtle.
Elena caught it.
“So?”
Dominic lowered his voice.
“Not everyone who worked for him did.”
Mason took the envelope.
Dominic stopped him.
“That stays.”
“It has my name on it.”
“It also has Elena’s.”
Elena took it from Dominic.
“Then I’ll carry it.”
Dominic almost smiled.
She disliked him immediately.
They left.
The address on Catherine’s photograph was in a quiet town nearly two hours north.
Mason wanted to leave at once.
Elena insisted they stop at the hospital to speak to Thomas.
Thomas looked worse.
But conscious.
When Mason showed him the photograph, tears filled the old man’s eyes.
“She’s alive.”
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
“Where did you leave her?”
Thomas stared at the ceiling.
“At a convent outside Milwaukee.”
Mason frowned.
“My mother became a nun?”
Thomas almost laughed.
“No. They hid women.”
“From what?”
“Men.”
Elena understood.
“A shelter.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t Catherine contact Mason later?”
Thomas looked at him.
“She tried.”
Mason froze.
“When?”
“For years.”
“I never received anything.”
“Patrick intercepted it.”
Mason’s jaw tightened.
Thomas continued.
“She sent letters through lawyers. Priests. Friends.”
“Nothing reached me.”
“Patrick made sure of that.”
Mason looked away.
Elena could see the anger building.
Not explosive.
Worse.
Controlled.
Thomas reached toward him.
“Mason.”
He stopped.
“Catherine didn’t abandon you.”
The sentence wounded him more than any accusation could have.
Elena saw it.
After the hospital, they drove north.
Catherine’s address belonged to a modest house with blue shutters.
No guards.
No gates.
No luxury.
Mason stood on the porch.
For the first time since Elena had met him, he hesitated.
“You want me to knock?” she asked.
“No.”
“You’ve been staring at the door for thirty seconds.”
“I’m aware.”
Elena stepped closer.
“If it’s her, she already lost thirty years.”
Mason looked at her.
Then knocked.
Footsteps approached.
The door opened.
An elderly woman stood there.
She looked at Mason.
The grocery bag in her hand fell.
A jar shattered.
Neither moved.
“Mason?”
His face broke.
Not completely.
Just enough.
“Mom.”
Catherine covered her mouth.
Then she pulled him into her arms.
Mason stood rigid for one heartbeat.
Then two.
Finally, he held her.
Elena turned away.
It felt too private to watch.
Minutes later, they sat in Catherine’s kitchen.
She had aged gracefully.
Her hands trembled.
Her eyes did not.
When Elena introduced herself, Catherine began crying again.
“You look like Sofia.”
“So everyone keeps saying.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For failing her.”
Elena’s throat tightened.
“You knew my mother?”
“She saved my life.”
Catherine reached across the table.
Elena allowed her to take her hand.
“Sofia discovered Patrick had killed Michael.”
Mason sat straighter.
“You’re sure?”
“I saw Patrick leave Michael’s office. Sofia found the medication bottle.”
“What medication?”
“Michael’s heart pills.”
Catherine looked at Elena.
“Patrick replaced them.”
“With what?”
“Nothing lethal enough to look suspicious. Just useless.”
Mason’s voice became cold.
“He let him die.”
“Yes.”
Catherine closed her eyes.
“Sofia stole the ledgers that night.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
“Me?”
“And Elena.”
Elena’s breath caught.
“Because Michael named us both in the trust.”
“Yes.”
Catherine looked at Mason.
“Your father believed controlling you meant controlling Michael’s empire. But Michael split everything.”
“Half to Elena?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
Catherine glanced at the envelope.
“You have Michael’s letter.”
“We haven’t opened it.”
“Then open it.”
Elena broke the seal.
Inside were three pages.
The first confirmed what Thomas said.
Michael acknowledged Elena as his biological daughter.
He apologized for hiding her.
He wrote that Sofia refused money because she feared Patrick would discover the child.
The second page described a trust.
Not just money.
Companies.
Properties.
Accounts.
A foundation.
Mason read the numbers.
His eyebrows rose.
“How much?”
Elena asked.
“Adjusted today?”
“Yes.”
“Possibly eight hundred million.”
Elena laughed.
No one else did.
She stopped.
“You’re serious?”
Mason nodded.
She looked down at her worn kitchen uniform.
“That’s absurd.”
Catherine smiled sadly.
“Michael thought money could repair mistakes.”
“It can’t.”
“No.”
The third page was different.
A warning.
If either beneficiary died under suspicious circumstances, full control transferred to the survivor.
Mason looked at Elena.
“So if my father killed her—”
“He would have needed you alive.”
Catherine nodded.
“And if he killed Mason?”
“Everything would have gone to Elena.”
Elena whispered.
“So Patrick needed both of us controlled.”
“Yes.”
Mason looked at Catherine.
“Where is the second key?”
Catherine’s face changed.
“I don’t have it.”
“What?”
“I gave it to Sofia.”
Elena stared.
“My mother had both keys?”
“For one night.”
“What happened?”
“Sofia returned one to me.”
“Which one?”
“The inner vault key.”
“Where is it now?”
Catherine stood.
She went to a cupboard.
Removed an old metal tea tin.
Inside was a small velvet pouch.
She opened it.
Empty.
Catherine went pale.
“No.”
Mason stood.
“When did you last check?”
“Three days ago.”
The photograph.
Three days ago.
Someone had found Catherine before Dominic’s investigator did.
Mason pulled out his phone.
“Lock down the house.”
Outside, a car engine started.
Mason ran for the door.
Elena followed.
A dark sedan pulled away from the curb.
One of Mason’s men shouted into a radio.
Catherine came onto the porch.
Then suddenly gasped.
She was staring at Elena’s shoulder bag.
The zipper was open.
Elena checked inside.
Her brass key was gone.
Both keys were now missing.
Mason’s phone vibrated.
A photograph appeared.
Two brass keys lay beside each other on a wooden table.
May you like
Below them was a message.
LAKE HOUSE. MIDNIGHT. COME ALONE.
