Chapter 3 - What the Doctors Found
Rowan replayed the recording four times.
Each time, Delaney’s final word sounded impossible.
Grant.
Grant Holloway had been Rowan’s closest friend since college.
They had built Mercer Development together from a borrowed office with two desks and a printer that jammed every twenty pages.
Grant had held Micah the day he was born.
He had attended Rowan and Delaney’s wedding.
He had sat beside Rowan during the divorce.
And less than twelve hours earlier, Rowan had called him for help.
“Could the recording have been altered?” Rowan asked.
Bennett nodded. “We’ll authenticate it.”
Rowan looked toward his children.
“Grant knows I’m looking at the transfers.”
Bennett’s expression changed.
“You contacted him?”
“Last night.”
“Do not contact him again.”
Rowan’s stomach tightened.
If Delaney was right, Rowan had just warned the person responsible.
Bennett immediately arranged protection outside the children’s hospital room.
Then another complication arrived.
A hospital social worker named Marissa Cole asked to speak privately with Rowan.
“We’re required to report suspected child neglect.”
“I understand.”
“The children were left unsupervised for approximately seventy hours.”
“Their mother disappeared.”
“That may ultimately explain what happened, but until investigators establish the circumstances, Child Protective Services will review both households.”
Rowan stared at her.
“My children are not going anywhere.”
“I’m not saying they are.”
“You’re implying it.”
“I’m explaining the process.”
Rowan forced himself to listen.
Marissa was not accusing him.
She was protecting the children.
He understood that.
But after nearly losing Elsie, every institutional sentence sounded like another threat to take them away.
“What do you need from me?”
“Cooperation.”
“You have it.”
“And patience.”
“That one may be harder.”
For the next several hours, Rowan answered questions about custody schedules, schools, medical records, sleeping arrangements, and his work schedule.
Then Micah was interviewed separately.
Rowan hated that most.
Through the glass, he watched his son speaking to a child specialist.
Micah held the worn teddy bear police had retrieved from the house.
Afterward, the specialist approached Rowan.
“Your son believes he did something wrong.”
Rowan’s face fell.
“Why?”
“Because his mother told him not to contact you.”
Rowan closed his eyes.
“He thinks calling you caused whatever happened to her.”
“No.”
“He needs to hear that repeatedly.”
Rowan entered the room.
Micah looked nervous.
“Am I in trouble?”
Rowan knelt.
“No.”
“Because I called?”
“Especially not because you called.”
“But Mom said—”
“Listen to me.”
Rowan took his hands.
“Calling me saved Elsie.”
Micah looked toward the floor.
“You didn’t make Mom disappear. You didn’t make Elsie sick. None of this happened because of you.”
Micah’s lip trembled.
“Then why didn’t Mom come back?”
Rowan could not lie.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Are you going to find her?”
“Yes.”
That promise frightened him.
Because he had no idea whether Delaney was still alive.
At noon, Bennett called with confirmation.
The recording was authentic.
Grant became a person of interest.
Police went to his home.
Empty.
His office.
Empty.
His phone was off.
His passport was missing.
Then Rowan remembered something.
Grant owned a hunting property outside Lebanon.
He told Bennett.
Police searched it.
Nobody was there.
But they found blood.
And Delaney’s blue jacket.
The search immediately became a suspected kidnapping investigation.
Rowan stood beside Elsie’s hospital bed when Bennett delivered the news.
“Is the blood hers?”
“We’re testing it.”
“Was there enough to suggest—”
Bennett understood the unfinished question.
“No.”
Rowan nodded.
Hope remained.
Thin.
Fragile.
But alive.
That afternoon, another discovery changed everything.
Mercer Development’s cybersecurity team found that Rowan’s credentials had been cloned from a computer in Grant’s office.
The financial theft had been carefully designed to implicate Rowan.
If auditors discovered the transfers before Rowan did, he could have faced criminal charges.
Delaney had somehow discovered the scheme.
And Grant had apparently discovered that she knew.
But one question remained.
Why had Delaney been investigating Rowan’s company at all?
The answer came from an unexpected person.
Rowan’s former mother-in-law, Judith.
She arrived at the hospital carrying a handbag and looking twenty years older than she had at Christmas.
“Where is my daughter?”
Rowan stood.
“I hoped you knew.”
Judith’s eyes filled with tears.
“She called me last week.”
“What did she say?”
“That she thought someone was stealing from you.”
Rowan stared.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She made me promise.”
“Why?”
“Because she thought you wouldn’t believe her.”
That hurt because it might have been true.
During the final year of their marriage, Rowan and Delaney had stopped trusting each other.
Judith opened her handbag.
“She gave me this.”
A sealed envelope.
Rowan opened it.
Inside were copies of bank records.
Transfer dates.
Account numbers.
And handwritten notes.
At the bottom of one page, Delaney had written:
Grant has access.
But Grant isn't alone.
Rowan looked up.
“Who else?”
Judith shook her head.
“She didn’t know.”
That changed the investigation.
Grant might not be the mastermind.
He might be one piece.
That evening, police received a tip.
A woman matching Delaney’s description had been seen at an abandoned roadside motel east of Nashville.
Officers surrounded it.
Rowan waited at the hospital.
Twenty-three agonizing minutes passed.
Then Bennett called.
“We found her.”
Rowan stood so quickly his chair fell backward.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
His knees nearly gave out.
“How is she?”
“Injured. Dehydrated. Conscious.”
“Bring her here.”
“They already are.”
Forty minutes later, Delaney arrived.
Her face was bruised.
One wrist was bandaged.
There was a cut above her eyebrow.
But she was alive.
Rowan stood at the end of the corridor.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Delaney saw Micah.
Her face crumpled.
“My baby.”
Micah ran toward her.
She dropped to her knees despite the nurse trying to stop her.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.
Micah wrapped himself around her.
“I waited.”
“I know.”
“You said twenty minutes.”
“I know.”
“You didn't come back.”
Delaney cried harder.
Rowan turned away.
Anger and relief fought inside him.
When Delaney was finally settled into a room, Rowan entered alone.
“Tell me everything.”
She looked exhausted.
“I found the transfers accidentally.”
“How?”
“Your old laptop.”
Rowan frowned.
“You still had it?”
“You left it after the divorce.”
She explained that she had powered it on searching for old family photographs. A synchronized folder contained financial records Grant apparently believed had been deleted.
She saw suspicious transfers.
Then she investigated.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because Grant was your best friend.”
“So?”
“So every time I criticized him when we were married, you defended him.”
Rowan had no answer.
“I needed proof.”
“And you left the children.”
“For what I thought would be twenty minutes.”
“Who were you meeting?”
“A former accountant from Mercer Development.”
“Name?”
“Elliot Crane.”
Rowan knew him.
Elliot had resigned two years earlier.
“He told me he had evidence.”
“What happened?”
“I drove to meet him.”
Her hands began trembling.
“A black SUV hit my car.”
Rowan leaned forward.
“Grant?”
“I never saw the driver.”
“What happened next?”
“They dragged me out.”
“They?”
“Two men.”
“Where did they take you?”
“I don't know. I was blindfolded.”
“How did you escape?”
“One of them left. The other fell asleep.”
Delaney looked toward the door.
“Rowan, Grant isn’t running this.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I heard him arguing with someone.”
“Who?”
“I couldn’t see.”
“What did they say?”
Delaney swallowed.
“Grant said he wanted out.”
Rowan waited.
“And the other man told him nobody leaves after stealing two million dollars.”
“Did Grant say a name?”
“No.”
“But I recognized the voice.”
Rowan felt cold.
“Whose?”
May you like
Delaney stared directly at him.
“Your father.”
