Chapter 4 - Someone in My House Had Been Lying
I didn't shout.
That frightened my men more than shouting would have.
I locked down the mansion.
Nobody left.
Marcus met me outside Noah's room.
"We're checking cameras."
"Who was assigned here?"
"Davis."
"Where is he?"
"Infirmary."
"Bring him."
Marcus hesitated.
"He's unconscious."
"Wake him."
Elena stood inside Noah's room.
She found something near the window.
A thread.
Blue wool.
Noah owned no blue clothing.
Marcus did.
His winter overcoat was navy.
I said nothing.
The security footage had been erased.
All except eleven seconds.
At 4:13 P.M., Noah walked willingly down the east corridor holding someone's hand.
The person's body remained outside the camera frame.
But Noah wasn't struggling.
He knew them.
Then the footage ended.
"Someone inside," Elena said.
Marcus looked at her.
"You should stay out of this."
"Why?"
"Because you're staff."
Elena stepped toward him.
"And your security lost a six-year-old."
I almost smiled.
Marcus didn't.
My phone buzzed.
A photograph.
Noah sitting in a dark room.
Alive.
Beside him was today's newspaper.
Then an address.
An abandoned meatpacking plant.
COME ALONE.
I prepared anyway.
Three teams.
Snipers.
Drones.
Marcus wanted command.
I gave it to someone else.
He noticed.
"Something wrong?"
"My son is missing."
"That's not what I meant."
I looked at him.
"Then ask the question you mean."
He didn't.
At midnight, I entered the plant alone.
At least that was what whoever watched believed.
Noah sat under a hanging light.
No guards visible.
"Noah."
He looked up.
"Dad."
The word nearly broke me again.
I moved toward him.
A voice came from the darkness.
"Stop."
I recognized it.
Not Marcus.
My uncle.
Raymond Hale.
My father's older brother stepped into the light.
Seventy years old.
Silver hair.
Tailored coat.
The man who had taught me how to survive after my father was murdered.
"Uncle Ray."
"Hello, Preston."
"Let him go."
"Eventually."
"Now."
He smiled.
"You sound like your father."
"Don't."
"Still sensitive."
I wanted to shoot him.
But I couldn't see the other men.
"Noah has nothing to do with this."
"He has everything to do with it."
"Explain."
"Hannah discovered accounts she wasn't supposed to discover."
"So you killed her?"
His smile vanished.
"No."
I believed him.
That surprised me.
"Then who?"
"Ask Marcus."
There it was.
"Why should I believe you?"
"You shouldn't."
Raymond stepped closer.
"But Hannah came to me before she died."
"Why?"
"Because she thought I was stealing from Noah."
"Were you?"
"No."
"Who was?"
"Marcus."
I watched his face.
"Proof?"
Raymond tossed me a flash drive.
"Everything Hannah couldn't finish."
"Why kidnap Noah?"
"To make you come without Marcus."
"You could have called."
"And you would have believed me?"
No.
Probably not.
Noah suddenly looked toward the darkness.
His face changed.
"Bad man."
Raymond turned.
A gunshot cracked.
He fell.
I dove toward Noah.
Gunfire erupted.
My teams breached the building.
I covered my son with my body.
When it stopped, Raymond was bleeding but alive.
The shooter escaped.
Noah clung to me.
Then he pointed toward an upper catwalk.
"That man."
I looked.
Empty.
"Who?"
Noah whispered, "The man from Mama's car."
My heart stopped.
"You saw him?"
Noah nodded.
Then the emergency lights flickered on.
May you like
At the far end of the catwalk, a man appeared for one second before disappearing through a steel door.
Marcus Vale.
