Chapter 6 - My Son Finally Told Me What He Saw
The photograph was designed to divide us.
It worked.
For six hours.
Then I stopped reacting and started investigating.
My father had known Elena's mother.
That did not mean what the sender wanted us to assume.
Records showed she had worked for one of his hotels.
Hannah's mother had been the hotel attorney.
Three families.
One connection.
Money.
Elena found an old storage locker registered to her mother.
Inside were medical records, photographs, and a cassette recorder.
One tape was labeled:
FOR ELENA.
Her mother's voice shook.
"If you're hearing this, I failed to tell you myself."
Elena squeezed my hand.
I let her.
"Your father was Daniel Marlowe. He died before you were born. Preston Hale's father helped me after Daniel's death because Daniel had saved his life years earlier."
Elena exhaled.
Not family.
The photograph had been manipulation.
But the recording continued.
"Hannah knew you because she helped pay for your education. She asked me not to tell you. She said kindness shouldn't become debt."
Elena cried.
Now we understood Aunt Ellie.
Hannah had shown Noah photographs.
She had talked about Elena.
Why?
The tape answered that too.
"Hannah believed Elena could be trusted if something happened."
I looked at her.
My wife had chosen her.
Years before I knew her.
That evening Noah sat between us.
I asked him gently about the crash.
He remembered flashes.
Mama driving.
A black SUV.
A man arguing with her before she left.
"Who?"
Noah couldn't say.
Elena brought photographs.
Raymond.
Caleb.
Marcus.
My attorneys.
My drivers.
Noah pointed at Marcus.
"He yelled."
"At Mama?"
Noah nodded.
"What did he say?"
My son trembled.
I stopped.
Elena held his hand.
Noah whispered:
"He said, 'You don't understand. I'm trying to save you.'"
That wasn't what I expected.
"Then what?"
"Other man."
"What other man?"
Noah pointed at a photograph behind me.
My blood froze.
It was an old family portrait.
My father.
Raymond.
Me.
And Victor Sloane.
My father's former accountant.
A man supposedly dead for eleven years.
Noah touched Victor's face.
"This man."
That night, one of my teams located Marcus.
He wasn't hiding.
He was waiting in a motel outside Chicago.
When I entered, he raised both hands.
"I didn't kill Hannah."
"You ran."
"Because Victor is alive."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I helped him."
I drew my gun.
Marcus closed his eyes.
"Not the way you think."
"Start talking."
"Hannah discovered him first."
"Victor?"
"Yes."
"Why was he after Noah?"
"Because Noah owns something Victor needs."
"What?"
Marcus looked at me.
"Your empire."
Then someone knocked three times on the motel door.
May you like
Marcus went pale.
"He found us."
