Chapter 4 - The Father Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Jane could not move.
The voice came again.
“Jane.”
Daniel Mercer stepped into view.
Older.
Thinner.
A gray beard covered the jaw she remembered clean-shaven.
But it was him.
Her father.
Or the man she had called her father.
Alive.
Jane’s mouth opened.
No sound came.
Daniel descended slowly with both hands visible.
Vincent stepped in front of Jane.
Daniel stopped.
“You.”
Vincent’s voice was ice.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
Daniel gave a tired smile.
“So are a lot of people in this family.”
Jane shoved past Vincent.
“Where have you been?”
Daniel looked at her.
Every hardness vanished from his face.
“Jane.”
“Don’t say my name.”
He stopped.
Three years.
Three years of grief.
Three years of visiting a grave.
Three years of remembering the last conversation she thought they would ever have.
“Your funeral,” Jane whispered.
“I know.”
“I buried you.”
“I know.”
“You let me.”
His eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Jane slapped him.
The sound cracked through the room.
Marco looked away.
Vincent did not move.
Daniel accepted it.
“You deserved that.”
“Deserved?”
Jane laughed.
“You vanished. You let me mourn you.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“That sentence is getting very popular tonight.”
Daniel looked toward Vincent.
“I assume he told you Elena was his sister.”
“He told me more than you did.”
Pain crossed Daniel’s face.
Jane hated that seeing it still hurt her.
“Are you my father?”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
Jane closed her eyes.
“Say it.”
“I’m your biological father.”
“And Charlotte stole me?”
Daniel hesitated.
Jane’s eyes opened.
“You gave me to her.”
The silence answered.
“You gave me to her.”
“I thought it was temporary.”
“For twenty-eight years?”
“Jane—”
“For twenty-eight years?”
Daniel’s voice cracked.
“I was twenty-six years old. Elena was dead. Vincent’s father had men searching every hospital room. I believed they were going to take you.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
“My father believed the baby died.”
“Eventually.”
Daniel turned toward him.
“But not that night.”
Jane looked between them.
“What happened?”
Daniel sat heavily.
Vincent remained standing.
“At St. Augustine,” Daniel began, “Elena gave birth at 11:42 p.m.”
Jane’s birthday.
Her real beginning.
“She hemorrhaged, but doctors stabilized her.”
Vincent stepped forward.
“You said she was murdered.”
“She was.”
“How?”
Daniel stared at him.
“Someone injected potassium into her IV.”
Vincent went still.
Jane whispered, “Who?”
“I saw a man leave her room.”
“Who?”
Daniel looked directly at Vincent.
“Your father’s driver.”
Vincent’s face lost color.
“No.”
“Anthony Bellini.”
“I knew Anthony.”
“So did I.”
“He wouldn’t—”
“He did.”
Vincent slammed one hand against the desk.
Everyone flinched except Daniel.
“My father sent Anthony to bring her home.”
Daniel’s voice was bitter.
“Maybe he changed the instructions.”
Vincent looked ready to destroy the room.
Jane stepped between the men.
“Stop.”
Vincent froze.
Jane faced Daniel.
“What happened to me?”
Daniel continued.
“Charlotte arrived twenty minutes after Elena died. Her father worked at the hospital. He created a transfer order.”
“You asked Charlotte to take me.”
“Yes.”
“Why her?”
“Because nobody knew she was connected to me.”
Jane laughed bitterly.
“She was your lover too?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Charlotte wanted to be.”
Jane understood.
“She loved you.”
“I didn’t love her.”
“And she raised the child of the woman you did love.”
Daniel looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“Did you ever wonder what that would do to her?”
“Every day.”
Jane stared.
“Not enough to tell me.”
“I tried.”
“Three years ago?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Daniel glanced toward the window.
“Charlotte overheard me making arrangements.”
“To tell me?”
“To take you somewhere safe first.”
“She tried to kill you.”
“Yes.”
“The car accident.”
“Wasn’t an accident.”
Jane’s anger faltered.
“Then how are you alive?”
“Someone pulled me out before the car exploded.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Daniel looked at him.
“Rosa.”
Everyone turned.
Vincent stared.
“My Rosa?”
Daniel nodded.
“She had been helping me for years.”
Vincent looked betrayed.
“She knew you were alive?”
“Yes.”
Jane remembered Rosa’s tears when she saw her.
Not only recognition.
Guilt.
Vincent spoke quietly.
“Where is she now?”
Daniel looked concerned.
“I assumed with you.”
Marco grabbed his phone.
Vincent dialed.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
“Call the house.”
Marco did.
He listened.
“No response.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
“Security?”
“Offline.”
Jane’s stomach twisted.
The photograph from inside the office.
The security breach.
“Rosa,” Jane whispered.
Vincent looked at her.
“Either she betrayed me.”
Daniel stood.
“Or Charlotte found her.”
Vincent was already moving.
“We go back.”
Daniel stepped into his path.
“You can’t.”
Vincent stared at him.
“Move.”
“Charlotte wants you back there.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she has spent three years trying to flush me out.”
Jane frowned.
“You’re the target too?”
Daniel nodded.
“She needs everyone connected to Elena dead.”
“Why?”
Daniel looked at the laptop.
“Because Elena left evidence.”
Vincent stopped.
“What evidence?”
“A ledger.”
“What kind?”
“Payments. Names. Judges. Police. Businessmen.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
“My father.”
“Yes.”
Jane slowly understood.
Elena had not merely been a pregnant woman caught between powerful people.
She had discovered something.
“What was she doing with it?”
Daniel hesitated.
“She worked in accounting for one of Moretti Senior’s companies.”
Vincent nodded slowly.
“I knew that.”
“She found payments tied to city contracts. Bribes. Extortion. Witness payments.”
Vincent’s face was unreadable.
“She copied everything.”
“And Charlotte knows?”
“She knows the ledger exists.”
“Where?”
Daniel looked at Jane.
“I gave it to Elena before she went into labor.”
“That makes no sense.”
“She told me she had hidden it someplace no Moretti would ever search.”
Vincent said, “Where?”
Daniel’s eyes remained on Jane.
“She said, ‘With the baby.’”
Jane froze.
“With me?”
“I never understood it.”
Vincent’s gaze went to the crescent scar below Jane’s ear.
Jane touched it.
“No.”
Daniel stared at the scar.
“What?”
Jane felt suddenly sick.
“Charlotte said I got this falling into a glass table.”
Daniel’s face drained.
“You didn’t have that scar when I gave you to her.”
Silence.
Vincent stepped closer.
“A doctor.”
Jane backed away.
“No.”
“We need imaging.”
“What are you saying?”
Daniel spoke slowly.
“Elena may have hidden something in your hospital bracelet, your blanket, anything.”
Vincent shook his head.
“Not under her skin.”
Jane looked at him.
“Why not?”
“Because Elena wouldn’t cut a newborn.”
Daniel said, “Maybe Elena didn’t.”
All three thought the same thing.
Charlotte.
Jane’s hands began shaking.
“Did she put something in me?”
Daniel looked horrified.
“I don’t know.”
Vincent pulled out his phone.
“Dr. Ruiz.”
Jane grabbed his wrist.
“No hospitals.”
“She’s private.”
“No records.”
“My doctor. No system entry.”
Jane hesitated.
Daniel interrupted.
“You shouldn’t stay here.”
“Where do you suggest?”
“My safe house.”
Vincent laughed coldly.
“You’ve been dead for three years and you expect me to trust your safe house?”
“No.”
Daniel looked at Jane.
“I expect her to decide.”
Vincent turned toward Jane.
He did not argue.
That mattered.
Jane breathed slowly.
“First we find Rosa.”
Vincent nodded.
“Then we examine the scar.”
Daniel started to object.
Jane held up a hand.
“No one makes decisions about my body but me.”
Daniel closed his mouth.
They returned toward Chicago in two vehicles.
Daniel rode separately with Marco.
Jane sat beside Vincent again.
For several miles, he said nothing.
Finally Jane asked, “Do you believe him?”
“Parts.”
“Which parts?”
“Elena had access to my father’s books. She argued with him six months before she died. I never knew why.”
“And the murder?”
Vincent stared ahead.
“Anthony Bellini disappeared the morning after Elena died.”
Jane looked at him.
“You never connected it?”
“I was nineteen.”
“That excuse is wearing thin.”
“I know.”
She expected anger.
Again, none.
Vincent’s voice lowered.
“I spent years believing I failed Elena because I wasn’t powerful enough.”
Jane turned toward him.
“What if your father ordered it?”
“Then I failed her because I loved the wrong man.”
“He was your father.”
“That doesn’t make him innocent.”
Jane studied Vincent’s profile.
“Charlotte used to say family loyalty was everything.”
“My father said the same.”
“Maybe people say that when they want forgiveness without earning it.”
Vincent looked at her.
A faint sad smile appeared.
“You really are Elena’s daughter.”
Jane didn’t know whether that comforted or frightened her.
They reached the mansion.
The gates were open.
No guards.
Vincent was out of the SUV before it stopped.
Jane followed.
Inside, the entry hall was dark.
“Rosa!”
No answer.
Marco moved toward the kitchen.
Luca toward security.
Jane saw something on the marble floor.
A broken coffee cup.
Blood beside it.
Vincent crouched.
His face changed.
“Rosa.”
Jane followed the trail.
It led toward the basement stairs.
Vincent stopped her.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Jane.”
“If Charlotte has her because of me, I’m going.”
Vincent looked ready to argue.
Then Daniel appeared behind them.
“She’ll go whether you approve or not.”
Vincent shot him a murderous look.
Jane descended first.
The basement was larger than she expected.
Wine storage.
Mechanical rooms.
An old archive.
At the end of the corridor, a door stood open.
Inside, Rosa sat tied to a chair.
Alive.
Jane rushed toward her.
Vincent grabbed Jane’s arm.
“Wait.”
Jane froze.
A thin wire ran across the doorway.
Luca crouched.
“Tripwire.”
Rosa’s eyes widened.
Tape covered her mouth.
Vincent looked around.
“Bomb?”
Luca examined it.
“No. Alarm.”
“For what?”
Then a voice came from a speaker overhead.
Charlotte.
“Welcome home.”
Jane looked up.
Vincent’s face hardened.
Charlotte continued.
“You always were predictable, Vincent.”
The basement door slammed behind them.
Locks engaged.
Lights went red.
Rosa began struggling violently.
Jane saw her trying to point.
Not at the wire.
At the wall.
A digital timer lit up.
05:00.
04:59.
04:58.
Daniel stared at it.
“What happens at zero?”
Rosa shook her head desperately.
Vincent ripped the tape from her mouth.
She gasped one sentence.
“She didn’t come for me.”
Jane looked at her.
“Then who?”
Rosa’s eyes filled with terror.
“She came for you.”
Above them, the mansion’s main doors opened.
May you like
Footsteps crossed the floor.
And Charlotte Whitmore began walking downstairs.
