Chapter 7 - The Man Behind the Monitor
Adrian moved toward the staircase.
Ortiz grabbed his arm.
“No.”
“That’s my brother.”
“And somebody wants you angry.”
“He has Marcus.”
“We don’t know where.”
A sound came from upstairs.
A door closing.
Police spread through the mansion.
I stayed beside Evelyn.
She trembled.
“Why would Warren do this?”
Her answer was almost too quiet to hear.
“Because he has been running from what Elizabeth found for twenty-two years.”
A police officer shouted.
“Movement!”
We heard footsteps.
Then a man ran across the upper hallway.
Officers followed.
A window shattered.
Minutes later, they found an empty bedroom.
A rope hung from the balcony.
Whoever had been there escaped into the grounds.
But he left something.
A syringe.
Samuel examined it without touching.
“Same compound?”
“We’ll test it.”
Ortiz looked toward me.
“He wanted us to find this.”
“Why?”
“To keep the threat alive.”
The video monitor flickered.
Warren appeared again.
Not recorded.
Live.
Adrian stepped toward the screen.
“Where is Marcus?”
Warren smiled.
“You still call him Marcus.”
“Where is my brother?”
“That’s better.”
“Touch him and I’ll—”
“Do what Jonathan did?”
Adrian stopped.
Warren leaned closer.
“You look like him when you’re angry.”
“I’m nothing like him.”
“No?”
Warren’s smile disappeared.
“Your father buried children beneath contracts and settlements. Your mother signed payments. Your company inherited the profits.”
“I inherited a company when I was twenty-five.”
“You inherited blood money.”
“Then come after me.”
“I did.”
My stomach dropped.
Noah.
Adrian’s expression became murderous.
Warren noticed.
“There he is.”
“You poisoned my son.”
“No.”
Silence.
Warren sat back.
“I frightened you with your son.”
“What does that mean?”
“The small doses were mine.”
My knees weakened.
“But the overdose wasn’t?”
“No.”
“Who gave it?”
Warren smiled again.
“Ask the person standing beside you.”
Everyone turned.
Evelyn.
Her face went white.
“No.”
Warren continued.
“My wife always was sentimental.”
“I didn’t hurt Noah!”
“You had access.”
“So did you!”
“You tracked every dosage.”
“To protect him!”
Warren laughed.
Then the screen went black.
Evelyn turned toward me.
“Claire, believe me.”
I wanted to.
But fear had already poisoned every relationship around us.
Ortiz separated everyone.
Samuel tested the syringe.
It contained saline.
Another distraction.
Then police discovered something on the mansion’s network.
Warren had not hacked us remotely.
He was using an internal administrative account.
One created nine months earlier.
The username:
RCOLE.
Rebecca.
Adrian confronted his mother.
“I didn’t create it.”
“Your credentials did.”
“I swear.”
Marcus had managed the system.
But if Warren had access to Marcus’s history, he could manipulate almost anything.
Or Marcus could have created it himself.
Again, suspicion everywhere.
At 2:00 a.m., we received proof Marcus was alive.
A photograph.
He held a newspaper beside his face.
Behind him was an industrial wall painted red.
Marcus had one message:
DON’T GIVE HIM THE ORIGINALS.
Adrian stared at me.
“He knows Warren wants the microfilm.”
“Maybe he knows something else.”
We enlarged the photograph.
A number had been scratched into the wall.
Not random.
Marcus was communicating.
I recognized it.
Cole Meridian warehouse code.
Facility 41, section 97.
Chelsea waterfront.
Adrian called Ortiz.
Police surrounded the warehouse before dawn.
Warren expected us.
The building appeared abandoned.
Inside, lights led toward the center.
Marcus sat tied to a chair.
Alive.
Adrian ran toward him.
“Stop!” Marcus shouted.
A motion sensor clicked.
Adrian froze.
Red laser lines appeared across the floor.
Not explosives.
Security alarms connected to automated shutters.
Warren wanted us trapped.
Police disabled the system.
Adrian reached Marcus.
For the first time since discovering the truth, the brothers stood face-to-face knowing what they were.
Marcus looked at him.
“Guess Mom has some explaining to do.”
Adrian almost laughed.
Then he hugged him.
It was brief.
Awkward.
Real.
I turned away because the moment belonged to them.
Marcus told us Warren had abducted him after the phone call with my father.
But Warren had made one mistake.
He talked too much.
“He didn’t overdose Noah,” Marcus said.
“I know.”
“He doesn’t know who did.”
“Then who does?”
“Thomas.”
The CFO.
Marcus had seen Thomas meeting someone outside the mansion three nights before Noah collapsed.
“Who?”
“I couldn’t see clearly.”
“A man?”
Marcus shook his head.
“A woman.”
My mind raced.
Rebecca.
Evelyn.
Staff.
Me.
“Did Thomas know about the drug?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He discovered Warren was blackmailing Cole Meridian.”
Adrian frowned.
“For what?”
“Three hundred million dollars.”
Warren threatened to release the Halcyon evidence unless Adrian transferred money.
Adrian had never received the demand because Thomas intercepted it.
“He thought he could solve it himself,” Marcus said.
“Idiot,” Adrian muttered.
“Pretty much.”
Thomas had paid Warren secretly using stolen company funds.
Twenty-seven million so far.
That explained the embezzlement.
Maybe Thomas wasn’t stealing for himself.
Maybe he was buying time.
“But why poison Noah?” I asked.
Marcus looked grim.
“To force Thomas to pay faster.”
“That explains the small doses.”
“Exactly.”
“Not the overdose.”
“No.”
Somebody else wanted Noah dead.
The question was why.
We returned to the hospital.
Noah had improved enough to leave intensive care within another day.
I sat beside him.
For the first time since the nightmare began, I allowed myself to imagine bringing him home.
Then Dr. Chen entered.
She looked uneasy.
“What?”
“We ran genetic tests because of the cardiac complications.”
My heart jumped.
“What did you find?”
“Noah does not have an inherited cardiac disorder.”
“Good.”
“Yes.”
She hesitated.
“But we found something else.”
Adrian stood.
“What?”
Dr. Chen looked at both of us.
“There’s a discrepancy in the family profile.”
Every terrible possibility entered my head.
“What discrepancy?”
“The DNA sample we obtained from Noah does not match the paternal profile in Mr. Cole’s hospital record.”
Silence.
Adrian stared at me.
I stared at Dr. Chen.
“That’s impossible.”
“We’re repeating the test.”
Adrian said nothing.
I felt sick.
“Are you saying Adrian isn’t Noah’s father?”
“I’m saying the preliminary comparison showed inconsistency.”
I grabbed the crib rail.
“No. There has to be a mistake.”
Thomas.
My old relationship.
Ten years ago.
Not remotely possible.
Unless—
Then I remembered something.
During our fertility treatment, embryos had been stored at a private clinic.
Noah was conceived through IVF.
Adrian understood at the same time.
“Our embryos.”
Dr. Chen nodded.
“That is one possibility we need to investigate.”
Somebody had threatened Noah before he was even born.
The clinic records were requested.
At 8:17 p.m., the fertility director called.
He sounded terrified.
“Our system shows an unauthorized access event fourteen months ago.”
“Whose account?” I asked.
He hesitated.
“Rebecca Cole.”
Adrian’s mother.
We found Rebecca in the hospital chapel.
Adrian closed the door behind us.
“Tell me the truth.”
She looked from him to me.
“What happened?”
“You accessed the fertility clinic.”
Rebecca stopped breathing.
Adrian stepped closer.
“Why?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I was trying to stop it.”
“Stop what?”
She looked at me.
“Claire, Noah was never supposed to be implanted.”
I felt the room tilt.
“What?”
“The embryo was switched.”
Adrian grabbed the back of a pew.
“By who?”
Rebecca whispered:
“Jonathan.”
Adrian stared at her.
“My father was dead before Noah was conceived.”
“Yes.”
“Then how?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“I don’t mean he switched it himself.”
She opened her handbag.
Pulled out an old letter.
“He left instructions.”
“For what?”
She handed it to Adrian.
His face changed as he read.
I took it.
Jonathan Cole’s handwriting covered the page.
IF LUCAS EVER RETURNS, THE FAMILY LINE MUST BE PROTECTED.
Beneath it was a genetic donor code.
LC-4197.
The warehouse number.
Lucas Cole.
Marcus.
I looked at Rebecca.
“You’re saying Noah is Marcus’s biological son?”
“No.”
She began crying harder.
“That’s what I thought.”
“What does that mean?”
Rebecca looked toward the chapel door.
“The donor code was changed again.”
“By who?”
A woman answered from behind us.
“I changed it.”
We turned.
Evelyn stood in the doorway.
And beside her was Thomas Avery.
May you like
Evelyn looked directly at me.
“Claire, I know who Noah’s biological father is.”
