Chapter 9: The Child Nobody Buried
The ambulance arrived eleven minutes later.
I counted every second.
Michael lay on the chapel steps while paramedics worked over him. Blood soaked through their gloves, and the flashing red lights painted the stone walls like an open wound.
Grace arrived just as they loaded him into the ambulance.
“Who did this?””
I shook my head.
“I don't know.””
She looked at Michael's face.
Then she stopped breathing.
“Oh, my God.””
“You recognize him?””
She nodded slowly.
“That's impossible.””
“That's what everyone keeps saying.””
Grace stepped closer to the ambulance.
“Daniel, that's the man I saw with Vanessa the night of the accident.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
“I saw him in the passenger seat of her car. I thought he was a bodyguard. He had your face, but I assumed it was a trick of the light.””
She looked at me with horrified realization.
“Michael was there that night.””
The paramedics closed the ambulance doors.
I climbed inside.
Grace followed.
As the vehicle pulled away, I held Michael's hand and watched the monitor beside his head.
His heartbeat was weak but steady.
I leaned close.
“You don't get to disappear again. You hear me? You owe me answers.””
His fingers moved slightly.
Then he opened his eyes.
“Daniel?””
“I'm here.””
He swallowed painfully.
“Don't trust the hospital.””
I frowned.
“What do you mean?””
His eyes shifted toward the paramedic.
The man was watching us.
Too closely.
Michael's grip tightened.
“Vanessa owns the clinic.””
Before I could ask another question, the paramedic injected something into Michael's IV.
His eyes widened.
“Stop!”” I shouted.
The man reached for a syringe.
Grace struck his arm with the metal flashlight she had taken from her car.
The syringe flew across the ambulance.
The second paramedic shouted for the driver to stop.
I grabbed the first man's wrist and slammed it against the stretcher.
He cursed and tried to pull away.
Grace pointed her gun at him.
“Don't move.””
The driver swerved to the roadside.
The ambulance screeched to a halt.
Within seconds, the first paramedic was on his knees, his hands secured behind his back with a belt.
The second paramedic turned out to be a genuine emergency medical technician who had been forced to cooperate at gunpoint. He called for a new ambulance and confirmed that Michael had been given a sedative rather than a fatal injection.
We transferred Michael to a public hospital under police protection.
By dawn, Detective Price had arrived.
He examined the captured paramedic's identification and frowned.
“This man worked for a private security firm that disappeared from the records six months ago.””
“Who owns the firm?”” I asked.
Price looked at me.
“Vanessa Hayes.””
I laughed once, without humor.
“Of course she does.””
Price pulled me into a corridor.
“Daniel, I need you to tell me everything. No more half-truths. No more private investigations.””
I told him about the bear, the recordings, the storage unit, the red door, and the photographs.
I told him about my mother.
And I told him about Michael.
Price listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he rubbed his face.
“If even half of this is true, we're dealing with a criminal organization, not a family dispute.””
“Then investigate it.””
“I will. But you need to understand that Vanessa may have people in law enforcement.””
I thought of Grace's ruined life, Lily's disappearance, and the man who had tried to drug my brother.
“I understand.””
Price lowered his voice.
“One more thing. We searched the storage facility after you left. The man Marcus tied up was gone.””
My stomach tightened.
“Gone how?””
“The restraints were cut. The blood trail ended at the rear gate.””
I looked through the corridor window at Michael's hospital room.
“Then we're running out of time.””
At noon, Michael regained consciousness.
The doctors said the bullet had missed his heart by inches. He was weak, but he could speak.
I sat beside his bed while Grace stood near the window.
“Tell me about the first child,” I said.
Michael looked at the door.
“Is Price outside?””
“Yes.””
“And Marcus?””
“Guarding the corridor.””
He exhaled.
“Good.””
He turned toward me.
“Our father had three children.””
I stared at him.
“What?””
“You, me, and a girl.””
Grace moved away from the window.
“No.””
Michael nodded.
“Her name was Abigail.””
I remembered nothing about a sister.
Nothing.
Michael continued.
“She was born two years before us. Our father never acknowledged her publicly because her mother was a laboratory technician he had an affair with. When the woman died, Abigail was placed in foster care.””
I felt sick.
“Why didn't anyone tell us?””
“Because Richard Vale found out about her. He used her as leverage against our father. He threatened to expose the affair and ruin the company.””
Grace sat down heavily.
“What happened to her?””
Michael's face tightened.
“She disappeared when she was six.””
I stared at him.
“Disappeared?””
“Our father claimed she had been adopted overseas. But there were no adoption records. No travel documents. No death certificate.””
I thought of the message.
Ethan isn't the only child she took.
“Who took her?””
Michael looked at me.
“Our mother.””
Grace covered her mouth.
“No. Mom would never—”
“She believed she was protecting the family. She thought Abigail was a threat to our father's inheritance and that Richard would use her to destroy us.””
I stood.
“This is insane.””
Michael watched me carefully.
“Daniel, the medical facility where Lily was held also housed children from the genetic study. Some were adopted. Some were transferred to private families. Others disappeared.””
“How many?””
“According to the records I found, at least seven.””
I looked toward the door.
“Where are the records?””
“Lily took the originals. Vanessa found out and had her captured.””
“Then we find Lily.””
Michael reached for my wrist.
“Not yet.””
I pulled away.
“She could be hurt.””
“She is hurt. But if you go to the facility now, Vanessa will move her.””
“Then tell me where it is.””
Michael hesitated.
“An old research center outside Princeton. The public records show it closed twelve years ago. The basement is still operational.””
Grace stepped forward.
“I know the place.””
We both looked at her.
“During my recovery, I was taken there,” she said.
“Vanessa told me it was a rehabilitation clinic. I saw children in the corridors. Some of them were wearing hospital bracelets. Others were crying for their mothers.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I was drugged. I couldn't remember the address until now.””
She closed her eyes.
“It's called Bellweather House.””
Michael nodded.
“That's it.””
Price entered the room.
“I've heard enough. I'll get a warrant.””
“No,” Michael said sharply.
Price turned toward him.
“Excuse me?””
“If you send uniformed officers, Vanessa will know before they reach the gate. She has access to the dispatch system.””
Price's jaw tightened.
“Then I'll bring in a team I trust.””
Michael shook his head.
“You don't understand. She has people inside the hospital, the police, and Hayes Global. The only reason we're alive is that she hasn't decided to stop pretending.””
I stared at my brother.
“What do you suggest?””
“Get inside Bellweather House before she moves the patients.””
Price looked between us.
“Absolutely not.””
I leaned forward.
“Detective, how long will it take you to secure a warrant?””
“Several hours, possibly longer.””
“And how long will it take Vanessa to discover that Michael is alive?””
No one answered.
I looked at Grace.
“We go tonight.””
She nodded.
Price swore under his breath.
“Then I'm coming with you. But we do this properly. No one enters that building without a plan.””
For the first time since the restaurant, I felt we were moving toward something resembling justice.
Then a nurse appeared in the doorway, carrying a sealed envelope.
“Mr. Hayes? Someone left this at the front desk for you.””
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of Lily sitting in a white room, her face bruised, her wrists secured to a chair.
On the back, someone had written:
You have until midnight.
A second line had been added beneath it.
Bring Ethan to Bellweather House, or Lily dies.
I stared at the photograph.
Grace reached for my arm.
“Daniel, don't.””
I turned toward the hospital bed.
Michael was staring at the image with absolute terror.
“What's wrong?”” I asked.
He swallowed.
“That's not Lily's room.””
“What do you mean?””
He pointed at the corner of the photograph.
A small number had been printed above the door.
Room 108.
Michael's face drained of color.
“That's where they kept Abigail.””
I looked at him.
“Your sister?””
He nodded.
Then he whispered the words that made the photograph slip from my fingers.
“Daniel, if Vanessa is threatening Lily from Room 108, it means Abigail is alive.””
Grace stepped back.
“That's impossible.””
Michael stared at the photograph.
“No,” he said.
“What's impossible is that she's been there for twenty years.””
My phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
A message appeared.
Bring Ethan.
May you like
Then another.
And tell your mother her daughter wants to come home.
