Chapter 8: The Man Who Was Buried Twice
I didn't sleep that night.
By midnight, Detective Shaw had arranged protection for Lily and my mother. Emma's location remained unknown, and Victor Hale had disappeared.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Sarah's handwriting.
Every time I opened them, I saw the photograph of Emma.
At 2:17 a.m., Rebecca called.
"Marcus, we found Victor's vehicle.""
I sat up.
"Where?""
"At a private storage facility outside town.""
"Is he there?""
"No. But we found something you need to see.""
Daniel and I met the officers at the facility twenty minutes later.
The building was a row of metal storage units surrounded by a high fence. A security guard opened the gate after Rebecca showed her identification.
Unit 118.
The lock had already been cut.
Inside were several filing cabinets, cardboard boxes, and a wooden desk.
A large photograph of my father hung on the wall.
Robert Cole.
He was smiling in the picture, wearing the brown leather jacket he had owned for years.
I hadn't seen that jacket since his funeral.
Daniel walked toward the desk.
"Why would Victor keep this?""
I opened the nearest filing cabinet.
It contained company records, property deeds, and old bank statements.
Then I found a folder marked with my father's name.
Inside was a copy of his death certificate.
I examined it.
The date was correct.
The hospital was correct.
But the physician's signature looked unfamiliar.
I showed it to Rebecca.
"Can you verify this?""
She photographed the document.
"We'll have to contact the issuing authority.""
Daniel opened another drawer.
"Marcus, look.""
He held up a photograph.
It showed my father standing outside a restaurant with a younger man.
The man was Victor.
But there was someone else in the background.
My mother.
And she was holding a baby.
I stepped closer.
The date printed on the photograph was twelve years ago.
One year after my father supposedly died.
My hands went numb.
"That's impossible.""
Daniel turned the photograph over.
On the back, someone had written:
The family is together again.
I stared at my mother in the picture.
She looked happy.
Not grieving.
Not frightened.
Happy.
Rebecca took the photograph.
"Who is the baby?""
I looked at Daniel.
Neither of us knew.
Then I noticed a small handwritten label on the corner.
*M. Cole — Private.*
My mother's initials.
I searched the surrounding boxes.
Inside one was an old medical bracelet.
Another contained a passport.
I picked it up.
The photograph was my father's.
The name was Robert James Cole.
The birth date matched.
But the passport had been issued six months after his supposed death.
I looked at Rebecca.
"How?""
She studied it.
"This could be a forged document.""
I opened the passport.
Several pages contained entry stamps from different countries.
The most recent was dated three years ago.
Three years ago.
My father had supposedly been dead for eight.
I felt my stomach turn.
Daniel sat down heavily.
"Mom knew.""
I looked at him.
"How long?""
"I don't know.""
I continued searching.
At the bottom of the box, I found a small audio recorder.
It had a label.
*Sarah — Final Conversation.*
I pressed the play button.
There was a burst of static.
Then Sarah's voice.
Weak.
Tired.
But unmistakable.
"Robert, I can't keep doing this.""
My entire body froze.
A man's voice answered.
"You don't have to. Just sign the agreement.""
Sarah began coughing.
"I won't let you take my children.""
The man sighed.
"Sarah, you're making this harder than it needs to be.""
I recognized the voice.
It was my father's.
I stepped backward.
Daniel whispered, "No.""
The recording continued.
"You already know the truth about Marcus," my father said.
"You know he isn't the only person who can claim those children.""
Sarah replied, "He is their father.""
My father's voice became colder.
"Then why did you hide the paternity results?""
I stopped breathing.
There was a pause.
Then Sarah spoke.
"Because I knew what you would do.""
A door slammed in the background.
The recording ended.
I stared at the recorder.
My father had been alive when Sarah was dying.
He had been in the hospital.
He had known about Emma.
And he had threatened Sarah.
Rebecca took the recorder.
"We'll have this professionally examined.""
I looked at her.
"Don't tell me this could be fabricated.""
"I'm telling you we need evidence.""
I turned toward the filing cabinets.
There had to be more.
I found a second audio file on a small memory card.
This one was dated four years earlier.
I inserted it into the recorder.
A woman's voice began speaking.
My mother's.
"Robert, you promised me you would leave the children alone.""
A man's voice answered.
"After everything I've done for this family?""
"You died. We buried you.""
He laughed.
"That was the point.""
I felt my knees weaken.
My mother continued.
"Marcus thinks you're dead.""
"Let him.""
"And Daniel?""
"Daniel knows enough to keep quiet.""
A pause followed.
Then my father said something that made my blood run cold.
"Once the baby is transferred, I'll have control of the trust. Vanessa can handle Marcus. She knows how to make him believe anything.""
The recording continued.
My mother whispered, "What if Sarah tells him?""
"She won't.""
"How can you be sure?""
My father's voice became almost gentle.
"Because she's dying, Margaret.""
I stopped the recording.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Rebecca quietly took the device from my hand.
"Mr. Cole, we need to leave.""
"Why?""
She pointed toward the storage unit entrance.
A vehicle had stopped outside.
Its headlights were shining directly into the building.
A man stepped out.
He was older, with silver hair and a slight limp.
He wore the same brown leather jacket from the photograph.
Daniel stood up.
I couldn't move.
The man looked directly at me.
Then he smiled.
"Hello, Marcus.""
My father.
Robert Cole.
The man I had buried eleven years earlier.
He took one step forward.
"You're looking well, son.""
I felt something inside me collapse.
"You're alive.""
He nodded.
"Obviously.""
I stared at him.
"You let us bury you.""
"I had my reasons.""
"My mother cried at your funeral.""
"Your mother is a very convincing actress.""
Daniel moved toward him.
"You let us believe you were dead.""
My father looked at him.
"And you let me keep believing you were smart enough to stay out of this.""
Rebecca raised her weapon.
"Robert Cole, don't move.""
My father glanced at her.
Then he looked back at me.
"You're making a terrible mistake, Marcus.""
"Where is Emma?""
His expression changed.
For the first time, the smile disappeared.
"Your daughter is safe.""
"Where?""
He reached into his jacket and removed a small photograph.
It showed Emma standing beside a woman.
The woman was Vanessa.
But Vanessa was not looking at the camera.
She was looking at Emma with an expression that frightened me more than anything I had seen that day.
My father placed the photograph on the desk.
"Before you find her, there's something you need to understand.""
May you like
He leaned closer.
"Emma isn't the only child Sarah gave birth to.""
