Chapter 10: The Man Who Claimed to Be Richard Hale
Officer Cole was already moving before he finished explaining the phone call.
“Sergeant Mills is taking Ethan to another location,” he said.
“I'm sending backup to intercept her.””
Daniel grabbed his jacket.
“I'm coming with you.””
“No,” Cole replied.
“You're a potential witness in an active investigation, and someone has already tried to shoot you tonight.””
“Someone is threatening my brother.””
“Which is exactly why you need to stay alive long enough to help us.””
Daniel slammed his palm against the desk.
“I spent twenty-six years believing my brother was dead. Then I discovered I had a sister I never knew existed. I'm not sitting in a room while someone takes Ethan.””
I stepped between them.
“Daniel, he's right about one thing. We can't help Ethan if we get ourselves killed.””
Daniel stared at me, his jaw clenched.
Then he nodded reluctantly.
Cole turned to me.
“Clara, I need you to tell me everything about Richard's letter and the original register. If we can establish who altered those records, we may be able to identify the person impersonating him.””
“The letter said Richard believed someone would eventually expose the truth. He specifically warned me to keep Ethan away from Victoria.””
“Did he mention Graham Whitmore?””
“No.””
“Anyone else?””
I thought about the photographs, the hospital records, and the words written on the back of the picture.
The dead boy is alive.
Then I remembered something Richard had said during my first month at the mansion.
I had been helping him organize old business files when he suddenly asked whether I believed a person could become someone else simply by changing their name.
I had laughed.
“Only in movies, sir.””
He hadn't laughed back.
“Names can be changed, Clara. Records can be changed. But the truth has a habit of surviving.””
At the time, I thought he was speaking about business.
Now I wasn't so sure.
“There's someone we haven't investigated,” I told Cole.
“Richard's personal attorney.””
Cole looked up.
“Who?””
“Martin Shaw. He handled Richard's estate after his death. He had access to every document in the mansion, including the medical records.””
Daniel's expression changed.
“Martin was the man who told my adoptive parents that I had been declared dead.””
Cole pulled out his phone.
“Do you know where he is?””
“His office is downtown,” I said.
“But I haven't seen him in months.””
Cole immediately called his supervisor and requested a warrant to search Shaw's office.
While he spoke, Daniel moved toward the photographs on the wall.
He lifted the picture of my father and studied it closely.
“There's something wrong with this.””
“What?”” I asked.
He pointed to the background.
The hospital clock behind them showed 3:15.
“The photograph was supposedly taken in 1999,” he said.
“But that clock was removed when the maternity ward was renovated in 1998.””
I stared at him.
“Are you sure?””
“My adoptive father worked for the hospital's maintenance contractor. I grew up hearing about the renovation.””
Cole ended his call.
“Then the photograph may have been staged.””
Daniel turned it over.
Beneath the original handwriting was a faint impression, as though someone had written another message on a sheet of paper placed above it.
I angled the photograph toward the desk lamp.
Letters slowly emerged.
*M.S. — ORIGINAL REGISTER DELIVERED — 11:40 P.M.*
“Martin Shaw,” I whispered.
Cole photographed the writing.
“That's enough to justify a conversation.””
His phone rang again.
This time, it was Sergeant Mills.
He answered on speaker.
“Tell me Ethan is safe.””
“We're moving him now,” Mills replied. Her voice sounded strained.
“But a vehicle has been following us for the last five minutes.””
“What kind of vehicle?””
“Black SUV. No front plate.””
Daniel and I exchanged a look.
Graham's vehicle.
“Don't stop,” Cole ordered.
“Head toward the nearest staffed police station. I'll send marked units to meet you.””
“Understood.””
The call ended.
Cole grabbed his coat.
“We're leaving.””
As we hurried toward the stairwell, my phone vibrated.
An incoming call.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“Clara Bennett?””
The voice was male, smooth, and unmistakably familiar.
“Who is this?””
“You've spent the evening asking questions about Richard Hale.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who are you?””
A quiet chuckle came through the speaker.
“Someone who has been waiting a very long time for you to open that envelope.””
“Are you Richard?””
Silence.
Then the man replied, “Richard is a name that has served me well.””
I stopped walking.
Cole turned toward me.
The caller continued.
“You have something that belongs to me, Clara. The hospital records. The photographs. Perhaps even the original letter.””
“Where is Ethan?””
“Safe, for the moment.””
“If you touch him—”
“You'll do what? Call the police?””
I looked at Cole.
The caller laughed again.
“Your officer has already made enough mistakes to ruin his career. He knows that. Ask him what happened to the first body they found.””
Cole's face went pale.
I tightened my grip on the phone.
“What body?””
The caller's voice dropped.
“Your father’s.””
The world seemed to stop.
“Daniel Bennett is dead?””
“No,” the man replied.
“But the body buried under his name belongs to someone else.””
The call disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
Cole said nothing.
I turned toward him slowly.
“You knew.””
He rubbed his forehead.
“Clara, I need you to understand something.””
“No. You need to answer me.””
He took a long breath.
“Three years ago, a body was recovered from the river. The clothing and identification matched Daniel Bennett. There was no usable dental record, and the face had been badly damaged.””
“Yet you signed the report.””
“Yes.””
“Who told you it was my father?””
“Martin Shaw brought the identification documents. He said the family had confirmed them.””
“Which family?””
Cole looked at the floor.
“Victoria Hale.””
I felt sick.
“Why would she identify my father?””
“Because she claimed she knew him.””
Daniel stepped forward.
“Then the body might have been the missing child.””
Cole shook his head.
“The remains were identified as an adult male.””
“Someone could have used my father's identity to cover up another death,” I said.
“Yes,” Cole admitted.
“And that's why I reopened the case when the hospital records surfaced.””
I wanted to hate him.
Part of me did.
But he had finally admitted what he knew, and we were running out of time.
We reached the parking garage.
Cole's phone rang again.
A uniformed officer had found Sergeant Mills's vehicle abandoned beside the highway.
There was no sign of Ethan.
No sign of Mills.
Only a broken rear window and a small piece of white fabric caught beneath the passenger door.
Ethan's shirt.
Daniel made a sound of pure anguish.
I grabbed his arm before he could collapse.
Cole immediately radioed for an emergency search.
Then my phone vibrated again.
A photograph appeared on the screen.
Ethan sat in a wooden chair in a dimly lit room, his hands resting on his knees. He appeared unharmed, but his eyes were red from crying.
Behind him hung the enormous family portrait from the Hale mansion.
The message beneath the photograph contained a single sentence.
*Bring Daniel to the house where he was born, or the boy will learn what happened to his twin.*
Daniel stared at the image.
Then he whispered, “I know that room.””
I turned toward him.
“Where?””
He looked at me, tears gathering in his eyes.
“The old Hale estate. The house Richard sold before Ethan was born.””
May you like
He swallowed.
“That's where I lived for the first two years of my life.””
