Chapter 17: The Woman They Took
The photograph of Margaret was taken from inside a moving vehicle.
Detective Harris enlarged it on his tablet.
A road sign appeared in the reflection. A blue-and-white marker, partially obscured by rain.
"That's not enough to identify the route," he said.
Daniel leaned over his shoulder.
"Wait. There's a second sign.""
He pointed toward the corner of the image.
"That's an Oregon state highway marker.""
Harris nodded.
"We're sending it to the highway patrol. They'll compare the sign and surrounding landmarks.""
Dad paced the room.
"We're wasting time.""
"Then stop wasting it by shouting," Renee replied.
"We need to know what Martin wants.""
"He wants the notebook.""
"Then we use it to find Margaret.""
I looked at the photograph again.
Margaret's face was bruised, but her eyes were open.
She was alive.
That had to mean something.
I zoomed in on her hands.
"Wait.""
Harris looked up.
"What?""
"Her left wrist.""
There was a thin red thread tied around it.
I'd seen that thread before.
On the small package my mother had sent me.
"That's my mother's.""
Daniel stepped closer.
"You're sure?""
"She used to tie red thread around things she wanted me to recognize. She did it when I was little. If she gave me a book, she'd tie a thread around the spine. If she left me a gift, she'd put one around the handle.""
Renee examined the photograph.
"Could it be a signal?""
I nodded.
"Maybe.""
Harris asked for the original image and sent it to the forensic team.
While we waited, Dad finally told us the rest of the story.
Sixteen years earlier, after my mother disappeared, he'd been approached by Martin.
Martin had offered him a deal.
He would stop looking for Anna if Charles agreed to leave the Bennett family's financial affairs alone.
Dad refused.
But the next day, someone left a photograph of me outside his house.
I was twelve years old.
I was standing at a school bus stop.
On the back, someone had written:
*Children inherit their parents' mistakes.*
Dad had spent years trying to protect me without telling me why.
"Why didn't you take me somewhere else?"" I asked.
"Because they were watching every move. If I suddenly changed your school, your home, or your name, they'd know I was afraid.""
"So you let me grow up thinking my mother was dead.""
He looked devastated.
"I thought it was the only way to keep you alive.""
I turned away.
I couldn't forgive him in that moment.
But I could understand the fear that had driven him.
Then Detective Harris received an update.
The vehicle in the photograph had been identified.
It was registered to a company controlled by Martin Cole.
The last known location was an industrial property twenty miles outside Portland.
Harris contacted local officers.
"We have a possible hostage location. Nobody approaches without a coordinated plan.""
Dad nodded.
"Good.""
Then Renee spoke.
"There's one more thing. The notebook.""
She held up the black book.
"If Martin wants it, he believes it contains the location of the original ledger. But the notebook is only an index.""
Daniel looked at her.
"Then we can give him a copy.""
"Exactly.""
Dad shook his head.
"He'll know.""
"Not if we make the copy look convincing.""
I stared at the pages.
"Can we use it to make him believe we've found the ledger?""
Renee nodded.
"We can create a decoy. But the actual meeting must be controlled by law enforcement.""
Harris agreed.
"We'll arrange a monitored exchange. No one will be allowed to approach the warehouse alone.""
Dad looked at me.
"You're not going anywhere.""
"I know.""
I wasn't going to argue.
I wanted to be with Lily. I wanted my mother alive. I wanted Derek and Martin to face what they'd done.
But I also knew that the people who loved me had already spent too many years risking everything because they thought they had to act alone.
For once, I would let them do their jobs.
The plan was arranged within an hour.
Dad would carry the decoy notebook to the warehouse. Harris's team would monitor the exchange. Daniel would stay with Renee, and I would remain at the secured residence.
Then a call came from the forensic team.
They had enhanced the photograph.
The red thread around Margaret's wrist wasn't tied randomly.
It formed a small knot.
Daniel studied it.
His face changed.
"That's a number.""
"What number?"" I asked.
"Three.""
He pointed to the knot.
"Your mother used three knots to mark safe places. One knot meant danger. Two meant wait. Three meant someone could be trusted.""
Dad looked confused.
"Who could she trust?""
Daniel swallowed.
"Someone inside the building.""
Harris frowned.
"That could mean an employee.""
"Or a guard," Daniel said.
I looked at the photograph again.
Margaret wasn't simply being held.
She was trying to tell us something.
A second image arrived from the forensic team.
It showed the rear of the vehicle.
On the bumper was a small sticker.
A faded red lighthouse.
I knew it immediately.
"That's the old symbol from my mother's music box.""
Daniel looked at me.
"Your music box?""
I nodded.
"She used to draw that lighthouse on my birthday cards.""
Dad went still.
"Anna used it as a marker for the people she trusted.""
Renee leaned forward.
"Who else used it?""
Daniel answered quietly.
"Only one person.""
He looked at Dad.
"Robert Bennett.""
Evelyn, who had been silent for several minutes, suddenly stood.
"That's impossible.""
Dad turned.
"What?""
She looked at the sticker.
"Robert never used that symbol. It belonged to someone else.""
"Who?""
Evelyn's voice trembled.
"His daughter.""
Daniel frowned.
"Robert had no daughter.""
Evelyn shook her head.
"He did. She died when she was young.""
She looked at me.
"Her name was Anna.""
My mother had been given the same name as Robert's dead daughter.
I felt the room close around me.
"Why?""
Evelyn sat down.
"Because Robert adopted her.""
Nobody moved.
May you like
Then she added:
"And your mother wasn't just investigating the Bennett family. She was born into it.""
