Chapter 6
I called back.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
Daniel grabbed the dashboard.
“Police?”
“Already moving.”
I called the detective who had contacted me after my 911 report.
Detective Lena Ortiz.
I gave her Robert’s demand.
The trust amendment.
The three properties Rachel had texted moments before the call was hijacked.
Ortiz told me not to go anywhere alone.
I agreed.
Then I immediately drove toward my house.
Daniel stared at me.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting the document.”
“The police said—”
“I heard them.”
“You’re going to give Robert exactly what he wants?”
“I’m going to make sure I know what he wants.”
Twenty minutes later we were in my study.
I opened the wall safe behind a framed family photograph.
The irony almost killed me.
Rachel.
Ethan.
Me.
All smiling on a hiking trail.
Three people who thought they knew one another.
Inside were passports, insurance papers, my father’s watch, and the trust file.
I pulled out the amendment.
Daniel read over my shoulder.
“‘Biological issue of James Miller.’”
“Yes.”
“And independent genetic verification before distribution.”
“Yes.”
“Why did your grandfather add that?”
“I never knew.”
I looked at the date.
Three months before his death.
Nine months before Noah was born.
About nine months before Ethan.
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
Daniel pointed at the bottom.
“There’s a witness.”
The signature was messy.
M. Collins.
Margaret Collins.
Rachel’s mother.
I had seen the document a hundred times.
I had never paid attention to the witness.
“Why was Margaret witnessing my grandfather’s trust?”
Daniel asked.
I didn’t know.
Then I remembered something my father had once mentioned.
Margaret had worked private nursing before joining the hospital full-time.
She cared for elderly patients.
Including, briefly, my grandfather after his cancer diagnosis.
I called Margaret.
The number that had called Rachel earlier went straight to voicemail.
I tried again.
Nothing.
Then my doorbell rang.
Daniel and I froze.
I checked the camera.
An elderly woman stood outside.
Gray coat.
Gray hair.
Face thinner than I remembered.
Margaret.
I opened the door.
She walked past me without asking.
“You should not have come here,” she said.
I stared.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Daniel stepped from the hallway.
Margaret looked at him.
“You aged badly.”
Daniel blinked.
“Nice to see you too.”
I slammed the door.
“Where is Ethan?”
“I don’t know.”
“Robert took him.”
“I know.”
“Where?”
“If I knew, I would tell you.”
“Why should I believe one word from you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
At least someone in this family finally understood.
Margaret looked at the document in my hand.
“You found it.”
“You witnessed this.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Walter knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That Robert was trying to use Sarah’s baby to steal the trust.”
My hands curled around the paper.
“How?”
“Your grandfather listened.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
She looked tired.
Older than death.
“Robert worked for him.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Your father-in-law handled security and private investigations for Walter during the last year of his life.”
“Robert?”
“Yes.”
“He told Rachel he was in prison.”
“He was. Earlier. Then he worked under another name after he got out.”
Daniel shook his head.
“This family needs a spreadsheet.”
Margaret ignored him.
“Robert discovered the trust before Walter died. He learned that if James had a biological child, the child would inherit.”
“So he planned to fake Noah as mine.”
“Yes.”
“Why Noah?”
“Because Sarah was pregnant.”
“And Ethan?”
Margaret’s face changed.
“Ethan complicated everything.”
I felt myself harden.
“Explain.”
“Rachel discovered she was pregnant several weeks after Sarah.”
“With my child?”
“Yes.”
I stared at her.
“You’re sure?”
“I ran the first prenatal bloodwork myself.”
“Could Daniel have been the father?”
“No.”
Daniel looked offended and relieved at the same time.
Margaret continued.
“Rachel and Daniel’s affair ended before Ethan was conceived.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“That timeline is possible.”
I looked at him.
“You were really good at keeping track.”
He looked down.
Margaret said, “Robert found out Rachel was pregnant with your actual biological child. Suddenly his plan became more difficult. A fake heir could be challenged by a real heir.”
“So what did he do?”
“He pressured Sarah to deliver in secret. He wanted Noah registered under Rachel’s name.”
My stomach turned.
“What?”
“He planned to make Noah legally appear to be Rachel’s firstborn child with you.”
“And when Ethan was born?”
“Robert planned to erase him.”
The room went silent.
I stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
Margaret held my gaze.
“He arranged for Ethan to be adopted.”
My throat closed.
“No.”
“Rachel didn’t know until after delivery.”
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I were.”
“She brought him home.”
“Because I stopped it.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You want a medal?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Margaret sank into a chair.
For the first time, she looked less like a ghost and more like an exhausted old woman.
“Sarah went into labor first. Noah was born. Robert had already paid someone in records to create documents listing Rachel as the mother.”
“And me as the father.”
“Yes.”
“Without me there?”
“You were supposedly out of town for work.”
I remembered.
A project in Colorado Springs.
Rachel had insisted I stay because her Arizona trip would last another week.
Margaret continued.
“Then Rachel unexpectedly went into labor ten days later. Ethan was born.”
“My son.”
“Yes.”
“Sarah found out what Robert was doing.”
“She already knew some of it. But not the adoption plan for Ethan. When she learned that, she panicked.”
“She was going to tell me.”
“Yes.”
“And then she died.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“I believe Robert caused the crash.”
“Believe?”
“I couldn’t prove it.”
“So you faked your death four years ago because—”
“Because I finally found evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“A recording Sarah made.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“What was on it?”
“Robert admitting the plan.”
“Where is it?”
“He found out I had it.”
“So you disappeared.”
“I staged a medical emergency and left with help from an old friend.”
I stared.
“And you let Rachel believe you were dead?”
“No.”
That stopped me.
“What?”
“Rachel knew.”
Another lie.
Of course she knew.
“She helped you?”
“Yes.”
I laughed until my chest hurt.
“My wife attended your funeral knowing you were alive.”
“It was necessary.”
“Was crying necessary?”
Margaret flinched.
“She was protecting you and Ethan.”
“No. Protection without consent is control.”
Margaret had no answer.
I held up the trust amendment.
“Why does Robert want this?”
“Because the original is different from the copy held by the bank.”
“How?”
“There’s a second page.”
I looked at the file.
There was no second page.
Margaret’s face fell.
“It’s gone.”
“What was on it?”
“A contingency clause.”
“What contingency?”
“If evidence of fraud concerning the child’s identity emerged, the entire trust reverted to a charitable foundation.”
Daniel understood first.
“So nobody gets the three million.”
Margaret nodded.
“Exactly.”
“And Robert wants the original destroyed so he can challenge the bank copy.”
“Yes.”
I stared at the amendment.
“Why hasn’t the second page ever been in my file?”
“It was.”
“When?”
“Eight years ago.”
“Who had access?”
Margaret looked toward the staircase.
“You.”
“No.”
“Rachel.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“What did she do with it?”
“I don’t know.”
I was about to answer when my phone rang.
Detective Ortiz.
“We found your mother’s vehicle on a rural road outside Evergreen.”
“My mother’s car?”
“Yes. Abandoned.”
“What about Ethan?”
“No sign yet.”
“Any blood?”
“No.”
I exhaled.
Then Ortiz continued.
“But we found a cell phone in the ditch.”
“Whose?”
“Your wife’s.”
My stomach dropped.
“There was a video recording open.”
“What video?”
“We’re sending you a still image now. Tell me if you recognize the location.”
A photo arrived.
A dim room.
Concrete walls.
A metal chair.
Rachel sitting in it.
Her hands were bound.
Behind her stood Robert.
And beside Robert stood another person.
A young man.
Maybe twenty-five.
Margaret gasped when she saw him.
I turned.
“You know him.”
Her lips trembled.
“That’s impossible.”
“Who is he?”
She touched the screen.
“That’s Sarah’s boyfriend.”
Daniel frowned.
“Noah’s father?”
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
I stared at her.
“Then who?”
May you like
She looked at me.
“Your half brother.”
