Chapter 9: The Woman Behind the Name
The laughter disappeared as quickly as it came.
Marcus stood at the mouth of the tunnel, staring into the darkness.
“Everybody stay together.””
Richard helped Claire to her feet.
Margaret held tightly to the brown ledger.
Ethan looked at the empty metal box.
The cassette recorder was gone.
So was the woman who had taken it.
Or whoever she really was.
Claire wiped tears from her face.
“I told you. That wasn't Catherine.””
Marcus turned.
“Then who was she?””
“I don't know.””
“You said she was Catherine's sister.””
“She was.””
“What was her name?””
Claire hesitated.
“Rebecca.””
Ethan frowned.
“Rebecca Morgan?””
Claire nodded.
“She died twenty years ago.””
Richard looked at his wife.
“How?””
“Car accident.””
Ethan looked toward the tunnel.
“Convenient.””
Claire shook her head.
“It wasn't an accident.””
Everyone became still.
“What do you mean?”” Margaret asked.
Claire swallowed.
“Catherine told me.””
“When?””
“Years ago.””
“She said Rebecca was investigating Victor.””
Marcus looked toward the darkness.
“Then Victor didn't kill Rebecca?””
Claire stared at him.
“I didn't say that.””
“You think he did?””
“I think Catherine believed he did.””
Richard suddenly remembered something.
“My father knew Rebecca.””
Margaret turned.
“What?””
Richard nodded.
“She used to visit Dad's office.””
“When?””
“Before I was married.””
Margaret stared at her son.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because Dad told me never to say her name.””
“Why?””
Richard looked frightened.
“He said Victor was listening.””
Ethan lifted his phone.
“Then maybe Victor wasn't the only one.””
He showed them the screen.
The recording from the house was still there.
Not the stolen cassette.
A digital copy.
He had managed to capture part of the audio before everything went dark.
He pressed play.
Static.
Then Edward's voice.
“…if Rebecca is right, then Victor is not the one controlling the operation.””
Margaret's eyes widened.
Richard leaned closer.
Edward continued.
“He has been taking orders from someone else.””
Static.
Then Daniel Cross.
“Who?””
Edward answered:
“I don't know yet.””
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Marcus took a breath.
“So Victor had someone above him.””
Ethan nodded.
“And Edward was close to finding out who.””
Claire looked toward the grave.
“Then maybe that woman took the recording because she doesn't want us to hear the rest.””
“Maybe,” Ethan said.
Richard looked at the ledger.
“There has to be more.””
He opened it.
The pages had been carefully numbered.
One through three hundred eighty-seven.
Several pages were missing.
Ethan turned them.
“Someone tore these out.””
Marcus looked at Richard.
“When?””
Richard frowned.
“I don't know.””
Margaret gently touched the paper.
“Edward always wrote dates at the bottom.””
Ethan checked.
“This page…”
He stopped.
The date was eleven months earlier.
The day before Edward died.
And underneath it, one sentence.
*IF VICTOR COMES, GIVE HIM THE WRONG BOOK.*
Richard's face went white.
“He knew Victor would come.””
“Yes,” Ethan said.
“And he prepared a decoy.””
“Yes.””
Richard stared at the pages.
“Then my father knew exactly what was going to happen.””
Marcus corrected him.
“He suspected.””
“No.””
Richard shook his head.
“He knew.””
A distant engine roared outside.
Everyone froze.
Marcus moved toward the tunnel exit.
“Someone's coming.””
Jake looked through the opening.
“Two SUVs.””
Luis joined him.
“Black.””
Richard's face tightened.
“Victor's men.””
Marcus shook his head.
“No.””
“How do you know?””
“Because Victor doesn't travel with two vehicles.””
Ethan looked at him.
“You think it's police?””
“Maybe.””
Then headlights flashed across the cemetery.
Red and blue.
Marcus exhaled.
“Police.””
Richard nearly sagged with relief.
But Ethan wasn't relieved.
“Why would they be here already?””
Marcus looked at the timestamp on his phone.
“I sent the files.””
“Not the location.””
Ethan's expression changed.
“Unless…”
He looked toward the ledger.
“Someone else called them.””
They climbed out of the tunnel.
Several police vehicles were parked near the church.
A detective stepped toward them.
Mid-forties.
Gray jacket.
Calm expression.
“Mrs. Hayes?””
Margaret nodded.
The detective looked at Marcus.
“Detective Aaron Bell.””
Marcus shook his hand.
“Marcus Cole.””
Bell glanced toward Ethan.
“You sent us a file.””
Ethan nodded.
“Yes.””
“Then we have a serious problem.””
“What?””
Bell held up a photograph.
“This came from an anonymous caller.””
It showed the Hayes estate.
The four bikers arriving.
Margaret stepping from Marcus's truck.
Richard.
Samuel.
Everyone.
Taken from across the street.
Marcus stared.
“When?””
“Three hours ago.””
Ethan's face tightened.
“That was before we knew Victor was watching.””
Bell nodded.
“We believe someone has been monitoring your family for months.””
Margaret whispered:
“Why?””
Bell looked at her.
“Because your husband reopened a case that was buried thirty years ago.””
Thomas.
Robert.
Victor.
All of it.
Marcus asked:
“What case?””
Bell opened a folder.
“Missing persons.””
Margaret frowned.
“People connected to Hayes Holdings?””
“Not exactly.””
Bell handed Ethan the folder.
“People connected to Robert Hayes.””
Ethan read the first page.
There were photographs.
Employees.
Accountants.
Drivers.
Lawyers.
One by one, their faces were marked with dates.
Missing.
Dead.
Disappeared.
Then Ethan saw something.
“Wait.””
He pointed.
“This woman.””
Bell looked.
“Rebecca Morgan?””
Ethan nodded.
“Her death was listed as accidental.””
Bell shook his head.
“Officially.””
“Unofficially?””
“We reopened it six years ago.””
“Why?””
“Because the evidence didn't fit.””
Claire stepped closer.
“What evidence?””
Bell looked at her.
“The brakes on her car had been cut.””
Silence.
Claire covered her mouth.
“Then Catherine was right.””
Marcus looked at Bell.
“Where is Catherine now?””
“We don't know.””
Bell frowned.
“Who's Catherine?””
Everyone looked at one another.
Ethan answered carefully.
“Someone connected to Rebecca.””
Bell immediately became suspicious.
“What's her full name?””
“Catherine Morgan.””
Bell went still.
“What?””
“You know her?””
Bell's expression changed.
“She died.””
Marcus stared.
“When?””
“Eight years ago.””
Claire whispered:
“No.””
Bell looked at her.
“Mrs. Hayes, I need you to understand.””
“No.””
Claire shook her head.
“I saw her alive.””
“Where?””
“At Edward's house.””
Bell's face became serious.
“That's impossible.””
“Why?””
“Because Catherine Morgan was found dead eight years ago.””
The room seemed to tilt.
Marcus looked at Ethan.
Ethan looked at the ledger.
Something wasn't adding up.
Then Bell said:
“And Rebecca died twenty years ago.””
Claire shook her head.
“They were sisters.””
Bell slowly closed the folder.
“No.””
Claire stared at him.
“No?””
“Rebecca Morgan was an only child.””
Nobody spoke.
Marcus felt a chill.
He looked at Claire.
“You said Catherine and Rebecca were sisters.””
“Yes.””
“You were certain.””
Claire nodded.
“I saw the family records.””
Ethan stepped closer.
“Where?””
Claire looked confused.
“In Victor's files.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“Victor's files?””
Claire nodded.
“Years ago. Richard showed them to me.””
Richard stared at her.
“I did?””
“You did.””
“I've never seen anything like that.””
Claire shook her head.
“You don't remember.””
Richard's face tightened.
“What don't I remember?””
Claire stepped closer.
“The night your father died.””
Richard recoiled.
“I remember.””
“No.””
Claire's eyes filled.
“You don't.””
She reached into her coat.
Pulled out a small envelope.
“Edward gave me this.””
Margaret stared.
“You had that the whole time?””
“I was afraid to open it.””
Marcus took it.
Inside was a photograph.
A hospital room.
Edward lying unconscious.
Margaret beside him.
Richard near the door.
And behind the glass—
A woman.
Ethan zoomed in.
It was the same woman they'd seen at the house.
The supposed Catherine.
But something was wrong.
The nurse's badge clearly read:
*Rebecca Morgan.*
Richard stared.
“That's impossible.””
Ethan looked at Bell.
“Can you verify this?””
Bell nodded.
He studied the photo.
Then went pale.
“I know that face.””
“Rebecca?””
“No.””
“Who?””
Bell looked at Claire.
“Dr. Elena Morgan.””
Claire shook her head.
“That isn't possible.””
“Why?””
“She died before I met Richard.””
Bell turned the photograph over.
There was a handwritten date.
Eleven months earlier.
The night Edward died.
Underneath was a sentence.
*SHE IS NOT WHO YOU THINK.*
Margaret's hand covered her mouth.
Then she noticed another detail.
On the hospital bracelet around Edward's wrist was a room number.
417.
She looked at Bell.
“Room 417.””
Bell nodded.
“So?””
“My husband was never in room 417.””
Ethan looked up.
“Then where was he?””
Margaret shook her head.
“He was in 302.””
Bell's expression changed.
“Are you sure?””
“I visited him.””
“Every night?””
“Every night.””
Bell looked at the photograph again.
“Then someone moved him.””
Marcus frowned.
“Why?””
Bell turned the photograph over again.
“Because room 417 wasn't a patient room.””
“What was it?””
Bell swallowed.
“An old surgical recovery room.””
Ethan stared at him.
“Why would Edward be there?””
Bell didn't answer.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Detective.””
Bell looked up.
“Tell us.””
“There was another patient in that room that night.””
“Who?””
Bell hesitated.
“Robert Hayes.””
Margaret's face went white.
“That's impossible.””
“According to the hospital records, Robert Hayes was brought in under an alias.””
“What alias?””
Bell looked at the page.
“Victor Hale.””
The room went silent.
Richard staggered backward.
“No.””
Marcus caught his shoulder.
Bell continued.
“Here's the strange part.””
“What?””
“Victor Hale's admission was recorded eleven months ago.””
Ethan frowned.
“That's impossible. He's been using that identity for years.””
Bell nodded.
“Exactly.””
He turned the page.
“The records show Victor Hale died that same night.””
Margaret whispered:
“Then who came to my house?””
Nobody answered.
A police officer approached Bell and whispered something.
Bell's face changed.
“What?””
The officer pointed toward the cemetery road.
Bell stepped away.
A second later, he returned.
“We have a problem.””
Marcus looked at him.
“What?””
“The two SUVs are gone.””
“When?””
“Five minutes ago.””
Marcus looked toward the road.
“No tire tracks?””
“None.””
Ethan frowned.
“They didn't leave.””
Marcus understood.
“They switched vehicles.””
The four bikers exchanged a glance.
Then they heard an engine.
Not outside.
Inside the cemetery.
A motorcycle rolled slowly between the graves.
Marcus reached toward his weapon.
But the rider stopped beneath the oak.
It was Richard.
He removed his helmet.
Blood still stained his forehead.
His eyes were wild.
“Mom!””
Margaret stepped forward.
“Richard?””
He pointed behind him.
“Get away from the church.””
“Why?””
“Because I found Claire's captors.””
Claire stared.
“Where?””
Richard looked toward the church basement.
“They're underneath it.””
Marcus frowned.
“What did you find?””
Richard held up a photograph.
It showed a group of men standing inside a warehouse.
Victor was there.
Samuel was there.
Daniel Cross was there.
And Edward Hayes.
But there was one more person.
A woman.
Margaret looked closely.
Then dropped the ledger.
“No.””
Marcus picked up the photograph.
“Who?””
Margaret whispered:
“My sister.””
Everyone stared at her.
“You never told us you had a sister,” Ethan said.
“I don't.””
“Then who is that?””
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
“I had a twin.””
Marcus looked again.
Same eyes.
Same smile.
Same face.
Except the woman in the photograph was much younger.
Ethan turned the photograph over.
A date.
Thirty years ago.
And beneath it:
*PROJECT MARGARET — FINAL SUBJECT.*
Marcus looked at Margaret.
“What's Project Margaret?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Richard's voice cracked.
“I do.””
Everyone turned.
He stared at his mother.
“They weren't trying to steal your house.””
“What were they trying to steal?””
Richard swallowed.
“Your identity.””
Margaret stared.
“What?””
Richard looked at the old photograph.
“You weren't supposed to survive.””
The words froze her.
Richard continued.
“Dad spent thirty years protecting you from the truth.””
He looked toward the church.
“And tonight, I finally found out why.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“Tell us.””
Richard's eyes filled.
“Because you weren't Margaret Hayes.””
Margaret looked horrified.
“Who am I?””
Richard whispered:
“The woman who died thirty years ago was Margaret.””
He pointed at the photograph.
“And the woman Victor has been searching for all these years…”
He looked directly at his mother.
“Was you.””
A gunshot cracked from the church basement.
Everyone ducked.
Bell shouted for his officers.
Marcus pulled Margaret behind a stone wall.
Richard dropped beside her.
Ethan grabbed the ledger.
Another shot.
Then another.
And from inside the church came a woman's voice.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Margaret.””
She screamed.
May you like
The voice continued.
“It's time you remembered who you really are.””
