Chapter 4 - THE LETTER BEHIND THE WALLFor the next hour, Adrian barely spoke.
Mara understood why.
A father can prepare himself for almost any accusation.
Bad judgment.
Neglect.
Failure.
But not for the possibility that the child he loves came from a life he never knew existed.
Owen was asleep upstairs under the supervision of two federal agents.
Adrian sat in his office staring at the photograph.
“Dates can be altered,” Mara said.
“Yes.”
“The file could be fake.”
“Yes.”
“Someone wants you confused.”
“Yes.”
He gave the same answer every time.
But his face said something different.
He believed the picture might be real.
Mara finally asked the question.
“Were you there when Owen was born?”
Adrian looked up.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Claire was already gone.”
Mara frowned.
“Then who told you he was your son?”
“Cassandra.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Adrian stood and paced toward the window.
“Three years after Claire disappeared, Cassandra called me.”
“Out of nowhere?”
“She said Claire had contacted her.”
“Claire was alive?”
“According to Cassandra.”
“What happened?”
“She gave me an address. A small private clinic two hours north.”
“And Owen was there.”
“Yes.”
“How old?”
“Three days.”
Mara stared at him.
“You believed Claire had returned just to give birth?”
“I believed she had been hiding because people wanted to kill her.”
“Did you see her?”
“No.”
“Speak to her?”
“No.”
“DNA test?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Adrian looked at her.
“He is my biological son.”
Mara’s confusion deepened.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“The test only proved I’m his father.”
She understood.
“It didn’t prove Claire was his mother.”
“No.”
Mara slowly sat.
“Did you ever test that?”
“Why would I?”
Because nobody expects to need proof that a dead wife delivered their child.
Mara looked at the old photograph.
If Owen had been alive four years ago, then where had he been for three years?
And why had someone changed his age?
A knock sounded.
Thomas entered.
“We found something else in the wall.”
He carried an envelope.
Mara recognized the handwriting before he said anything.
Emily.
Her name appeared on the front.
MARA.
Her legs weakened.
“Where?”
“Behind the metal box.”
She took it.
The envelope had already been opened.
Probably years ago.
Inside was a folded letter.
Mara read.
Mara,
If you’re reading this, then I couldn’t finish what I started.
Please don’t waste your life trying to find me.
Mara laughed bitterly through sudden tears.
“Too late.”
She continued.
There is a child involved. Maybe many children.
Claire is trying to expose the people doing this, but she doesn’t know who she can trust anymore.
Neither do I.
If someone tells you Claire is crazy, don’t believe them.
If someone tells you Cassandra is innocent, don’t believe that either.
Mara stopped.
Adrian moved beside her.
She kept reading.
The most important thing is the baby.
He was supposed to disappear.
We stopped it.
Claire made a choice I don’t think Adrian will ever forgive.
But she made it because she thought it would keep him alive.
Mara looked at Adrian.
His face had lost all color.
She continued.
There’s something else.
Shepherd is not one person.
It’s a name they pass around.
That’s why nobody can find him.
If one Shepherd falls, another becomes Shepherd.
Don’t trust the charity.
Don’t trust the hospital.
And please, Mara, if you ever meet the little boy, don’t let them take him back.
Mara lowered the letter.
“The little boy.”
Adrian stared toward the ceiling.
“Owen.”
“There’s more.”
At the bottom, Emily had written one final line.
The proof is where Claire first lied to her husband.
Adrian took the letter.
“What does that mean?”
Mara shook her head.
“You know your marriage better than I do.”
He looked almost offended.
“Claire lied to me plenty of times.”
“Helpful.”
“She hid birthday presents.”
“No.”
“She claimed she liked my mother’s Christmas pudding.”
“Still no.”
“She told me she hadn’t scratched my car.”
Mara stared.
“Adrian.”
“I’m thinking.”
Thomas suddenly spoke.
“First major lie?”
Adrian became still.
The humor disappeared.
“What?”
Thomas repeated the phrase.
“Where Claire first lied to you about something important.”
Adrian looked toward the back of the property.
“The guesthouse.”
Mara followed his gaze.
“What happened there?”
“Six years ago, before we married, I caught Claire treating a teenage girl there.”
“Treating?”
“Stitches.”
“She was a nurse.”
“The girl had been beaten.”
Mara’s expression changed.
“Claire told me she found her near the highway.”
“But?”
“Later I learned the girl came from Haven House.”
Thomas picked up his radio.
“I’ll secure the guesthouse.”
Adrian stopped him.
“No transmissions.”
Thomas understood.
If the house network had been compromised, radios might be too.
They crossed the backyard on foot.
The guesthouse had not been used in years.
Dust covered the furniture.
Adrian went directly to the bathroom.
“Claire treated her here.”
Mara searched the room.
Nothing obvious.
Then she remembered Emily’s wording.
Where Claire first lied.
Not where she treated the girl.
Where she lied.
Mara stepped backward into the hallway.
“Where were you standing when she told you the highway story?”
Adrian pointed.
“Kitchen.”
They searched there.
Cabinets.
Drawers.
Floorboards.
Nothing.
Mara leaned against the counter.
Her fingers touched the underside.
Tape.
She crouched.
A small key had been taped beneath the granite.
Adrian stared.
“That’s Claire.”
Mara smiled faintly.
“You recognize her hiding style?”
“She once hid my anniversary watch inside a bag of frozen peas.”
Thomas almost smiled.
Almost.
The key opened a lockbox hidden beneath a loose floor tile.
Inside were paper records.
No electronics.
Claire had been smart.
Old-fashioned evidence could not be hacked.
Adrian opened the first file.
Donations.
Large ones.
Families paying Haven House hundreds of thousands of dollars.
The second file contained birth records.
The third contained photographs.
Then Mara found Cassandra.
A younger Cassandra stood beside a doctor.
Behind them was a sign.
ST. MATTHEW’S WOMEN’S CLINIC.
The same clinic where Adrian had found Owen.
Mara looked at him.
“She worked there?”
“No.”
Another picture.
Cassandra carrying a baby.
Another.
Cassandra exchanging an envelope with a couple.
Thomas whispered, “We have her.”
Adrian kept flipping through documents.
Then he stopped.
A marriage certificate.
Adrian Cole.
Claire Bennett.
Except the date was wrong.
It showed them marrying two years before their actual wedding.
Mara frowned.
“What is that?”
“Fake.”
He turned the page.
Another marriage certificate.
Different man.
Same woman.
Claire Bennett.
Thomas leaned closer.
“Who’s the husband?”
Adrian read the name.
“Jonathan Reed.”
Mara searched her memory.
“Do you know him?”
“No.”
Thomas did.
His face changed immediately.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“I know that name.”
Adrian looked up.
“From where?”
Thomas swallowed.
“Jonathan Reed was an FBI agent.”
Adrian froze.
“He disappeared seven years ago while investigating illegal adoption networks.”
Mara felt every hair rise on her arms.
“Was he ever found?”
“No.”
Adrian looked again at Claire’s photograph.
His wife had been married before him.
To an agent investigating the same organization.
And she had never said a word.
Thomas reached deeper into the lockbox.
His fingers touched a final envelope.
This one was addressed to Adrian.
He opened it.
Inside was a single handwritten sentence.
Adrian read it twice.
Then a third time.
Mara moved beside him.
“What does it say?”
He handed her the paper.
The message was written in Claire’s handwriting.
If Cassandra ever tries to kill Owen, it means Jonathan is alive.
Mara looked up.
Before anyone could speak, glass shattered in the room behind them.
Thomas pushed Mara down.
Adrian turned.
A stone lay on the floor.
Wrapped around it was a fresh piece of paper.
Someone had thrown it through the window.
Adrian opened the note.
Three words.
COME ALONE, HUSBAND.
Underneath was the warehouse address Mara had received at the hospital.
May you like
And at the bottom was a time.
9:00 P.M.
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