Chapter 3 - THE MAN IN THE BASEMENTSecurity found the basement corpse beneath the old records archive.
The archive hadn't been used in years.
Dust covered the shelves. Rust stained the pipes. The fluorescent lights flickered above us as investigators moved through the narrow corridor.
I stood behind the yellow line.
Julian stood twenty feet away.
He hadn't spoken since we entered.
The body lay beneath a gray cover.
The police lifted the sheet.
I saw the clothes first.
Black dress.
Pearl earrings.
Wedding ring.
My wedding ring.
My breath stopped.
"That's impossible."
Julian turned toward me.
"Clara."
The body had my face.
Or enough of it.
Bruised.
Swollen.
Partially burned.
But the earrings were unmistakable.
The pearl necklace had been my mother's.
The wedding ring bore the tiny engraving Julian had given me on our first anniversary.
FOREVER.
My knees weakened.
Marcus caught my shoulder.
"Don't."
I stared at the corpse.
"Who is she?"
Nobody answered.
A detective crouched beside the body.
"Female. Approximately thirty-five to forty."
Julian suddenly spoke.
"That's my wife."
The detective looked at him.
"I'm sorry?"
"That's my wife."
My head snapped toward him.
Julian stared at the body.
His face was devastated.
Too devastated.
Like an actor suddenly realizing the audience had changed.
I stepped forward.
"Look again."
Julian turned.
"It's me."
He whispered it.
"It's supposed to be me."
The detective frowned.
"Mrs. Vance, we need DNA."
Julian stepped closer.
"No."
Everyone looked at him.
"No?"
He swallowed.
"I need..."
He stopped.
I watched the detective.
Then Marcus.
Then Julian.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
"Why don't you want the test?"
Julian stared at me.
His eyes hardened.
"Because I've had enough of this."
He walked toward the exit.
Security blocked him.
"Sir."
"Move."
"No one leaves until identification is complete."
Julian's jaw tightened.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Something changed in his face.
He walked into the hallway.
I followed.
He answered.
"Tell me."
A pause.
"No."
Another pause.
His voice dropped.
"Destroy it."
I stopped behind the door.
My pulse raced.
Marcus stood beside me.
He had heard everything.
"Destroy what?" I whispered.
Marcus shook his head.
Then Julian turned.
His eyes met mine.
He had realized we were listening.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then Julian smiled.
It was the coldest expression I had ever seen.
"You should have stayed dead."
I stepped toward him.
"You pushed me."
He didn't deny it.
He only looked toward my stomach.
Then his expression became almost contemptuous.
"You still think the baby belongs to you."
My blood turned cold.
"What?"
He smiled.
"Ask Marcus."
I turned.
Marcus was pale.
"Ask him."
Julian walked away.
I stared at Marcus.
"What did he mean?"
"Nothing."
"Marcus."
"Not here."
"Tell me."
He lowered his voice.
"The DNA report from your pregnancy was never completed."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"Julian requested a prenatal paternity test."
My hand went instinctively to my stomach.
"Without telling me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Because he wasn't certain the child was his."
My heartbeat became a pounding roar.
"Is it?"
"We don't know."
I stared at him.
"How could you not know?"
"There was a second sample."
"What second sample?"
Marcus looked at the basement door.
"The clinic received instructions before your accident."
"For what?"
"To collect the baby's DNA if you were unconscious."
I felt sick.
"What are you saying?"
Marcus took a breath.
"Your father left biological samples in a private medical trust."
I blinked.
"Why?"
"In case of questions about inheritance."
"Questions about my baby?"
"No."
He looked at me.
"Questions about you."
Before I could respond, the basement alarm started screaming.
Red lights flashed.
Security rushed past us.
A technician shouted from inside.
"Someone accessed the evidence locker!"
I ran.
Marcus followed.
The locker door was open.
The DNA file was gone.
The backup drive was gone.
And on the metal floor sat one object.
A hospital bracelet.
I picked it up.
My name was printed on it.
But the date was wrong.
It had been issued eight years earlier.
I looked at Marcus.
"Whose is this?"
He didn't answer.
I turned it over.
On the back, someone had written a name.
ELENA CROSS.
My stomach dropped.
Elena.
The woman carrying Julian's "heir."
I looked toward the hallway.
Julian was gone.
May you like
And suddenly, the pregnancy was no longer just an affair.
It was evidence.
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