Chapter 2 - Eight Months of LiesThe first thing I heard was screaming.
The second was glass breaking.
The third was Emily shouting my name.
“JAMES!”
I threw myself over Lily.
A bullet struck the marble pillar behind us.
Guests dropped to the floor.
Tables overturned.
Someone crawled beneath a buffet table.
The violinist disappeared behind the stage.
For perhaps five seconds, the ballroom became a battlefield.
Then emergency lights flickered on.
Red.
Dim.
Unsteady.
I looked for Emily.
She was gone.
“Emily!”
No answer.
I grabbed Lily's hand.
“Stay with me.”
We ducked behind a column.
Ryan was nowhere in sight.
Vanessa was crouched near the wedding cake, crying.
One of the armed men moved toward the rear exit.
The other stood near the entrance.
Then I saw something on the floor.
Emily's necklace.
I recognized it instantly.
Our mother had given it to her when Emily turned eighteen.
I picked it up.
A smear of blood marked the chain.
My heart stopped.
“Emily!”
I ran.
Behind the ballroom, there was a service corridor.
At the far end, a door slammed shut.
I sprinted after it.
I reached the parking lot.
Empty.
Except for a black SUV accelerating toward the highway.
I pulled out my phone.
Called 911.
Then I called everyone I trusted.
And finally, I called the only detective who had never believed Ryan's story.
Detective Marcus Hale.
He answered on the second ring.
“James?”
“Emily is alive.”
Silence.
“What?”
“She was at Ryan's wedding.”
Another pause.
“Are you sure?”
“I watched her hug Lily.”
Marcus swore under his breath.
“Then we've got a serious problem.”
“Tell me something first.”
“What?”
“Did you ever believe Emily's death certificate?”
Marcus didn't answer.
That told me everything.
Later that night, after police had taken statements, I sat beside Lily in a quiet hospital room.
She wouldn't sleep.
She held Emily's necklace in both hands.
“Uncle James?”
“Yeah?”
“Mommy wasn't dead?”
“No.”
“Then why did Daddy tell me she was?”
I looked through the window.
Rain streaked the glass.
“Because he wanted you to believe it.”
“Why?”
I couldn't answer.
But Marcus could.
He entered carrying a thin folder.
He placed it on the chair.
“I pulled the original case file.”
I opened it.
The first report said Emily's vehicle had gone over a cliff.
No body had been recovered.
No witnesses.
No confirmed DNA.
Yet the death certificate had been issued six days later.
I looked up.
“They declared her dead without a body?”
Marcus nodded.
“That's the first thing that bothered me.”
He turned another page.
“Here's the second.”
A photograph showed Emily's car.
Burned almost completely.
But beneath the wreckage was something strange.
A duplicate license plate.
Two plates.
Same number.
Different metal.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
“It means the crash may have been staged.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“And there's more.”
He pulled out a second photograph.
Emily's bank account.
A withdrawal.
Three hundred thousand dollars.
One week before her supposed death.
My stomach tightened.
“Who withdrew it?”
Marcus looked at me.
“Ryan.”
I closed my eyes.
Eight months.
Eight months of funerals.
Eight months of Lily sleeping with her mother's old scarf.
Eight months of everyone telling that child she had lost the most important person in her life.
And Ryan had known.
Or at least suspected.
Then I remembered what Emily had whispered.
He knows where he kept it.
I opened the folder again.
“What was Emily hiding?”
Marcus looked toward Lily.
“That's what we need to find out.”
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
You should have left Emily dead.
A second message appeared.
Now they know you know.
Then a photograph loaded.
It showed a dark room.
A chair.
A chain.
And Emily sitting in that chair.
Alive.
May you like
My blood ran cold.
Because the photograph had been taken less than ten minutes ago.
