Chapter 5 - The CabinClaire Told Me Why She Took Our Daughter

We escaped through the service stairs.

Victor disappeared during the confusion.

So did the men with him.

Claire dragged me across the parking garage and into a gray SUV.

A man I didn't recognize was driving.

No one spoke for twenty minutes.

We left the city.

We drove into the mountains.

The road narrowed.

Trees closed around us.

Finally, the SUV stopped in front of an old wooden cabin.

Claire got out.

I followed.

"Where's Hope?"

Inside.

That single word nearly broke me.

I pushed past Claire.

Then I saw her.

My daughter.

Hope was asleep in a portable crib beside the fireplace.

She was wearing a pink sweater.

A stuffed rabbit rested against her chest.

I stopped walking.

Three months old.

Alive.

Safe.

For the first time since the house had gone empty, I could breathe.

I knelt beside the crib.

Hope opened her eyes.

She looked at me.

Then smiled.

I started crying.

I hadn't cried when Claire left.

I hadn't cried when I found the evidence.

I hadn't cried when men broke into my office.

But seeing my daughter smile destroyed whatever remained of my pride.

I touched her tiny hand.

"Hi, sweetheart."

Claire stood several feet away.

She watched silently.

I looked back at her.

"Why?"

She swallowed.

"Because I found out what Daniel Mercer actually was."

"I'm right here."

"I know."

"What did I do?"

Claire stared at me.

"You cheated on me."

I lowered my eyes.

"Yes."

"You lied to me."

"Yes."

"You spent money on Samantha."

"Yes."

"You missed Hope's first doctor's appointment because you were with her."

I flinched.

Claire's voice broke.

"I waited in that office alone."

I couldn't speak.

"But that's not why I left."

I looked at her.

"Then why?"

She walked to a table.

On it were photographs.

She picked up one.

It was a picture of my father.

Standing beside Victor.

"Three months before Hope was born, I found this."

I stared.

"My father."

"Yes."

"He's been dead for years."

"I know."

"What does this mean?"

"Your father didn't build this company honestly."

I said nothing.

Claire continued.

"He used shell companies. He moved money through charities, real estate companies, construction contracts."

I shook my head.

"No."

"Victor inherited the network."

"And me?"

She looked directly into my eyes.

"You inherited the liability."

I felt the room tilt.

"What liability?"

Claire placed another document in front of me.

It was an insurance agreement.

My name was the beneficiary.

The policy value was ten million dollars.

I stared at it.

"Why would my father have this?"

"Because someone expected you to die."

My mouth went dry.

Claire reached for my hand.

I pulled away.

"Who?"

"That's what I've been trying to find out."

I looked at Hope.

"How long have you known?"

"Since before she was born."

"You should have told me."

"I tried."

"When?"

"Every time I asked you to spend time with us."

I stared at the floor.

Claire wiped a tear from her cheek.

"You were so busy building your second life that you didn't notice your first one was being watched."

"Who was watching us?"

"Victor."

"Why?"

"Because he needed you to keep signing things."

"What things?"

"Transfers."

"Contracts."

"Loans."

"Insurance agreements."

Her voice became quieter.

"And one document that would have made you legally responsible for every dollar your father ever moved."

I remembered Victor's office.

The meetings.

The papers.

The signatures.

The trust.

I felt sick.

"Why didn't you destroy them?"

"I tried."

She looked toward the window.

"Someone got to the bank before me."

"Who?"

Claire didn't answer.

Instead, she picked up her phone.

There was a video saved on the screen.

She pressed play.

My father appeared.

Older.

Gray-haired.

Sitting in a room I didn't recognize.

He looked directly at the camera.

And said,

"Daniel, if you're watching this, then Victor has already betrayed you."

My blood froze.

My father's voice continued.

"The woman you love most will be the person who saves your life."

The video ended.

I looked at Claire.

She was crying.

"Who was he talking about?"

Claire looked toward the crib.

Then back at me.

"He wasn't talking about me."

Before I could ask what she meant, headlights appeared outside.

Someone was driving toward the cabin.

Claire grabbed her gun.

Her face went white.

"That's impossible."

"Who is it?"

She looked at me.

"The only person who knew where this cabin was."

A car stopped outside.

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