Chapter 7 - The footsteps stopped directly above the hidden room.No one breathed.
Sloan turned off the lamp.
Darkness returned.
A metal latch moved.
Someone tried to open the hidden door.
Harrison put a finger to his lips.
Then the radio crackled again.
“Evelyn.”
I nearly cried out.
The voice continued.
“You have five minutes.”
Harrison whispered:
“They're not after the money.”
“Then what?”
“The girl.”
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she inherited the trust.”
My mind raced.
Thomas had hidden money.
A daughter had been taken.
The emergency account had been drained.
Someone had been using my husband's name.
And now armed people were breaking into my house.
It felt too enormous.
Too impossible.
But the documents were real.
The birth certificate was real.
My missing daughter was real.
I just couldn't remember her.
Harrison leaned close.
“Mom, I need you to trust me.”
I laughed softly.
“That's the funniest thing you've said all night.”
His face crumpled.
“You have every reason not to.”
“Correct.”
He nodded.
Then he whispered:
“I lied because I was trying to keep you alive.”
“By stealing my money?”
“By moving it.”
“What?”
“The withdrawals weren't all spent.”
I looked at him.
“Where did it go?”
“Protection accounts.”
“Whose?”
“Yours.”
I stared at him.
“Then why does the bank say it went to companies?”
“Because direct transfers would have exposed you.”
I didn't understand.
“Explain.”
“The companies were fronts.”
“Whose?”
“Thomas created some. I created others.”
“Why?”
“Because Dad discovered that somebody had been using his identity to move money. When he tried to expose them, they threatened you.”
Harrison took a breath.
“I thought I could stop it after Dad died.”
“You couldn't.”
“No.”
“That's why you married Sloan?”
Sloan looked down.
Harrison nodded.
“She worked with financial crimes.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
She finally spoke.
“I was investigating the network.”
“And then?”
“I fell in love with Harrison.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course you did.”
Harrison looked away.
“You've been manipulating me for eleven months.”
“We needed access to the house.”
“You destroyed my office.”
Sloan swallowed.
“I searched it.”
“You stole my things.”
“I needed to find the documents.”
“You destroyed my birthday cake.”
Sloan looked at me.
“I didn't mean for it to fall.”
I stared at her.
She looked ashamed.
Then I understood something.
“That was deliberate.”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“To make Harrison confront you.”
He looked at her sharply.
“That wasn't the plan.”
She whispered:
“I was trying to force you to throw us out.”
“Why?”
“Because if we stayed, they'd eventually attack you.”
I stared at them.
Neither explanation erased what they had done.
But it changed the shape of the betrayal.
A loud crash came from above.
The hidden door shook.
Harrison grabbed the metal case.
“We're leaving.”
“Where?”
“To find Claire.”
The door above opened.
Light spilled into the cracks.
Sloan raised her weapon.
Harrison pushed me toward the opposite wall.
A section opened.
Another passage.
We moved.
Behind us, the hidden room door slammed open.
Someone shouted:
“Find the case!”
We ran.
The tunnel ended at the woods behind my property.
Cold air hit my face.
We emerged beneath a group of pine trees.
Harrison checked his phone.
“Claire is in danger.”
“How do you know?”
“She called me.”
“Where is she?”
He showed me the screen.
There was a message.
I KNOW WHO YOU ARE.
Then another.
MOM, I'M SORRY.
My heart stopped.
“That's from Claire?”
“Yes.”
“When did she send it?”
Harrison checked.
“Six minutes ago.”
“Call her.”
He did.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then a third call.
The phone connected.
Silence.
“Claire?” Harrison said.
No response.
Then a woman's voice whispered:
“Evelyn?”
I froze.
I knew that voice.
I had never heard it before.
But something inside me recognized it.
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“Where are you?”
She began crying.
“I've been waiting for you.”
A man's voice entered the call.
“Tell your mother goodbye.”
The line went dead.
Harrison looked at me.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“We have to go.”
“Where?”
He looked toward the road.
“Chicago.”
“Why?”
“Because that's where Claire is.”
Then he showed me another message.
A photograph.
May you like
A young woman tied to a chair.
And behind her stood Detective Raymond Cole.
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