Chapter 7 - ELENA WARDThey found Elena Ward's original missing-person case buried in a neighboring county.
She had vanished three years earlier.
Twenty-seven years old.
Single mother.
No criminal record.
No history of drug use.
No reason to disappear.
Her son Noah had been six months old.
But there was something strange.
Elena's apartment had been found completely clean.
No struggle.
No blood.
No broken furniture.
Her car had been abandoned twelve miles away.
Inside it was an infant car seat.
Empty.
The detective who originally handled the case had retired.
When Daniel found him, the old detective refused to speak on the phone.
“Come alone.”
Daniel met him at a diner.
The former detective's hands trembled around his coffee.
“You should leave this case alone.”
“Why?”
“Because people died.”
“Who?”
The detective looked toward the window.
“Two witnesses.”
“Who killed them?”
“That's the question.”
He slid a folder across the table.
Inside was one photograph.
Elena Ward standing outside a courthouse.
Beside her was a man Daniel recognized.
Adrian Voss.
“What was she doing with him?”
“She accused a private adoption company of stealing children.”
Daniel's pulse quickened.
“What happened?”
“The case disappeared.”
“Why?”
“Because someone paid for it to disappear.”
“Who?”
The old detective looked at him.
“I don't know.”
Then he leaned closer.
“But Elena knew she was in danger.”
“Why?”
“She gave me a message.”
“What message?”
The detective reached into his coat.
A folded piece of paper appeared.
Three words.
FIND THE RED DOOR.
Daniel froze.
“Why didn't you tell anyone?”
“I did.”
“To whom?”
The detective looked down.
“Everybody who heard it ended up dead.”
Daniel's phone vibrated.
Lena.
“Daniel, come back.”
“What happened?”
“We ran the number above Eli's drawing.”
Daniel frowned.
“What number?”
“The number he drew above his own head.”
Three.
“We thought it was meaningless.”
“And?”
“It isn't.”
The number three appeared in several old case files.
Three was a facility designation.
Facility Three.
And according to state records, Facility Three had officially closed eight years ago.
Its final director?
Adrian Voss.
Daniel stood.
“Send me the address.”
“Already did.”
The message arrived.
A remote rehabilitation center outside town.
The lights had been disconnected years ago.
But when Daniel arrived, the front gate was open.
Inside the building, every room was empty.
Except one.
Room Three.
A small wooden chair.
A mattress.
A child's blue shoe.
Daniel picked it up.
Eli's hospital nurse had described his missing shoe earlier that day.
Blue.
With a dinosaur printed on the side.
Daniel looked down.
The shoe was still warm.
Someone had been there.
Recently.
A sound came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Daniel drew his weapon.
“Police!”
The footsteps stopped.
Then a woman's voice whispered from the darkness.
“You shouldn't have found this place.”
Daniel raised his flashlight.
A woman stepped into view.
Pale.
Exhausted.
Her hair was cut short.
She looked directly at him.
“Officer Cross?”
“Yes.”
May you like
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I'm Elena Ward.”
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