Chapter 13 - The Woman Who Knew the Truth
Daniel was released the following afternoon.
Not because the investigation had ended.
Because investigators found evidence that his authorization had been forged.
The security footage showed him handing Elise a document near the garage.
The document, according to recovered email records, was a routine facilities approval from months earlier.
Its timestamp had been altered.
A forensic examiner found that the video used multiple source files spliced together.
And most importantly, Daniel's physical access credentials had been duplicated through an old administrative account.
An account controlled by Victor Sloan.
When Daniel walked into the house, he looked exhausted.
His jacket hung loosely from his shoulders.
His eyes searched the room.
"Sarah?"
I was standing beside the staircase.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then he said, "They told me about Claire."
His voice broke on his mother's name.
I nodded.
"I'm sorry."
He looked toward the floor.
"I spent twenty years believing she died because of an illness."
I wanted to reach for him.
Instead, I stayed where I was.
There was still too much between us.
Too many lies.
Too many unfinished truths.
Then Daniel looked up.
"Have they found Ava?"
I shook my head.
Something in his face collapsed.
He sat down on the bottom step.
Not like a billionaire.
Not like a man used to giving orders.
Like someone who had just discovered money couldn't repair the worst things in life.
"I should have protected her," he whispered.
I sat beside him.
For several minutes, we said nothing.
Then I asked, "Why didn't you tell me your advisers were searching for my father's heirs?"
Daniel rubbed his eyes.
"Because I was afraid you'd think I only wanted your children's inheritance."
"Did you?"
"No."
"Did you consider it?"
He looked at me.
"Yes."
The answer hurt.
But I appreciated the truth.
"My attorneys told me locating the heirs could help challenge Richard's control of the trust."
"And when you found us?"
"I recognized the surname after you told me your father's name."
He shook his head.
"By then, Ava had fallen asleep in my car."
I watched him.
"I should have told you everything that night."
"Yes."
"I didn't."
"No."
He looked down.
"I thought if I gave you safety first, you'd understand later."
I swallowed.
"You can't build trust by deciding which truths another person can handle."
His eyes filled.
"You're right."
A long silence followed.
Then he whispered.
"I don't expect you to forgive me."
I looked toward the stairs.
"My daughter is still missing."
"I know."
"Until she comes home, nothing else matters."
Daniel nodded.
"Then that's where we start."
At four that afternoon, Thomas Greene gave a formal interview.
He explained that Claire Hayes had begun investigating unusual financial transfers shortly before Patrick Reed's death.
She had kept copies of laboratory reports, engineering warnings, and payments made through shell companies.
After the fire, she refused to approve the company's official explanation.
Richard called her unstable.
Edward dismissed her concerns.
Victor drafted confidentiality agreements.
But Claire continued searching.
Then she became ill.
Doctors initially believed she had suffered a severe reaction to medication.
The family accepted that explanation.
Thomas never did.
He believed someone had interfered with her treatment.
But belief wasn't proof.
Agent Torres made that clear.
"We need records, witnesses, or physical evidence."
Thomas nodded.
"That's why I came."
He placed another document on the table.
It was a list of names.
Former employees.
Laboratory technicians.
Accounting staff.
One name had been circled in red.
Marianne Wells.
"Who is she?" I asked.
"Claire's personal nurse."
"Is she alive?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
Thomas hesitated.
"She's been living under a different last name."
Agent Torres leaned forward.
"Do you know where?"
He nodded.
"Prescott, Arizona."
Within hours, investigators located Marianne.
She agreed to speak.
Then she insisted on meeting at a police station.
She was terrified.
I attended the meeting with Olivia.
Marianne was a thin woman in her sixties with shaking hands.
When she saw Daniel's photograph, she began crying.
"His mother was a good woman."
I sat across from her.
"Can you tell us what happened?"
Marianne clasped her hands.
"Claire believed someone was entering her bedroom when she slept."
"Who?"
"She didn't know."
"Did you witness anything?"
Marianne nodded.
"Once."
Agent Torres leaned forward.
"What?"
"I saw Victor Sloan leaving her private sitting room."
My stomach tightened.
"Was Richard there?"
"No."
Marianne wiped her eyes.
"But the next morning, Claire's medication had been replaced."
"Did you report it?"
"I told Edward."
"What did he do?"
"He called Victor."
Silence filled the room.
"And after that?" Agent Torres asked.
Marianne's voice trembled.
"I was dismissed."
I stared at her.
"Why didn't you go to the police?"
"I tried."
She began crying harder.
"Someone threatened my son."
Agent Torres handed her a tissue.
"Do you have any evidence left?"
Marianne nodded slowly.
"Claire kept one final recording."
My heart jumped.
"Where?"
"She hid it somewhere in Daniel's childhood bedroom."
Daniel looked startled.
"My room?"
Marianne nodded.
"She told me that if anything happened to her, her son would eventually know where to look."
Daniel whispered.
"Where?"
Marianne closed her eyes.
"Inside the wooden frame of the painting she made for his tenth birthday."
Then a loud crash sounded outside the interview room.
The lights flickered.
An officer shouted for everyone to get down.
A man had forced his way through the lobby carrying a metal object.
He struck an officer and rushed toward the corridor.
Agent Torres pulled her weapon and ordered him to stop.
The man hesitated.
Then another officer tackled him.
The attacker was restrained.
No one in the interview room was injured.
But when investigators searched his jacket, they found a photograph of Marianne.
Across it were two handwritten words.
LAST WARNING.
May you like
And on the back was a phone number.
A number that belonged to Victor Sloan.
