Chapter 7 - The Price of a Wife
At 9:14 p.m., Gideon called my phone.
I was sitting in a small conference room at the hospital.
Detective Collins stood beside me.
Two investigators were examining the recovered documents.
My mother sat near the window.
Claire had been moved to a secure room upstairs.
Lily was asleep under observation.
And my father was in a separate room answering questions about the trust.
I answered on speaker.
"Gideon."
"Daniel."
His voice was warm.
Almost cheerful.
"You've been busy."
I said nothing.
"Your father always did underestimate you."
"Where's Vanessa?"
A pause.
"You still care?"
"Where is she?"
He sighed.
"She's with me."
I looked at Collins.
She motioned for me to keep talking.
"Is she alive?"
"For now."
"What do you want?"
"The envelope."
I stared at the phone.
"You already know it's in the safe."
"Then bring it."
"No."
Silence.
Gideon's tone changed.
"Daniel, don't be foolish."
I leaned forward.
"I'm not bringing you anything."
"Your wife may disagree with that decision."
I closed my eyes.
"Put her on."
A moment passed.
Then I heard breathing.
"Daniel?"
Vanessa.
Her voice was weak.
I swallowed.
"Are you hurt?"
She began crying.
"I'm sorry."
"Vanessa, listen to me."
"I didn't know he'd do this."
I felt anger rise.
"You knew enough."
A sob.
"I know."
I took a breath.
"Are you in the Northbridge office?"
A pause.
"Yes."
Gideon's voice cut in.
"Enough."
Then he returned to the line.
"One hour, Daniel."
I looked at the clock.
9:17.
He continued.
"Bring the originals. Come alone. Confirm the transfer."
"And then?"
"Your wife walks away."
I stared at the phone.
"What about Lily?"
"She'll be safe."
I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I was sick of hearing that word from people who used it as a bargaining chip.
"You don't get to tell me my daughter will be safe."
Gideon went quiet.
I continued.
"She is safe because she's away from you."
Then I hung up.
Detective Collins looked at me.
"Good."
I shook my head.
"No."
She frowned.
"What?"
"He doesn't sound desperate."
Collins considered that.
"He's holding your wife. He still believes he has leverage."
I looked at the spreadsheet.
"Maybe."
Then I pointed to the trust documents.
"But I think we're missing something."
She sat down.
"What?"
"If Gideon has forged signatures for years, why does he need me now?"
"Stronger verification."
"That's what Claire said."
I nodded.
"But he could have used another account. Another shell company. Another fraud."
Collins leaned forward.
"What are you thinking?"
"He isn't just moving money."
I looked at the contract.
"He's trying to make somebody else legally responsible for what he's already done."
The detective studied me.
"That's possible."
I pointed to a clause near the bottom.
"Look."
She leaned closer.
The clause stated that the successor trustee accepted prior transaction histories upon confirmation.
I felt sick.
"If I sign this, I'm not just approving a transfer."
Collins nodded slowly.
"You're potentially accepting responsibility for the historical records."
I looked at her.
"He wants me to take the fall."
She said nothing.
The truth settled over me.
Gideon hadn't spent eleven years planning to destroy the Whitmore family.
He had spent eleven years building an escape route.
A way to walk away with the money while leaving our names on the crimes.
Arthur's signature.
Evelyn's signature.
My signature.
The people he controlled were supposed to become the people prosecutors pursued.
I stared at the screen.
Then Claire's voice came from the doorway.
"Daniel."
I turned.
She stood beside a nurse, wrapped in a hospital blanket.
She looked exhausted.
But determined.
"There's one more thing."
I rose.
"Claire, you should be resting."
She shook her head.
"Not yet."
She looked at Collins.
"I need to show you something."
The detective nodded.
Claire opened a folder she'd carried from her room.
Inside were photographs.
Some showed financial records.
Others showed handwritten notes.
Then she placed one photograph on the table.
A young woman standing beside Gideon.
Dark hair.
A bright smile.
A silver ring on her left hand.
I recognized her from the old records.
Rebecca Hale.
Claire looked at me.
"Gideon told me Rebecca died in an accident."
I stared at the photograph.
"She did."
Claire shook her head.
"No."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
She reached into the folder.
"I found the original crash report."
Collins leaned forward.
Claire placed it on the table.
The report listed injuries.
Time of death.
Vehicle identification.
And a notation from the first responding officer.
ONE FEMALE SUBJECT REMOVED FROM VEHICLE PRIOR TO FIRE.
I frowned.
"Removed?"
Claire nodded.
"The woman was alive when emergency personnel arrived."
I looked at Collins.
Her expression had changed.
Claire continued.
"She was transported to a private medical facility."
I felt cold.
"Which facility?"
Claire pointed to the address.
Briarwood Road.
The same place where she'd been held.
The same place where my mother had spent eleven years.
I stared at her.
"Rebecca was alive?"
Claire nodded.
"After the crash."
My mind raced.
If Rebecca had survived the accident, the body buried under my mother's name might not have been hers.
A third woman.
Another missing person.
Another crime.
I looked at Claire.
"Do you know what happened to Rebecca?"
She swallowed.
"Yes."
The room went silent.
Claire looked at my mother.
Then at me.
And whispered:
"I was there when she died."
I couldn't speak.
Claire's eyes filled.
"She asked me to tell her husband one thing."
I stared.
"What?"
Claire looked toward the photograph.
"That she hadn't stolen the money."
A tear rolled down her cheek.
"She'd been trying to return it."
Detective Collins slowly closed the folder.
Then asked:
"Claire, who was Rebecca's husband?"
Claire looked at us.
"Gideon."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
May you like
The woman who had died in my mother's place was Gideon's wife.
And the man who'd spoken at my mother's funeral had spent eleven years hiding the death of his own.
