Chapter 13 - The Woman Buried Under the Wrong Name
Renick did not move.
For several seconds, he seemed unable to understand the words.
“Elise died,” he said.
Agent Mercer watched him.
“That's what the official records say.”
“I saw the body.”
“Did you identify her?”
Renick opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
He remembered the hospital.
The cold hallway.
The surgeon's exhausted face.
A covered stretcher.
A medical bracelet.
Someone had told him the injuries were severe.
He remembered the funeral.
The sealed coffin.
Callum standing beside him.
Telling him not to look.
Saying he should remember Elise as she had been.
Renick sat down.
“No.”
Mercer waited.
“No, that's impossible.”
“Julia says the woman in the vehicle was alive when emergency responders arrived.”
Renick looked up.
“Where is my wife?”
“We don't know.”
His expression changed.
“You don't know?”
“Not yet.”
He stood sharply.
“Then what exactly are you telling me?”
Mercer remained calm.
“I'm telling you there's evidence that the death investigation was manipulated.”
Renick stared at her.
“By whom?”
“That's what we're working to establish.”
Belle watched his hands.
They were shaking.
She had never seen him frightened like this.
Not even when he learned Callum might be responsible for the sabotage.
Hope was doing something terror couldn't.
It was breaking him.
“Renick,” she said softly.
He looked at her.
“Sit down.”
He didn't argue.
He simply sat.
Mercer continued.
“Julia says Elise planned to meet a source that night.”
“Who?”
“A former Harbor Finch accountant.”
“Where?”
“At a roadside diner north of Boston.”
Renick leaned forward.
“She had Brinley with her.”
“Yes.”
“Why would she take our daughter?”
Mercer hesitated.
“Julia believes Elise was planning to leave the estate temporarily.”
Renick closed his eyes.
The memory returned.
We need to talk.
He had told her to wait ten minutes.
Ten minutes.
He wondered whether he would spend the rest of his life hearing those words.
Mercer continued.
“According to Julia, Elise believed Callum intended to use Brinley to force her silence.”
Belle swallowed.
“That's what Julia said on the phone.”
Mercer nodded.
“Exactly.”
“Then what happened?”
“We're still reconstructing the route.”
Renick looked up.
“What about the woman in the coffin?”
“We've obtained authorization to review the remains and records.”
“Who was she?”
“We don't know.”
The room fell silent.
Then Belle asked the question no one wanted to hear.
“If Elise survived, why hasn't she come home?”
Mercer's expression hardened.
“That's what concerns us.”
That night, Renick went to Brinley's bedroom.
His daughter was sitting on the bed with a picture book.
He sat beside her.
“Brin.”
She looked up.
“I need to ask you something.”
She grew tense.
Renick immediately softened his voice.
“You don't have to answer.”
Brinley watched him.
“Do you remember the night Mommy went away?”
Her fingers tightened around the book.
Renick fought the urge to push.
Instead, he opened his hand.
Inside lay a tiny paper sparrow Micah had made.
“Micah said this one was for you.”
Brinley touched the bird.
A faint smile appeared.
“He said birds can go anywhere,” Renick continued.
“Even when they're scared.”
Brinley looked at him.
Renick swallowed.
“I wish I'd listened to you sooner.”
Her eyes filled.
“Daddy?”
The word hit him like a physical blow.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“I saw Mommy.”
His breath caught.
“When?”
Brinley looked toward the window.
“After.”
“After what?”
“After the car.”
Renick's pulse raced.
He kept his voice gentle.
“Where did you see her?”
“White room.”
“A hospital?”
She shook her head.
“Big light.”
He waited.
“Man said sleep.”
Renick felt cold.
“Who said that?”
Brinley began trembling.
He immediately took her hands.
“It's okay.”
She shook her head again.
“No.”
“Brinley—”
“Mommy cried.”
Renick's eyes burned.
“Why?”
The little girl pressed her face against his chest.
Her next words came in a whisper.
“Because Uncle said Daddy didn't want us anymore.”
Renick wrapped his arms around her.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
He held her tightly.
“I never stopped wanting you.”
Brinley began crying.
“And I never stopped loving Mommy.”
For the first time in fourteen months, his daughter sobbed openly in his arms.
Not the silent tears he'd seen every night.
Real, desperate sobs.
Renick held her until she fell asleep.
Then he walked into the hallway.
Nathaniel was waiting.
Renick's face had changed.
Not into the cold anger his enemies knew.
Something steadier.
More dangerous to the people responsible.
“Find the white room,” Renick said.
Nathaniel nodded.
“And find every medical facility connected to Harbor Finch.”
“Yes, sir.”
May you like
Renick looked back at his daughter's closed door.
“My wife may have been alive every single day I believed she was dead.”
