Chapter 2 - THE MAN WITH THE PHOTOGRAPH
Thomas moved first.
He grabbed his coat and headed for the rear exit.
Margaret caught his sleeve.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“A man just accused you of stealing our daughter.”
“He didn’t say anything.”
“We all saw him.”
Thomas leaned close.
“You have no idea who that man is.”
“Then tell me.”
He pulled free.
Emily stepped between Thomas and the hallway.
“You’re not leaving.”
He stared at her.
Twenty-two years of polite society vanished from his face.
“Young lady, move.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand what you’re involved in.”
Emily folded her arms.
“Yeah? I’m starting to.”
Outside, the old man pounded on the window.
Thomas cursed under his breath.
The manager unlocked the front door.
The man came inside, breathing hard.
He was probably in his late sixties, thin, with a scar running from his left ear toward his jaw.
He looked at Emily.
For several long seconds, he couldn’t speak.
Finally he said, “You look like her.”
Emily frowned.
“Like who?”
He looked at Margaret.
“Like your mother did at twenty-two.”
Margaret covered her mouth.
Thomas headed for the door.
The old man pointed at him.
“Don’t let him leave.”
Thomas turned.
“You should have stayed gone, Samuel.”
The room changed.
Margaret stared at the stranger.
“You know him?”
Samuel gave a bitter laugh.
“He knows me real well.”
“Who are you?”
“Samuel Pike.”
Margaret searched her memory.
Nothing.
Samuel looked down.
“I was an orderly at St. Matthew’s.”
Margaret’s knees almost gave out.
“The night of the fire?”
“Yes.”
Thomas said, “He was fired for theft.”
Samuel looked at Emily.
“He paid me.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Samuel pointed at Thomas.
“Him.”
Thomas stepped forward.
“That is a lie.”
Samuel pulled a folded document from his coat.
“I drove a hospital laundry van out of the loading dock at 2:17 in the morning. Inside that van was Nurse Claire Ashford.”
Margaret whispered, “Thomas’s sister.”
“And a baby.”
Margaret swayed.
Emily caught her.
Samuel continued.
“The baby was alive.”
Thomas smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
“You’ve been drinking again.”
“I’ve been sober seventeen years.”
“You expect everyone to believe a convicted thief?”
“No.”
Samuel pulled out the photograph.
“I expect them to believe this.”
Emily took it.
The picture showed Margaret holding a newborn. A nurse stood in the background.
The nurse’s face was half turned.
Emily looked closer.
“Is that Claire?”
Margaret nodded.
Samuel flipped the photograph over.
A handwritten note covered the back.
EMERGENCY TRANSFER AUTHORIZED.
INFANT FEMALE.
M.A.
KEEP IDENTITY SEALED.
Below it was a signature.
Thomas Ashford.
Margaret looked at her husband.
“You signed this.”
Thomas shook his head.
“Forged.”
Samuel laughed.
“You always said that would be your answer.”
Thomas suddenly lunged.
He snatched for the photograph.
Emily moved faster.
She pulled it against her chest.
Samuel stepped in front of her.
Thomas stopped inches away.
“Give me that.”
“No,” Emily said.
“You have no idea what that paper can do.”
Margaret’s voice went cold.
“What can it do, Thomas?”
He stared at her.
For the first time, Emily saw calculation replace panic.
“It can destroy this family.”
Margaret shook her head.
“No. You did that twenty-two years ago.”
Samuel looked toward the street.
“We need to get out of here.”
“Why?” Emily asked.
“Because I wasn’t the only person paid to keep quiet.”
A sharp crack split the air.
The restaurant window exploded.
People screamed and dropped to the floor.
Samuel jerked backward.
Blood sprayed across Emily’s white sleeve.
“Samuel!”
He collapsed.
Outside, the black Lincoln’s windshield shattered.
A dark SUV tore away from the curb.
Emily pressed both hands against Samuel’s shoulder.
Blood pushed through her fingers.
He grabbed her wrist.
“Listen to me.”
“Don’t talk.”
“Saint Anne’s.”
“I know.”
“No.”
His grip tightened.
“Basement records.”
Emily leaned closer.
“What records?”
Samuel’s eyes found Thomas across the chaos.
Then he whispered:
May you like
“Your death certificate.”
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