Chapter 10 - The Price of a Daughter
Gabriel didn't remember crossing the lawn.
He remembered Izzy's scream.
He remembered the white van.
And he remembered the unbearable sight of the empty place where his daughter had been standing.
He reached Marcus just as the security director began regaining consciousness.
"Marcus!"
The man blinked.
"Mr. Whitmore?"
"Where did they take her?"
Marcus struggled to sit up.
"Two men."
He touched his neck.
"One used some kind of electrical device."
Gabriel looked toward the private road.
The van had disappeared beyond the iron gates.
He took out his phone.
"Call the police."
Marcus reached for his radio.
"Already doing it."
Within minutes, the estate's security system was locked down.
Camera footage was preserved.
Officers were dispatched to the surrounding roads.
Gabriel paced the terrace, shaking so badly he could barely hold his phone.
Marta appeared in the doorway.
"Where's Isabelle?"
Gabriel turned.
Her expression changed when she saw his face.
"No."
He tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
Marta covered her mouth.
"No, please."
Gabriel caught her before her knees gave way.
"They took her."
Marta began crying.
Gabriel held her shoulders.
"We're bringing her back."
He repeated the words as much for himself as for her.
"We're bringing her back."
Daniel arrived from the library.
"Police are on the way."
Gabriel nodded.
"Tell them everything."
Daniel hesitated.
"Gabriel, I need you to stay here."
"No."
"You're not helping Isabelle by running blindly into a dangerous situation."
Gabriel stared at him.
Daniel stepped closer.
"Let the investigators work."
Gabriel looked away.
Every instinct in his body demanded that he run after the van.
But he knew Daniel was right about one thing.
If he made a reckless move, Izzy could pay the price.
He forced himself to stand still.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
Gabriel answered immediately.
"Where is she?"
A man laughed softly.
"Straight to business."
Gabriel's blood ran cold.
"Nathaniel."
"Good evening, Gabriel."
The voice was older than he remembered.
Smooth.
Confident.
Almost amused.
"Where's my daughter?"
"She's fine."
"Let me hear her."
"Such an impatient young man."
Gabriel gripped the phone.
"If you've hurt her—"
"Threats won't help."
Nathaniel paused.
"Your mother tried that approach years ago."
Gabriel looked toward Daniel.
He put the call on speaker.
Daniel began recording the details for investigators.
Nathaniel continued.
"I need you to understand something."
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
"Then talk."
"Your father left behind a problem."
"What problem?"
"A fortune that should have been mine."
Gabriel stared at the phone.
Nathaniel chuckled.
"Thomas was always sentimental."
He sighed.
"He thought wealth should protect children."
Gabriel felt sick.
"Where is Isabelle?"
"Patience."
Nathaniel's voice hardened.
"Your daughter is the named beneficiary of certain assets."
Gabriel looked at Daniel.
"Assets that cannot be transferred without her legal representative."
Daniel's expression changed.
Nathaniel continued.
"Right now, you are the person standing in my way."
Gabriel gripped the phone.
"What do you want?"
"Your cooperation."
"With what?"
"A settlement."
Nathaniel gave a dry laugh.
"You sign the necessary releases."
Gabriel stared ahead.
"And you return Isabelle?"
"Provided you behave."
Gabriel closed his eyes.
He wanted to scream.
Instead he asked, "Is she scared?"
For the first time, Nathaniel hesitated.
Then he said, "She's asking for her father."
Gabriel's knees weakened.
"Let me talk to her."
Silence.
Then a tiny voice came through the speaker.
"Daddy?"
Gabriel pressed a hand over his mouth.
"Baby."
"Daddy, I don't know these people."
His eyes filled.
"I know, sweetheart."
"They took my drawings."
Gabriel bent forward.
"I'm going to get you."
"Promise?"
His voice broke.
"Promise."
A man's voice sounded in the background.
Then the call disconnected.
Gabriel stared at the phone.
For several seconds, he couldn't move.
Daniel stepped closer.
"Gabriel."
He looked up.
"We have a recording."
Gabriel nodded.
"Good."
"And the call may help investigators locate her."
Gabriel stared toward the gate.
"Then give them everything."
The next few hours became a blur of police questions, security footage, phone calls, and maps.
Gabriel told investigators everything he knew about Nathaniel Cross.
Daniel supplied the financial records.
Elena provided the photograph of Thomas at the Rhode Island property.
Marta described the threats Helena had made.
For the first time, Gabriel's family secrets became part of an official kidnapping investigation.
Near midnight, Gabriel sat alone in Izzy's new bedroom.
Her sketchbook lay open on the bed.
He touched the finished portrait.
There they were.
A little girl.
A tall man.
Two smiling faces.
Izzy had drawn him wearing a blue suit.
She had given him enormous ears.
Gabriel laughed softly.
Then he began crying again.
He picked up the picture and held it against his chest.
"I promised you."
His voice cracked.
"I promised I wouldn't let anyone take you."
A quiet knock came at the door.
Gabriel looked up.
Elena stood outside.
"May I come in?"
He nodded.
She sat beside him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Elena said, "I know something about Nathaniel."
Gabriel looked at her.
"What?"
"He always believes he's the smartest person in the room."
Gabriel gave a bitter laugh.
"He sounds like my mother."
Elena shook her head.
"No."
Her expression darkened.
"Helena wants control."
She leaned closer.
"Nathaniel wants revenge."
Gabriel stared.
"Against whom?"
"Your father."
Gabriel's stomach tightened.
"Why?"
Elena looked toward the doorway.
"Because Thomas discovered something Nathaniel had done long before Isabelle was born."
Gabriel waited.
"Something involving a little boy."
Gabriel frowned.
"What little boy?"
Elena took out an old newspaper clipping.
The headline described a warehouse fire twenty-nine years earlier.
A seven-year-old child had disappeared.
Gabriel read the article.
Then he saw the child's photograph.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A small scar above his eyebrow.
The child looked strangely familiar.
Gabriel examined the caption.
Daniel Cross, age seven.
He looked up.
"Nathaniel's son?"
Elena nodded.
Gabriel frowned.
"What does this have to do with me?"
Elena's voice dropped.
"The boy survived."
Gabriel stared.
"Then where is he?"
Elena hesitated.
"He grew up under another name."
Gabriel looked at the photograph again.
A sick feeling settled in his stomach.
"What name?"
Elena lowered her eyes.
"Your mother's private investigator."
Gabriel froze.
"The man who handled Olivia's disappearance?"
Elena nodded.
"His name is Adrian Cole."
Gabriel remembered Adrian.
He was thirty-six now.
Quiet.
Efficient.
Always standing a few steps behind Helena.
Gabriel had seen him at the gala.
He had trusted the man with sensitive family matters.
A cold realization struck him.
"He was inside my house."
Elena nodded.
Gabriel stood so quickly the chair scraped the floor.
"Did security check his room?"
Elena shook her head.
Gabriel ran toward the hallway.
He called Marcus.
"Find Adrian Cole."
Marcus answered immediately.
"Sir, we've already been looking."
Gabriel stopped.
"What?"
"He's missing."
Gabriel gripped the phone.
"When did anyone last see him?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Just before the white van arrived."
Gabriel closed his eyes.
The kidnapping had not come from outside.
Someone inside the family had helped plan it.
Then Elena approached him with another disturbing piece of information.
"Gabriel, there's one thing I haven't told you."
He looked at her.
"Adrian knows where Thomas is."
Gabriel stared.
"And?"
Elena's voice trembled.
"He also knows where Nathaniel is keeping Isabelle."
Gabriel stepped toward her.
"How?"
Elena swallowed.
"Because Adrian called me two hours ago."
Gabriel felt his heart pounding.
"What did he say?"
She held out her phone.
A text message filled the screen.
Tell Gabriel to come to the place where his father taught him how to swim.
Beneath it was a photograph.
Izzy sat on a wooden chair beside a window.
She was holding her sketchbook.
Her eyes were red from crying.
But she appeared physically unharmed.
Gabriel looked past the child toward the background.
A lake.
A wooden dock.
A small red boathouse.
He recognized the place instantly.
His father's old summer cabin.
The one place in the world where Thomas Whitmore had always said their family could be happy.
Then a second message appeared.
May you like
Come alone.
Or she'll never see her mother again.
