Chapter 14 - GIDEON’S DAUGHTER
Gideon entered the house alone.
At least that was what he wanted Vanessa to believe.
He wore a black overcoat.
No tie.
No visible weapon.
Maisie was in the back bedroom with the door wide open.
Vanessa had promised.
No closed doors.
She stood in the living room.
Gun at her side.
Her phone, hidden behind a cracked picture frame, was connected to Detective Morales.
“Where is she?” Gideon asked.
“Safe.”
“You’ve made this unnecessarily dramatic.”
Vanessa laughed.
“That from you?”
His eyes moved around the room.
“Why here?”
“You don’t recognize it?”
“No.”
“Of course you don’t.”
Gideon studied her.
“What do you want?”
“The truth.”
“About?”
“Miriam Mercer.”
His face went flat.
“This again.”
“Yes.”
“You have a child upstairs and police hunting both of us, and you want to discuss a dead employee?”
“My mother.”
Silence.
Gideon stared at her.
Vanessa felt fourteen years old again.
Holding half a photograph.
Asking a question nobody wanted to answer.
“My mother,” she repeated.
Gideon gave a faint shake of his head.
“No.”
“She told you she lost the baby.”
“Yes.”
“She lied.”
Gideon looked toward the hallway.
Then back.
“You?”
Vanessa nodded.
“You’re claiming—”
“I’m not claiming anything.”
She pulled a folded copy of Miriam’s letter from her pocket.
“I found this in Evelyn’s files.”
Gideon did not take it.
Vanessa read.
He does not know Natalie is his.
Gideon’s face changed.
Not much.
Enough.
“No.”
Vanessa laughed through tears.
“That’s your favorite word.”
“Miriam lied.”
“Then do a DNA test.”
“Vanessa—”
“Natalie.”
He stared.
“My name was Natalie.”
Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.
Gideon looked toward the sound.
Vanessa raised the gun.
“Don’t.”
He smiled.
“There you are.”
“What?”
“The real you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know exactly what you are.”
“You used me.”
“You came to me.”
“I was your daughter.”
“If you were my daughter, you should have said so.”
Vanessa’s laugh broke.
“So you could what? Love me?”
Gideon said nothing.
“That’s what I thought.”
Outside, Morales’s team approached without sirens.
Evelyn sat in a command vehicle two blocks away.
Headphones on.
Listening.
Every word.
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Did you kill my mother?”
“No.”
“Did you have her followed?”
“Yes.”
“Did you threaten her?”
“She stole from me.”
“Did you threaten her?”
“Yes.”
“Did Thomas Calloway take your money?”
“Yes.”
“Did you order Grant to pressure Evelyn?”
“I gave him options.”
“You told him to use Maisie.”
Gideon’s eyes narrowed.
“I never told him to flood a room.”
“But you taught him family was leverage.”
“He already knew.”
That answer was colder than a confession.
Vanessa’s eyes filled.
“You ruin everybody.”
“No.”
Gideon stepped forward.
“I give people what they already want.”
“Grant wanted money.”
“Yes.”
“Thomas wanted rescue.”
“Yes.”
“And me?”
Gideon smiled.
“You wanted a father.”
Vanessa froze.
The words landed harder than any blow.
From upstairs, Maisie began crying.
“Vanessa?”
Gideon looked toward the hallway again.
“Stay here,” Vanessa called.
Gideon moved.
She raised the weapon.
“I said don’t.”
He stopped.
Then a second man crashed through the back door.
Keller.
Arm bandaged.
Gun raised.
Everything happened at once.
Vanessa turned.
Keller fired.
The shot hit the wall.
Vanessa fired back.
Gideon pulled a pistol from under his coat.
Maisie screamed upstairs.
Police shouted from outside.
“DROP THE WEAPON!”
Vanessa turned toward Gideon.
He saw the gun in her hand.
He fired.
Once.
Vanessa stumbled.
Her weapon fell.
Gideon froze.
Vanessa looked down at the blood spreading across her shirt.
Then at him.
For the first time, Gideon Voss looked afraid.
“Natalie?”
She laughed once.
A tiny sound.
“That’s the first time you called me that.”
She fell.
Police stormed the room.
Keller went down.
Gideon dropped his weapon and raised his hands.
Morales ran to Vanessa.
“Stay with me.”
Vanessa coughed.
“Maisie.”
“We have her.”
“Door.”
“What?”
“Keep the door open.”
Morales squeezed her hand.
“It’s open.”
Paramedics rushed in.
Vanessa looked past Morales.
Gideon was on his knees in handcuffs.
She whispered, “Tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
“The test.”
Morales understood.
Vanessa’s eyes closed.
At the hospital, surgeons worked for almost two hours.
At 2:14 a.m., Vanessa Calloway—born Natalie Mercer—died.
The next morning, Gideon Voss sat in a holding cell.
Morales entered with a laboratory report.
He looked older.
“What is that?”
“Emergency comparison from evidence obtained from both of you.”
Gideon said nothing.
Morales slid the paper across the table.
Probability of paternity: 99.998%.
Gideon stared at it.
A long time.
Then he sat down.
For the first time since Morales had met him, Gideon Voss had nothing to say.
The woman he had manipulated.
Used.
Threatened.
May you like
And finally shot—
had been his daughter.
