Chapter 4 - A Father’s Version
Julian returned before Ortiz reached the ballroom.
He entered the conference room carrying his coat.
At seventy, he still moved like the owner of every building he entered.
“Alexander.
Come home.”
His son stood beside the table.
“Where is Elise?”
Julian looked at the ultrasound.
For half a second, his face changed.
Then it smoothed over.
“That woman has caused enough damage.”
Alexander went still.
Not died.
Not been buried.
Caused damage.
“You know she’s alive.”
Julian sighed.
The sound was almost bored.
“I know you’re upset.”
“Answer me.”
“Elise had problems you never understood.”
Ortiz stepped forward.
“Mr. Whitmore, when did you last see her?”
“I won’t participate in a spectacle.”
“You’re welcome to give your statement somewhere quieter.”
Rebecca’s phone vibrated.
She glanced at the screen and moved away to answer.
Julian turned to me.
“You have a daughter.”
Alexander stepped between us.
“Don’t.”
“I was going to say that a parent should understand protecting family.”
I looked directly at him.
“My daughter told the truth.
What did yours do?”
His eyes hardened.
Rebecca returned.
“The address on the ultrasound is empty.
Westbridge moved operations two months ago.”
Price closed his eyes.
Ortiz noticed.
“You know where they went.”
“My records are at the clinic.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He looked at Julian.
That was answer enough.
Rebecca opened another document on her phone.
“The missing-person report is real.
A nurse named Ruth Delaney reported Elise Mercer missing six months ago.”
Alexander sat.
For the first time, he looked less angry than sick.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“The report didn’t connect her to you.
Ruth knew her as Elise Mercer.
She said Elise was frightened and asked her not to contact the Whitmores.”
“My wife asked someone not to call me?”
Nobody answered.
Julian adjusted his cuffs.
“You see?
There are reasons.”
Ortiz asked him to remain available and left with Price for a recorded interview.
Julian’s attorney arrived seven minutes later.
Money moved faster than ambulances in that family.
I called the number attached to the missing-person flyer.
A woman answered on the sixth ring.
I introduced myself.
Then I said Elise’s name.
The woman began crying.
“Did you find her?”
“Not yet.”
“Is he there?”
“Who?”
“Her husband.”
I looked at Alexander.
“Yes.”
Ruth’s voice dropped.
“Before you put him on, ask him something.”
May you like
“What?”
“Ask him whether he remembers signing the papers that put her away.”
