Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN EMERALD
Vanessa Whitmore changed clothes in the back seat of a moving car.
The emerald gown disappeared beneath a gray coat.
Diamonds came off.
Her hair went under a baseball cap.
By midnight, the glamorous woman who had stood above Evelyn on the staircase looked like someone else entirely.
The driver glanced at her through the mirror.
“You weren't supposed to touch her.”
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
“She provoked me.”
“That wasn't the plan.”
“She knew about the accounts.”
“You still weren't supposed to touch her.”
Vanessa leaned forward.
“Don't lecture me.”
The driver laughed.
“You think your brother is going to protect you?”
“He always has.”
“Not tonight.”
Vanessa stopped.
“What does that mean?”
The driver didn't answer.
“Where are we going?”
“Safe house.”
“Whose?”
Still no answer.
Vanessa reached for the door handle.
The locks clicked.
She stared at the driver.
“Unlock the door.”
“No.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Yes.”
“Then unlock it.”
The driver met her eyes in the mirror.
“I know exactly who you are.”
For the first time, Vanessa felt afraid.
Back at the hospital, Evelyn showed Marcus the photograph of Rosa.
Marcus had arrived personally.
He studied the image.
“Don't respond.”
“They'll hurt her.”
“They may hurt her regardless.”
“I can't do nothing.”
“You won't.”
Marcus enlarged the photograph.
Behind Rosa was a concrete wall.
A rusted pipe.
A yellow industrial light.
Marcus zoomed farther.
A small logo was visible on a metal cabinet.
Evelyn recognized it.
“Whitmore Shipping.”
Marcus looked at her.
“You're sure?”
“My husband owns six warehouses.”
“Which one looks like this?”
“I've only visited two.”
“Think.”
Evelyn studied the picture.
Then she saw a blue stripe painted along the wall.
“Dock Seven.”
“How do you know?”
“Daniel complained about that color.”
Marcus called his team.
“Possible hostage at Whitmore Shipping, Dock Seven.”
He looked at Evelyn.
“I'm going.”
“So am I.”
“No.”
“Rosa risked her life for me.”
“You're in premature labor.”
“Marcus.”
“No.”
She tried to stand.
Pain doubled her over.
Marcus caught her.
The doctor rushed inside.
“Mrs. Whitmore!”
Evelyn gasped.
Marcus lowered her back onto the bed.
“You can't save Rosa if you lose your child.”
The words stopped her.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Find her.”
“I will.”
Marcus left.
Thirty minutes later, police vehicles surrounded Dock Seven.
No sirens.
No flashing lights.
Marcus entered with the tactical team.
The warehouse was dark.
They found the chair.
They found rope.
They found blood.
But Rosa was gone.
On the floor beneath the chair sat an envelope.
Marcus opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Evelyn's father.
Thomas Carter.
Alive.
The date printed on the photograph was impossible.
It had been taken three days after Thomas Carter's funeral.
Marcus stared at it.
An officer approached.
“Detective?”
Marcus didn't answer.
Because the man standing beside Thomas Carter in the photograph was someone Marcus recognized.
Daniel Whitmore.
And behind them was Rosa.
Much younger.
But unmistakably Rosa.
Marcus immediately called Evelyn.
She answered on the first ring.
“Did you find her?”
“No.”
Evelyn's voice broke.
“But I found something else.”
“What?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Your father may not have died when you thought he did.”
Silence.
“What did you say?”
“I found a photograph.”
“No.”
“Evelyn.”
“I saw him.”
“What?”
“In the coffin.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“Then we need to find out who was in that coffin.”
At the same time, Vanessa's car stopped outside an abandoned estate.
The driver opened her door.
“Out.”
Vanessa stepped into the rain.
“Where are we?”
No answer.
She was led inside.
The house smelled damp.
A light burned in the basement.
Vanessa descended the stairs.
Then she stopped.
Rosa was tied to a chair.
Vanessa stared.
“You?”
Rosa lifted her head.
“You should have run farther.”
Vanessa turned toward the driver.
“What is this?”
A man stepped from the shadows.
Vanessa's mouth opened.
“No.”
The man was older now.
His hair was almost completely gray.
His face carried scars she had never seen.
But she recognized him.
Everyone in the Whitmore family would have recognized him.
Because his portrait had hung inside the Carter Foundation headquarters for years.
Thomas Carter.
Evelyn's father.
A man officially dead for four years.
Vanessa backed toward the stairs.
“You're dead.”
Thomas looked at her calmly.
“No, Vanessa.”
May you like
He closed the basement door.
“But someone is about to wish I was.”
