Chapter 4 - The Voice on the Phone
I called the number back.
Disconnected.
Quinn took my phone.
“Don’t keep trying.”
“That was Elena.”
“I know.”
“She called me.”
“I heard.”
“She’s alive.”
“And whoever has her may now panic because she managed to reach you.”
I stared at Quinn.
“Then find her.”
“We will.”
“No.”
“You find her tonight.”
Quinn did not react to my anger.
Instead, she handed the phone to Pike.
“Trace everything.”
Pike walked toward his vehicle.
I followed.
“The picture.”
“What about it?”
“Can you identify where it was taken?”
“Possibly.”
“The newspaper?”
“Local editions sometimes help.”
“The chair?”
“Furniture manufacturers.”
“The wall?”
“We’ll analyze all of it.”
I hated the calmness of investigation.
My wife had just whispered my name after eleven months of silence.
Every cell in my body wanted movement.
Quinn forced me to stand still.
At 2:18 a.m., I finally left Lake Ashford.
I returned home just before four.
Maria was asleep on the sofa beside Ilaria’s wheelchair.
Ilaria was curled against her beneath a blanket.
For several minutes, I simply watched my daughter breathe.
Then her eyes opened.
“Daddy?”
“I’m here.”
“Did you find Mommy?”
I knelt.
“Not yet.”
Her face fell.
“But I heard her voice.”
Ilaria sat up.
“Mommy talked?”
“Yes.”
“Is she coming home?”
I could not lie.
“I’m going to do everything I can.”
She thought for a moment.
Then she whispered:
“Madeline said Mommy couldn’t come home.”
“Why?”
“She said Mommy made bad people angry.”
“What bad people?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she say who?”
Ilaria closed her eyes.
“No.”
I kissed her forehead.
“You don’t have to remember tonight.”
She caught my sleeve.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Madeline has Mommy’s red box.”
“What red box?”
“The box Mommy yelled about.”
Another fragment.
Another piece.
I called Quinn immediately.
She answered sounding exhausted.
“What?”
“Ilaria remembers a red box.”
“Slow down.”
“She says Madeline had it.”
“What kind of box?”
I asked Ilaria.
“What did it look like?”
She held her hands about twelve inches apart.
“Red.”
“That’s all?”
“It had Daddy’s bird.”
I frowned.
“My bird?”
She nodded.
Then I understood.
The Bellamy family crest included a silver falcon.
My father had used the symbol on private company documents.
A red document case with a silver falcon had once belonged to him.
After his death, I gave it to Elena.
“What was inside?”
Ilaria shook her head.
“Mommy papers.”
I told Quinn.
She became silent.
“Daniel, do you know what Elena kept in that case?”
“No.”
“Think.”
I did.
Then something surfaced.
Six weeks before Elena disappeared, she had started reviewing company accounts.
She had been an attorney before Ilaria was born.
When she noticed discrepancies in one of our charitable foundations, she offered to help investigate.
I had dismissed the irregularities as accounting mistakes.
Elena had not.
“Financial records.”
“What kind?”
“Bellamy Hope Foundation.”
“What is that?”
“A medical charity.”
“How much money?”
“About thirty million in annual donations.”
Quinn whistled softly.
“Who controls it?”
“I do.”
“Anyone else?”
“Board members.”
“Names.”
I listed them.
Then I reached one name and stopped.
“Marcus Reed.”
Quinn said nothing.
“He was on the board.”
“Yes.”
“Madeline?”
“No.”
“Any connection?”
“Madeline worked for Hartwell Consulting.”
“Which handled?”
I suddenly remembered.
“Vendor compliance.”
Quinn exhaled.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“A reason.”
I hated the word.
A reason sounded neat.
Nothing about what had happened was neat.
“What did Elena find?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then find the red case.”
Madeline’s belongings were still in the house.
Police had already instructed me not to touch anything.
By six that morning, Quinn returned with a warrant.
Officers searched Madeline’s room.
Her closet.
Her office.
Her car was being processed separately.
No red case.
But Pike found a hidden compartment beneath the bottom drawer of her desk.
Inside were three prepaid phones.
A stack of cash.
Two passports.
One belonged to Madeline.
The other showed her photograph under another name.
“Caroline West.”
Quinn studied it.
“She was prepared to disappear.”
Pike opened another envelope.
Inside were printed photographs.
My house.
My office.
Ilaria’s preschool.
Maria’s apartment.
And photographs of Elena taken before she vanished.
Some were from across the street.
Others from restaurants.
One showed Elena entering a bank.
Another showed her meeting a man I did not recognize.
On the back, Madeline had written:
CARTER KNOWS.
Quinn photographed it.
“Who is Carter?”
“I don’t know.”
Pike searched the name against Elena’s phone records.
Twenty minutes later, he found a likely match.
Thomas Carter.
Forensic accountant.
Former federal investigator.
Elena had called him fourteen times during the month before she disappeared.
He had never appeared in the original case file.
Quinn frowned.
“That shouldn’t happen.”
“Why didn’t police contact him?”
“If he was in her phone records, we should have.”
I stared at her.
“Were her phone records complete?”
Quinn’s expression changed.
She opened an old case file on her tablet.
Then she began scrolling.
“I requested them.”
“And?”
“The report says no additional relevant contacts.”
“Who wrote the report?”
She scrolled upward.
Her face hardened.
“Detective Samuel Breen.”
I remembered him.
Breen had been Quinn’s partner during the first two months of the investigation.
He retired suddenly afterward.
“Where is he now?”
“Florida.”
“Call him.”
“I will.”
Pike interrupted.
“I found Carter.”
“Where?”
“He lives thirty minutes away.”
Quinn looked at me.
“You stay here.”
I ignored her and followed them to the door.
She turned.
“Daniel.”
“My wife trusted this man enough to call him fourteen times.”
“And if someone has been watching him, your presence could expose him.”
That stopped me.
“Call me.”
“I will.”
Quinn and Pike left.
I went upstairs.
Ilaria was awake.
Maria was helping her eat cereal.
I sat across from them.
Ilaria looked at my empty ring finger.
“Madeline is not marrying you?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
For the first time since I came home, she smiled.
It lasted only a second.
But it nearly broke me.
Then she asked:
“Does that mean she can’t be my new mommy?”
“No one is replacing Mommy.”
Ilaria looked at her spoon.
“Madeline said you wanted a new family.”
My stomach twisted.
“She said Mommy was broken.”
“I never said that.”
“She said you would forget Mommy.”
“I never will.”
Ilaria looked at me.
Then she whispered:
“Mommy said that too.”
“What?”
“That you wouldn’t forget.”
“When did she say that?”
“At the blue house.”
I leaned forward.
“What else did Mommy say?”
Ilaria concentrated.
Then her eyes widened.
“She gave something to the man.”
“What man?”
“Not broken-finger man.”
“A different man?”
“Yes.”
“What did he look like?”
“Glasses.”
“Was he old?”
She shrugged.
“What did she give him?”
“A red box.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“Mommy gave the red box to a man with glasses?”
“Yes.”
“Then how did Madeline get it?”
Ilaria frowned.
“She took it after he fell down.”
I stopped breathing.
“What do you mean he fell down?”
“Outside.”
“Did somebody hurt him?”
Ilaria looked frightened.
I backed off immediately.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
She stared into the cereal bowl.
Then she whispered:
“Mommy said run.”
My phone rang.
Quinn.
I answered.
“Did you find Carter?”
Quinn did not respond immediately.
“Quinn?”
“We found his house.”
“And?”
“It’s empty.”
“Maybe he moved.”
“No.”
“What do you mean?”
“There is food in the refrigerator.”
“Mail on the table.”
“His vehicle is in the garage.”
“How long has he been gone?”
“We don’t know.”
Then Pike spoke in the background.
Quinn told me to hold.
I heard them moving.
A door opened.
Pike said something I could not understand.
Quinn returned.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“We found the red case.”
I stood.
“You found it?”
“Yes.”
“At Carter’s?”
“In a hidden safe.”
“Is it empty?”
“No.”
“What’s inside?”
“Records.”
“Photographs.”
“And a flash drive.”
I closed my eyes.
“Bring it.”
“There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“Carter left a handwritten note inside.”
“What does it say?”
Quinn read it slowly.
IF ELENA IS MISSING, DO NOT TRUST THE POLICE.
I felt every muscle in my body tighten.
Then she read the second line.
ESPECIALLY SAMUEL BREEN.
And the third line was worse.
May you like
MARCUS REED IS NOT WORKING ALONE.
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