Chapter 2 - THE CHILD WHO WAS OFFICIALLY DEAD
Grant crossed the room before Victor could unlock the screen.
He took the phone from his hand.
Victor stared at him.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
“Finding out who you were about to call.”
Victor’s expression hardened.
“I am your attorney.”
“Then start acting like it.”
Grant handed the phone to Marian.
“Take Sophie downstairs with Thomas.”
Sophie refused to release his sleeve.
“No.”
Grant bent down.
“I need to ask him questions.”
“He lies.”
“I know.”
That answer seemed to calm her.
Marian gently led Sophie away.
The second the door closed, Grant faced Victor.
“Why does she know you?”
“She doesn’t.”
“Wrong answer.”
Victor sighed.
“I’ve donated to Haven House.”
“You told me you only knew it by reputation.”
Silence.
Grant stepped closer.
“You lied to me thirty minutes ago.”
Victor picked up his briefcase.
“You are allowing an emotionally disturbed homeless child to distort your judgment.”
Grant’s hand closed around the briefcase handle.
“You’re not leaving.”
For the first time, Victor looked angry.
“You do not get to detain me.”
“No.”
“But I can fire you.”
Grant released the case.
“You’re terminated.”
Victor’s face went blank.
Grant continued.
“Every company credential you have will be disabled before you reach the elevator.”
Victor stared at him.
“You have no idea what you’re stepping into.”
Grant heard the words for what they were.
Not advice.
A warning.
Victor left without another word.
Twenty minutes later, Owen Keller arrived.
The retired investigator had once worked major crimes before building a quiet private practice.
He spread photocopied documents across Grant’s conference table.
“Haven House is licensed.”
“Barely.”
“It has changed directors three times in eight years.”
Grant scanned the paperwork.
“Who runs it now?”
“Evelyn Shaw.”
Sophie, now wearing a clean sweater Marian had found, whispered from the sofa.
“She makes us call her Mother Evelyn.”
Owen glanced at her.
“Do you know why Luke isn’t listed as missing?”
Sophie nodded.
“Because he wasn’t supposed to exist.”
Grant looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
She pulled her knees against her chest.
“Mrs. Shaw said nobody would look for a dead boy.”
Owen’s eyes sharpened.
Grant felt sick.
“Can you prove he was there?”
Sophie nodded.
“There’s a room downstairs.”
“No windows.”
“Luke slept there when important people visited.”
Grant stood.
“We’re going to Haven House.”
Owen immediately shook his head.
“No.”
“If they are hiding evidence, walking through the front door warns them.”
Grant hated that he was right.
Owen opened another file.
“I found something else.”
He placed a hospital record on the table.
The document was seven years old.
Patient name.
Claire Mercer.
Grant stared at it.
Pregnancy status.
Positive.
Estimated gestation.
Eight weeks.
Grant gripped the edge of the table.
“She was pregnant.”
Owen nodded.
“The week she disappeared from your life.”
Grant could barely speak.
“She never told me.”
Sophie slowly approached.
“My mom used to cry when she talked about my dad.”
Grant turned toward her.
“What did she say?”
Sophie’s answer cut deeper than any accusation.
“She said my dad thought she betrayed him.”
Grant remembered the final argument.
The photographs Victor had shown him.
Claire entering a hotel with another man.
The bank records suggesting she had taken money.
The message on his phone telling him never to contact her again.
Grant suddenly looked at Owen.
“Who gave me the evidence that Claire was cheating?”
Owen already knew the answer.
Victor Hale.
Then Marian entered holding Grant’s old phone records.
Her hands were shaking.
“There’s something you need to see.”
She placed a printed log in front of him.
On the night Claire supposedly sent Grant her final message, Claire’s phone had not been anywhere near Chicago.
Its signal came from a building forty miles away.
May you like
Grant recognized the address.
It belonged to Victor Hale.
