Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO DISAPPEAREDJessica Nolan did not look like a woman returning from the dead.
She looked like someone who had spent fourteen months wishing she were dead.
Grant had her brought into a secure conference room instead of the lobby.
No cameras.
No staff.
Only Grant, Claire, Ethan, Daniel, and a female physician Grant trusted.
Jessica refused medical treatment until she saw Claire.
When Claire entered with Owen, Jessica stared at the baby for so long that everyone became uncomfortable.
Then tears filled her eyes.
“He’s still with you.”
Claire sat across from her.
“Yes.”
Jessica nodded slowly.
“Keep it that way.”
Her coat was dirty.
One sleeve was torn.
There was dried blood near her collar, but the doctor determined it came from a shallow cut behind her ear.
Jessica’s hands shook constantly.
Grant poured water.
She did not touch it.
Claire asked the question everyone wanted answered.
“Where have you been?”
Jessica looked toward the door.
“Is it locked?”
“Yes,” Ethan said.
“Can anyone hear us?”
“No.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
Jessica finally breathed.
Then she spoke.
“Northlake.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“The company?”
Jessica shook her head.
“A house.”
Grant frowned.
“What house?”
“They call it Willow House.”
Daniel began typing notes.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were there fourteen months.”
“There were no windows in my room.”
The doctor looked at Grant.
He saw the concern in her face.
Jessica continued.
“They told everyone I left Illinois voluntarily.”
Her voice was flat.
“They made me record a video saying I needed time away.”
“Who made you?” Claire asked.
“Caroline Voss.”
Claire stiffened.
Jessica saw the reaction.
“You know her?”
“She came to my hospital room.”
Jessica’s face drained of color.
“You need to leave Chicago.”
Grant interrupted.
“She’s not leaving.”
Jessica turned toward him.
“You’re Grant Whitmore.”
“Yes.”
“You think money protects people.”
“It protects more than having none.”
“That’s what my husband thought.”
Daniel glanced up.
“Councilman Nolan?”
Jessica gave a bitter laugh.
“Patrick wasn’t the victim.”
Grant watched her carefully.
“He was part of it?”
Jessica did not answer immediately.
Then she rolled up her sleeve.
Several old scars marked her forearm.
Claire covered Owen’s head instinctively.
Jessica spoke quietly.
“My daughter’s name is Emma.”
“She was six weeks old when Patrick filed his petition.”
“Northlake produced a report saying I showed signs of postpartum psychosis.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Were you evaluated by a psychiatrist?”
“Eventually.”
“What did they conclude?”
“That I was exhausted and depressed.”
“That’s not psychosis,” the doctor said.
Jessica nodded.
“But the official report was changed.”
“By whom?” Grant asked.
“I don’t know.”
Daniel typed faster.
Jessica continued.
“Patrick got temporary custody.”
“I was allowed supervised visits.”
“Then one afternoon, Caroline told me Emma had a fever and had been taken to another facility.”
“She said she could drive me there.”
Claire whispered, “You got in the car.”
Jessica looked at her.
“I was a mother whose baby was sick.”
Of course she got in the car.
Nobody needed to say it.
“I woke up in a locked room.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“Drugged?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Were there other women?”
Jessica looked at him.
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Seven while I was there.”
Claire stopped breathing for a second.
“Were they mothers?”
“All of them.”
Jessica finally reached for the water.
Her hand shook so badly that Claire steadied the glass.
“They told us we were in a private treatment facility.”
“But it wasn’t licensed.”
Daniel looked up.
“You’re sure?”
“I asked one of the nurses.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me licensed places leave paper trails.”
Silence.
Grant felt the shape of the conspiracy expanding.
This was not about custody.
This was about removal.
Control.
Containment.
“What happened to the women?” he asked.
“Some were released.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“One woman named Marissa signed papers giving up custody.”
“Why?”
Jessica looked at Grant with empty eyes.
“Because they stopped letting her sleep.”
Claire looked sick.
Jessica continued.
“They would wake her every forty minutes.”
“For days.”
“Then they put custody papers in front of her.”
“She signed.”
The doctor whispered, “That’s coercion.”
Jessica laughed without humor.
“They weren’t trying to treat us.”
“They were trying to break us.”
Claire looked down at Owen.
Grant noticed her fingers trembling against his blanket.
“How did you escape?” Ethan asked.
Jessica’s gaze moved toward him.
“There was a fire.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
Daniel immediately searched.
“There was a warehouse fire near Cicero.”
Jessica shook her head.
“Not a warehouse.”
“Could be registered as one.”
Grant turned.
“Find it.”
Daniel nodded.
Jessica continued.
“Smoke got into the hallway.”
“A guard opened three doors.”
“I hit him with a metal tray.”
Ethan almost smiled.
“Good.”
Jessica looked at him.
“I thought I killed him.”
“You didn’t,” Grant said.
“How do you know?”
“Because if you had, I’d still say good.”
Claire looked at Grant.
Something passed between them.
Then Jessica’s expression changed.
“I heard them talking before I escaped.”
“Who?” Grant asked.
“Caroline and a man.”
“Patrick?”
“No.”
“Mason?”
Jessica shook her head.
“I didn’t know his name.”
“What did he say?”
Jessica’s eyes moved to Owen.
Claire noticed.
“What?”
Jessica lowered her voice.
“He said they needed the Bennett baby before Friday.”
Claire went completely still.
Owen made a tiny sound.
She held him closer.
“Why?”
Jessica shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Grant leaned forward.
“Think.”
“I am.”
“Exact words.”
Jessica closed her eyes.
“He said, ‘Hale wants the Bennett baby before Friday. The paperwork has already been cleaned.’”
Grant looked at Daniel.
“Hale.”
“Richard or Mason,” Daniel said.
Claire stood.
“I’m leaving.”
Grant rose.
“No.”
“They know I’m here.”
“That’s why leaving is dangerous.”
“They know my baby’s name.”
“They already knew that.”
“They know they need him before Friday.”
Grant moved around the table.
“Claire.”
“No.”
She backed away.
“I stayed because you said this was safe.”
“It is.”
“Jessica was locked in a room for fourteen months.”
“And she’s here now.”
“Because she escaped a fire!”
Her voice cracked.
Owen startled.
Claire immediately lowered her tone.
“I can’t let that happen to him.”
Grant answered quietly.
“It won’t.”
“You can’t know that.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“But I can make them come into the light.”
Claire stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means men like Richard Hale win because nobody wants to challenge them publicly.”
“I do.”
Daniel cleared his throat.
“Grant, before you declare war on half the city, you might want to see this.”
He turned the laptop.
A corporate filing showed Northlake Family Services.
Below it were three directors.
Caroline Voss.
Samuel Crane.
And Lydia Whitmore.
Grant stopped breathing.
Claire looked at him.
“Whitmore?”
Daniel’s expression was grim.
“Grant’s sister.”
Claire turned back toward Grant.
Grant’s face had gone unreadable.
“My sister has been living in London for eight years.”
Daniel shook his head.
“According to this filing, she has been a silent director of Northlake for eleven.”
Grant stared at the screen.
“That’s impossible.”
“The signature is verified.”
“No.”
Grant rarely sounded uncertain.
He did now.
Claire watched him.
“What does your sister have to do with this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then ask her.”
Grant reached for his phone.
He dialed.
It rang twice.
Then a recorded voice answered.
The number you are calling is no longer in service.
Grant slowly lowered the phone.
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“When did you last speak to Lydia?”
“Three months ago.”
“Video?”
“No.”
“Phone?”
“Yes.”
“Did she call you?”
Grant thought.
“Yes.”
“From what number?”
“A British number.”
Daniel typed.
Then his expression changed again.
“What?”
“That number wasn’t British.”
Grant looked at him.
“It was routed through a virtual exchange.”
Claire whispered, “Someone could have been pretending to call from London.”
Grant did not answer.
Because suddenly he remembered something.
Three months ago, “Lydia” had asked him strange questions.
How many residential properties did he own?
Which buildings had private medical facilities?
Did Whitmore Tower keep vacant apartments furnished?
At the time, he had assumed she was being curious.
Now he understood.
Someone had been asking whether he had places to hide people.
Grant turned toward Ethan.
“Get the car.”
“Where are we going?”
“My mother’s house.”
Daniel frowned.
“Why?”
“Because my mother speaks to Lydia every Sunday.”
Claire stepped forward.
“You’re leaving?”
Grant looked at her.
“Ethan stays.”
“No.”
“You need security.”
“So do you.”
Grant almost argued.
Instead, he looked at Ethan.
“Four men upstairs. Two at every stairwell.”
Then Jessica suddenly stood.
“Wait.”
Everyone turned.
She was staring through the glass wall of the conference room toward the hallway.
A maintenance worker pushed a cart past the door.
Jessica’s face collapsed.
“That’s him.”
Ethan’s hand moved instantly beneath his jacket.
“Who?”
“The guard.”
“What guard?”
“The one from Willow House.”
The maintenance worker looked through the glass.
For half a second, his eyes met Jessica’s.
Then he ran.
Ethan was already moving.
He hit the door at full speed.
Grant shoved Claire behind him.
The hallway erupted.
A cart crashed.
Someone shouted.
Then came the sound Grant feared most.
Not a gunshot.
A fire alarm.
Red lights began flashing.
Claire stared at him.
“No.”
Smoke started pouring from a ventilation grate.
The elevators shut down automatically.
Ethan’s voice came through Grant’s radio.
“Grant, this is a diversion!”
Then the entire tower lost power.
The room went black.
Claire screamed Owen’s name.
Grant grabbed her hand.
“Stay with me.”
Emergency lights flickered on.
Jessica was gone.
The chair where she had been sitting was empty.
May you like
And on the glass wall, written from the outside in red marker, were six words.
GIVE US THE CHILD BY FRIDAY.
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