Chapter 4 - The Man in the Gray SedanBy sunrise, Alexander Blackwood had transformed his sister’s apartment into a fortress.
He went anyway.
By midnight, rain covered the highway leading north from the city.
Lily had expected to be sent home after giving her statement.
Instead, Alexander asked whether she and Sophie could stay at his sister Rachel’s apartment until the situation was clearer.
Vivienne had been taken in for questioning regarding the assault and attempted framing.
Derek had been arrested for unlawful entry, evidence destruction, and suspicion of conspiracy.
But none of that explained the storage key.
Lily should have walked away.
Any sensible person would have.
She had almost been framed for felony theft.
She had been attacked.
She had watched the wealthy family she worked for crack open in a single evening.
Yet Sophie had clung to her, refusing to let go.
So Lily stayed.
Alexander left Sophie with Rachel.
Then, unexpectedly, he asked Lily one question.
“Would you come with me?”
“To the storage facility?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you saw what happened tonight. And because I’m no longer sure who around me I can trust.”
That answer frightened her more than anything else.
Briarwood Storage sat behind an abandoned shopping center forty minutes outside Manhattan.
Detective Nora Hayes, assigned to the case, met them there.
Marcus came too.
The facility manager unlocked the main gate.
“Unit 317 has been paid in cash for nine years,” he explained.
“By whom?” Nora asked.
“Different people. Never the same one twice.”
Alexander looked at Marcus.
Marcus shook his head.
“I’ve never been here.”
They reached the unit.
Nora inserted the key.
The metal door rolled upward.
Dust floated through the flashlight beams.
Inside were six cardboard boxes.
A filing cabinet.
An old wooden desk.
And photographs.
Hundreds of them.
Pinned across the rear wall.
Alexander stopped.
Lily felt him inhale sharply beside her.
The photographs showed Evan Blackwood.
At first.
School photographs.
Family photographs.
Newspaper clippings from his disappearance.
Then newer images appeared.
Grainy photographs of train stations.
Hotels.
Airports.
Men who resembled Evan.
Each had dates written beneath them.
And finally—
One photograph dated only six months earlier.
Alexander moved closer.
A man stood outside a small clinic in Vermont.
Older.
Bearded.
But unmistakably connected to the boy in Alexander’s phone.
Alexander touched the photograph.
“That’s him.”
Nora said carefully, “We don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Lily looked at the wall.
Someone had continued investigating Evan for more than a decade.
Secretly.
“Why would Vivienne want you to stop looking?”
Alexander stared at the image.
“I stopped active searches years ago.”
“Maybe someone thought you started again.”
Marcus opened one of the boxes.
“Sir.”
Inside were financial documents.
Payments from a foundation.
Lily recognized the logo.
The Blackwood Family Trust.
Alexander snatched up a statement.
“These accounts were closed after my father died.”
Nora examined it.
“Apparently not all of them.”
Transfers had been made every three months.
Twenty thousand dollars.
Thirty thousand.
Sometimes fifty.
All routed through shell companies.
One recipient appeared repeatedly.
D. Sloan Consulting.
Derek.
Alexander turned white with fury.
“He’s been paid from my family’s money.”
Marcus opened another folder.
Inside were copies of passports.
Fake names.
Medical records.
Lily picked up a photograph that had fallen onto the floor.
It showed Vivienne.
Much younger.
Standing beside a man Lily had never seen.
Behind them was Evan.
Alive.
The date on the photograph was six months after his supposed disappearance.
“Alexander.”
He turned.
Lily handed it to him.
The entire room seemed to shrink.
Vivienne looked barely twenty.
Evan looked frightened.
And between them stood an older man wearing a signet ring.
Alexander recognized him immediately.
“My father.”
Nora frowned.
“Your father knew your brother was alive?”
Alexander didn’t answer.
He looked as though someone had struck him.
His father, Charles Blackwood, had died eight years earlier.
Alexander had spent his entire adulthood believing the man had financed endless searches for Evan.
If the photograph was genuine, Charles had lied.
For years.
Lily studied the image again.
“Who was Vivienne back then?”
Alexander’s voice was hollow.
“Her mother worked for my father.”
“Doing what?”
“She managed one of his private foundations.”
Nora looked toward the boxes.
“So your wife may have known your missing brother before she ever met you?”
Alexander closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Marcus stepped toward the back wall.
“There’s something behind here.”
He moved a stack of framed photographs.
A small metal door had been built into the unit.
Nora immediately stopped him.
“Nobody touches it until forensics arrives.”
But a sound came from the other side.
Everyone froze.
A faint thud.
Then another.
Lily’s skin prickled.
Nora drew her weapon.
“Police! If someone is inside, identify yourself.”
Silence.
Another thud.
Marcus found a second latch near the floor.
Nora opened the door.
A narrow room appeared.
Empty except for a chair.
A table.
A portable computer.
And a small television monitor.
The monitor was on.
Static filled the screen.
Then the image changed.
A live video feed appeared.
Sophie.
Sleeping in Rachel’s guest room.
Lily’s blood turned cold.
Alexander lunged toward the monitor.
“What the hell?”
Nora grabbed the laptop.
“Someone is watching your daughter.”
Alexander called Rachel.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
“Call the local police,” Nora ordered.
Marcus was already speaking into his phone.
Alexander’s breathing became ragged.
Lily grabbed his arm.
“Sophie has security with her.”
“So did my brother.”
The words came out almost broken.
His phone rang.
Rachel.
Alexander answered instantly.
“Rachel?”
Her voice was frantic.
“Alex, someone tried to get into the apartment.”
Lily covered her mouth.
“Is Sophie okay?”
“She’s with me. Security scared him off.”
Alexander leaned against the desk.
“Don’t open the door for anyone.”
Nora stared at the monitor.
“Whoever set this up knew where Sophie would be tonight.”
Everyone slowly turned toward Marcus.
Because only four people had known.
Alexander.
Lily.
Rachel.
And Marcus.
Marcus’s face hardened.
“You think I told someone?”
Nora didn’t answer.
Lily noticed something on the desk.
A photograph.
It had been placed beneath the keyboard.
She pulled it out.
Alexander and Sophie were walking through Central Park.
The picture had been taken three days earlier.
Written across the bottom in black ink were six words.
HE LOST ONE SON. TAKE THE GIRL.
Alexander stared at it.
Then Lily saw something else.
A reflection in a storefront window behind Alexander.
The photographer’s face was barely visible.
She leaned closer.
Her stomach dropped.
“I know him.”
Alexander turned.
“Who?”
Lily pointed.
“The man in the reflection.”
She had seen him several times outside Sophie’s school.
Always sitting in the same gray sedan.
She had assumed he was someone’s driver.
But now she remembered something else.
Two weeks earlier, Sophie had waved at him.
Lily had asked who he was.
Sophie had answered:
May you like
“Grandpa’s friend.”
Alexander’s father had been dead for eight years.
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