Chapter 8 - The Doctor Beside Her BedDr. Lena Brooks entered Evelyn’s room carrying a syringe.
Evelyn hated every second of it.
Doctors transferred her to an interior maternity unit with no external windows while police searched surrounding buildings.
Daniel called from Westchester.
“I’m coming back.”
“No.”
“I’m not discussing this.”
“You’re exactly where Grant expects you to be emotionally.”
“He put a rifle scope on you.”
“I know.”
“And our son.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t tell me to remain calm.”
“I didn’t.”
Evelyn lowered her voice.
“I’m telling you to think.”
Daniel leaned against the side of the SUV.
“You’re asking me to negotiate while he targets you.”
“I’m asking you not to give him another reaction he can control.”
Silence.
That was Grant’s pattern.
Vanessa’s jealousy.
Daniel’s anger.
Charles’s guilt.
Every person became easiest to manipulate when emotion drowned judgment.
“What does he want?” Evelyn asked.
“Charles to publicly confess what happened to Jonathan.”
“Then why involve you?”
“Because he wants me to lose everything too.”
“Why?”
Daniel looked at his father sitting in the opposite vehicle.
“Because I inherited the life he thinks his father should have had.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Then this is bigger than money.”
“Yes.”
“Hurt people can become dangerous when they decide suffering is inheritance.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“You sound like a nurse.”
“I am a nurse.”
“You’re also terrifyingly rational for someone who was attacked yesterday.”
“I’m rational because I’m terrified.”
A nurse entered.
Evelyn said, “I have to go.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He hesitated.
“And Evelyn?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t try to solve this yourself.”
She looked at the laptop beside her.
“Of course not.”
Daniel knew that tone.
“Evelyn.”
She hung up.
The nurse smiled.
“You lied to your husband.”
“Marriage keeps life exciting.”
Evelyn opened the files she had copied before the attack.
Ashbury payments.
Thirty-two million dollars.
Most went offshore.
But some returned.
Circular transactions.
That bothered her.
Why steal money only to send part of it back?
She sorted dates.
Hospitals.
Recipients.
One repeated nonprofit appeared.
The Jonathan Holloway Center for Youth Recovery.
Evelyn froze.
Grant had been quietly funding a mental-health charity using stolen foundation money.
She searched deeper.
The clinic existed.
Pittsburgh.
It treated children and teenagers in psychiatric crisis.
Excellent reputation.
Anonymous benefactor.
Evelyn stared.
Grant wasn’t simply enriching himself.
At least twelve million had gone there.
That didn’t excuse theft.
But it revealed motive.
Jonathan had been abused through a psychiatric system.
Grant had built something in his father’s name.
Evelyn called Detective Morgan.
“Grant’s charity.”
“What?”
“Jonathan Holloway Center. Look at the board.”
Morgan searched.
“Nothing obvious.”
“Keep going.”
Silence.
Then Morgan inhaled.
“There.”
“What?”
“Executive director. Carol Holloway.”
Grant’s mother.
Alive.
Evelyn’s heart began pounding.
Everyone thought Carol died six years earlier because Grant had told Daniel so.
Another lie.
“Find her.”
Police located Carol in Pennsylvania.
But she refused to speak by phone.
Daniel arranged a helicopter.
Three hours remained.
Carol Holloway lived in a modest brick home outside Pittsburgh.
She was seventy-three.
Silver hair.
Thin frame.
Sharp eyes.
When Daniel appeared at her door, she stared at him for a long time.
“You look like Charles.”
“I’ve heard.”
“That isn’t a compliment.”
“I assumed.”
She almost closed the door.
Daniel said, “Grant threatened my pregnant wife.”
Carol stopped.
Something changed.
“Come inside.”
Her home contained photographs of Grant.
Childhood.
Graduation.
Cross Meridian launch.
Daniel appeared in dozens.
That surprised him.
Carol saw him noticing.
“He loved you.”
“Past tense?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
Charles entered behind Daniel.
Carol’s face transformed.
“You.”
Charles lowered his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
She slapped him.
Hard.
Daniel said nothing.
Neither did Charles.
Carol’s hand trembled.
“That was forty years late.”
“I deserved worse.”
“Yes.”
She turned away.
“Jonathan never recovered from what your family did.”
Charles whispered, “I know.”
“No. You know facts. I knew the man waking up screaming because he thought orderlies were coming for him.”
Charles looked destroyed.
Carol faced Daniel.
“Grant grew up listening to those screams.”
Daniel finally understood.
“What does he want?”
“Justice.”
“No. Justice doesn’t involve kicking pregnant women.”
Carol closed her eyes.
“You’re right.”
“Then help me stop him.”
She studied Daniel.
“He once promised me he wouldn’t hurt you.”
“When?”
“The day he left for Columbia.”
Daniel looked toward the photographs.
Grant’s friendship hadn’t been entirely fake.
Maybe that was the weakness.
Carol gave Daniel an old phone number.
“He calls this once a year on Jonathan’s birthday.”
Daniel dialed.
No answer.
He texted.
Your mother knows.
The phone rang immediately.
Grant.
Daniel answered.
“Hello?”
“You went to her.”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“She helped me understand.”
“You understand nothing.”
“I understand Jonathan was tortured because my grandfather cared more about reputation than his own son.”
Grant’s breathing changed.
“I understand Charles stayed silent.”
“Yes.”
“And I understand you grew up watching the damage.”
Silence.
“But Evelyn didn’t do that to him.”
Grant said nothing.
“My baby didn’t do it.”
“Don’t.”
“Vanessa didn’t do it.”
“Stop.”
“Marcus Bell didn’t do it.”
Grant’s voice hardened.
“I did not kill Marcus.”
“Then prove it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because the person who did is the one person you still haven’t questioned.”
Daniel frowned.
“Who?”
Grant laughed sadly.
“You still don’t see it.”
The call ended.
Daniel stared at the phone.
Carol had gone pale.
“What?”
Daniel looked at her.
“He says Marcus was killed by someone I haven’t questioned.”
Charles frowned.
“Who?”
Carol whispered,
“There’s someone else.”
Daniel turned.
“Who?”
“Jonathan had two children.”
The room went silent.
Grant had a sister.
And unlike Grant, she had not spent nineteen years standing beside Daniel.
“Her name is Rebecca.”
Daniel’s pulse quickened.
“Where is she?”
Carol’s eyes filled with dread.
“You know her as Dr. Lena Brooks.”
Daniel stopped breathing.
May you like
Evelyn’s obstetrician.
The woman currently alone inside the secure maternity unit with his wife.
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