Chapter 6 - THE DEAD MAN'S NAME"Uncle Peter?"
Linda repeated the words slowly.
I nodded.
"That's what Emily said."
"You're absolutely certain?"
"I've replayed it in my mind a hundred times."
We were sitting in the conference room at the county investigative office.
Detective Ruiz had arranged for me to remain nearby while investigators coordinated their search.
The building smelled of stale coffee and printer toner.
Normally, I would have found those details comforting.
They reminded me of the teachers' lounge.
But nothing in the world felt ordinary anymore.
"Daniel told Emily his uncle died in a boating accident," I said.
"How long ago?" Ruiz asked.
"Fifteen years."
"Did you ever meet him?"
"No."
"Did Daniel ever show you a death certificate?"
I stared at her.
"Why would he?"
"People sometimes accept family histories without questioning them."
Linda folded her arms.
"Especially when there's no reason to suspect anything."
Ruiz turned toward Detective Hale.
"Check Peter Whitmore. Full records. Property, death, criminal history, business affiliations."
Hale nodded and left.
I sat silently for a while.
Then I asked, "Do you think he's alive?"
"I don't know."
"But Emily wanted me to ask about him."
"Which suggests the name matters."
I thought of my daughter sitting somewhere with bruises on her arms, trying to squeeze information into a thirty-second phone call.
She had known Daniel would interrupt her.
She had known she might not get another chance.
And she'd chosen those words.
Ask Uncle Peter.
Why?
An hour later, Hale returned.
"Peter Whitmore isn't dead."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"There's no death record matching the information Daniel provided. Peter Andrew Whitmore, age sixty-two, is alive and currently living under his own name in rural Ohio."
"Where?"
"Near Lancaster."
Ruiz looked up sharply.
"How near?"
"About twelve miles from the old water-treatment facility."
My heart raced.
"Does he work with Daniel?"
"Not recently, according to the records we've located. In fact, they appear to have been estranged for years."
"Then why did Daniel say he died?"
Hale glanced at his notes.
"Peter was investigated in connection with irregularities involving a family construction company fifteen years ago. The case never resulted in a conviction."
"Who owned the company?" Linda asked.
"Patricia Whitmore and her late husband."
There was that name again.
Patricia.
Every road seemed to lead back to her.
Ruiz contacted Peter through investigators in the area.
To our surprise, he agreed to speak with them.
But he refused to come to the county office.
He insisted that police meet him at his property.
"Why?" I asked.
Ruiz shook her head.
"He says he has a reason."
I wanted to go.
Of course I wanted to go.
But Ruiz refused.
"You are now the direct target of an extortion demand. We cannot risk putting you in an uncontrolled situation."
I argued for five minutes.
Then I gave up.
Not because I was satisfied.
Because I couldn't afford to make a mistake.
While the detectives traveled to Peter's farm, Linda and I remained in the conference room.
I opened a photograph of Emily on my phone.
It had been taken at Christmas two years earlier.
She stood beside the tree holding a ridiculous knitted stocking.
Daniel was behind her, smiling.
His arm rested around her waist.
I remembered the evening.
Emily had burned the rolls.
Daniel had criticized her in front of everyone.
She'd laughed it off.
I had laughed, too.
Now I wondered how many moments I'd misunderstood.
How many small humiliations had become normal in my daughter's marriage?
How many times had she smiled because arguing would make things worse?
"Margaret."
Linda's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Stop blaming yourself."
I looked up.
"I should have known."
"You knew something was wrong, and you acted."
"Not soon enough."
"You don't know that."
I looked back at the photograph.
"When Thomas died, I promised him I'd take care of Emily."
Linda's expression softened.
"You did take care of her. You raised a woman brave enough to uncover a serious crime."
"She's paying for that bravery."
"Then we make sure she gets the chance to live the rest of her life."
I wiped my eyes.
At three in the afternoon, Ruiz called.
Peter Whitmore had given the investigators a statement.
And he had something to show them.
He claimed he'd spent years trying to distance himself from Patricia after discovering that she'd used his signature on several fraudulent documents.
When he confronted her, she'd threatened to accuse him of stealing company funds.
Eventually, he left the family business.
Patricia told relatives he'd died.
Daniel repeated the story.
It was easier than explaining why the family had cut him off.
"Why didn't Peter correct them?" I asked.
"He says he did, at first. But after years of threats and legal disputes, he stopped trying to maintain contact."
"And how did Emily find him?"
"Through Caroline."
The pieces began fitting together.
Caroline had escaped Daniel's first marriage.
Emily had found Caroline.
Caroline had introduced Emily to Peter.
Three people with evidence against Patricia.
Three people she wanted silenced.
Ruiz continued.
"Peter owns a small farm near Lancaster. His land borders the former water-treatment facility."
"Can he see it?"
"Parts of it."
"Has he seen Daniel there?"
"Yes."
My heart jumped.
"When?"
"Twice in the past week."
"With Emily?"
"He couldn't identify the passenger in Daniel's vehicle."
I gripped the phone.
"Then search it."
"We're preparing to act on the information."
Ruiz paused.
"Peter also showed us a drainage map of the property. Apparently, the old facility includes several service tunnels that were sealed when it closed."
"Service tunnels?"
"Underground access passages."
I stared at Linda.
Another hidden level.
Another place where someone could be kept out of sight.
"Could Emily be down there?"
"It's possible."
"What if the tunnels flood?"
"Margaret—"
"What if she's hurt and can't move?"
"We're taking those risks into account."
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
Ruiz's voice softened.
"Please trust us enough to give us time to do this carefully."
I forced myself to answer.
"All right."
After we hung up, Linda went to find coffee.
I remained alone in the room.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Daniel.
Tomorrow. 10 a.m. Bring your ID and property documents. No police.
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
I know you're with Ruiz.
My blood went cold.
A third message followed.
Tell Linda I like the blue sweater.
I looked toward the door.
Linda had been wearing a blue sweater all day.
Daniel was watching us.
Or someone was giving him information.
I stood and hurried into the hallway.
Linda was returning with two paper cups.
"What's wrong?"
I showed her.
She went pale.
We immediately found a uniformed officer.
He escorted us to Ruiz's supervisor, Captain William Foster.
Foster read the messages and ordered a review of access to the investigation's information.
He also had an officer accompany us while he arranged a more secure place for me to wait.
"Does Daniel have someone inside the department?" I asked.
"We're examining every possibility."
"Officer Blake?"
"He's been temporarily reassigned while we review his involvement."
I looked at Linda.
The warning hadn't been imaginary.
Someone had known about Blake.
But another question troubled me.
How had Daniel learned what Linda was wearing?
The conference room was away from the public entrance.
We had barely left it.
Then I remembered the window.
A tall pane of glass overlooked a parking structure across the street.
Someone could have watched us from there.
Foster ordered the blinds closed.
A few minutes later, Ruiz called.
Her team had reached Peter's property and confirmed the service tunnel map.
They had also obtained an aerial photograph showing a recently repaired access road.
At the end of the road stood a small concrete building.
It wasn't included in the original property records.
Peter believed Patricia had constructed it years earlier to store equipment.
But he had noticed lights inside at night.
Ruiz explained that a tactical team was being deployed.
"We're not waiting for tomorrow's meeting."
I almost cried with relief.
Then her voice changed.
"Mrs. Bennett, I need you to listen carefully."
"I'm listening."
"We have reason to believe Daniel may be aware that we're approaching the location."
I closed my eyes.
"Please hurry."
"We are."
She disconnected.
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
Then another.
I walked to the window.
Remembered Daniel's message.
And stepped back.
At 6:42 p.m., Captain Foster entered the room.
His face was grim.
"They found the concrete building."
I grabbed Linda's hand.
"Was Emily there?"
He hesitated.
"The building was empty."
My knees weakened.
"No."
"But there were signs someone had been held there recently."
"How recently?"
"Within the past day, according to the initial scene assessment."
I struggled to breathe.
"Where is she?"
"We're still searching."
Foster placed a photograph on the table.
It showed a concrete wall with a small window high above the floor.
Beneath the window, someone had scratched words into the plaster.
I recognized Emily's handwriting immediately.
HE THINKS I'LL BREAK.
Below it:
MOM WON'T.
I covered my face.
My brave girl.
My beautiful, stubborn girl.
She was still fighting.
Foster cleared his throat.
"There's another thing."
I looked up.
"Investigators found an old surveillance recording system in the building. Most of the storage drives had been removed."
"Most?"
"One remained."
He placed another photograph on the table.
This one showed a computer monitor displaying a grainy security-camera image.
The timestamp was from the previous night.
Emily sat in a chair.
Patricia stood in front of her.
Daniel leaned against the wall.
And a fourth person stood near the door.
A man wearing a police uniform.
I leaned closer.
Even through the grainy picture, I recognized his face.
Officer Connor Blake.
The same officer who'd promised me a welfare check.
The same officer who'd told me there was nothing he could do.
I stared at Foster.
"He knew."
Foster's expression was hard.
"It appears so."
Then Ruiz called again.
This time, she didn't sound angry.
She sounded frightened.
"Margaret, stay exactly where you are."
"What happened?"
"Officer Blake has disappeared."
I felt my stomach drop.
"And we just discovered something about Daniel's planned meeting tomorrow."
"What?"
"He's not planning to exchange Emily for your property."
A terrible silence followed.
May you like
Ruiz continued.
"According to an intercepted communication, they're planning to kill you both."
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