Chapter 10 - SUCCESSION
Eric stared at the word until it lost meaning.
Succession.
It sounded corporate.
Royal.
Innocent enough when removed from context.
Nothing about CROWN was innocent.
"What does order one mean?" Heather asked.
Doyle shook her head.
"We don't know."
"Melissa does."
"She's stopped cooperating."
"Then make her."
"That's not how this works."
Heather looked toward Olivia, who was coloring beside Avery.
"Someone ranked my daughter."
Doyle lowered her voice.
"We're investigating."
Eric pointed at his own name.
"Why am I first?"
The lieutenant hesitated.
"We found similar lists."
"Other families?"
"Yes."
"What happens to number one?"
"We don't know."
"Stop saying that."
Doyle's expression hardened.
"I'd rather tell you I don't know than invent an answer."
Eric stepped away.
Heather appreciated the honesty.
She hated the uncertainty.
The recovered records showed each monitored household had a succession list.
Adults and children were assigned numbers.
Some people received zeros.
Heather was a zero.
Daniel was also a zero in his family's file.
Melissa had been a one.
Ryan had once been a two.
Avery was three.
Olivia was two.
Eric was one.
Doyle theorized that the numbers indicated priority or usefulness.
Then a decrypted CROWN document proved her wrong.
It was titled TRANSFER PROTOCOL.
Only fragments survived.
ORDER ONE: AUTHORIZED SUCCESSOR
ORDER TWO: CONTINGENT SUCCESSOR
ORDER THREE: OBSERVATIONAL DEVELOPMENT
ORDER ZERO: NON-CANDIDATE
Heather stared at Eric.
"Successor to what?"
No one knew.
Then another fragment surfaced.
AUTHORIZED SUCCESSOR MUST REMAIN UNAWARE UNTIL FAMILY BREAK EVENT.
Eric read the line repeatedly.
"Family break event."
Doyle said, "Could refer to death, divorce, arrest."
Heather looked at the guest-room photographs.
"Or a child being harmed."
Doyle's expression tightened.
"Possibly."
Melissa locking Olivia away suddenly looked less like an isolated act of cruelty.
It looked like a trigger.
Heather felt nauseated.
"She wanted us to find Olivia."
Eric looked at her.
"What?"
"Think about it."
Heather stood.
"Melissa could've taken her somewhere else. Instead she installed a visible bolt in our own house."
Doyle nodded slowly.
"She also answered your call."
"She provoked me."
Eric's face changed.
"CPS. Police."
Heather pointed at him.
"You immediately escalated."
"Any parent would."
"Exactly."
Silence.
Heather whispered, "The whole thing may have been designed to create a family break event."
Doyle called analysts.
They checked the hidden phone.
One message had been deleted but recovered.
It had been sent to Melissa three hours before Heather came home.
BEGIN FRACTURE.
A reply from Melissa:
COLLINS EVENT TODAY?
Unknown sender:
YES. USE CHILD TWO.
Heather sat down.
Child two.
Olivia.
Eric looked ready to break the table.
Doyle continued reading.
Melissa:
SHE'S SEVEN.
Unknown sender:
YOU WERE FOURTEEN.
Melissa:
NOT THE SAME.
Unknown sender:
PROVE YOUR LOYALTY.
The room went silent.
Heather looked through the wall as though she could see Melissa sitting in jail miles away.
Melissa had locked Olivia inside.
She had done it.
No message erased that.
But for the first time, Heather understood something else.
Someone had ordered her to use a seven-year-old.
And Melissa had hesitated.
Once.
It was not redemption.
But it was evidence.
The unknown number belonged to a disposable device.
Signal records placed it near Archer Development headquarters.
Eric stared at Doyle.
"My office."
"Near your office."
"Who had access?"
"Thousands of people."
But the timing mattered.
The message was sent during a board meeting attended by eleven executives.
One was Eric.
The ten others became suspects.
Three had long histories with Victor Hale.
One was his daughter.
Eleanor Hale.
Current chairwoman of Archer Development.
Eric had worked with her for fourteen years.
She had promoted him twice.
He trusted her.
When police asked Eleanor to come in voluntarily, she agreed immediately.
She arrived with two lawyers.
She denied knowing CROWN.
She denied knowing Melissa.
She denied knowledge of Northbridge.
Then Lieutenant Doyle placed an old photograph on the table.
Eleanor Hale at nineteen.
Standing outside the green house.
Beside Melissa Carter.
Eleanor looked at the photograph.
Then at Doyle.
Her attorney whispered something.
Eleanor did not answer.
Doyle asked, "Would you like to change your statement?"
May you like
Eleanor smiled.
"Not yet."
