Chapter 15 - THE PAGE INSIDE BUDDY
Ryan survived surgery.
The bullet missed his heart and major arteries.
The shooter did not survive long enough to provide useful answers.
He swallowed poison before police could question him.
His identity was more disturbing than his death.
Caleb Warren.
Forty-seven.
Senior security consultant for Archer Development.
Employed by Eleanor Hale for eleven years.
Eleanor disappeared the same night.
Her house was empty.
Her private jet remained grounded.
Her passport had not been used.
But $9.2 million vanished from an offshore account linked to CROWN.
The network was moving.
Heather no longer doubted that.
She and Eric were placed in a federal safe property with Olivia.
Daniel and Avery were moved elsewhere.
Melissa entered negotiations with prosecutors.
Ryan remained under guard.
And Margaret's ledger remained missing.
Except for one page.
Olivia has it.
Ryan's words repeated inside Heather's mind.
They searched Olivia's backpack.
Nothing.
Her clothes.
Nothing.
Her books.
Nothing.
Then Heather remembered the guest room.
Olivia's stuffed rabbit had been facing the wall.
But Ryan had not said rabbit.
He had said Buddy.
Buddy was the dog.
The golden retriever remained in secure boarding.
Federal agents brought him to the safe house.
Olivia ran toward him crying.
Buddy nearly knocked her over.
Heather watched the old dog roll happily onto his back.
Then she noticed his collar.
It was not his normal collar.
"This isn't ours."
Eric crouched.
"What?"
Heather touched the brown leather.
"Buddy wears blue."
Olivia nodded.
"Aunt Melissa changed it."
"When?"
"The day she babysat."
Heather's chest tightened.
Eric removed the collar.
Inside the leather lining was a narrow stitched pocket.
He cut it open.
A folded page slid into his hand.
Ryan had hidden it there.
The paper was old.
Names filled both sides.
Victor Hale.
Eleanor Hale.
Thomas Collins.
Melissa Carter.
Ryan Collins.
Samuel Price.
Heather stopped.
"Price?"
Eric looked at her.
The former detective's name appeared beside a date.
STATUS: ESCAPED.
Below it was another name.
Karen Doyle.
Heather stared.
Lieutenant Doyle.
STATUS: ACTIVE.
Eric's face changed.
"Active?"
Heather grabbed her phone.
No signal.
She looked toward the federal agent standing by the window.
"Where's Lieutenant Doyle?"
The agent frowned.
"She left an hour ago."
"Why?"
"Meeting."
"With who?"
"I don't know."
Eric continued reading.
The page listed dozens of people.
Judges.
Police officers.
Executives.
Social workers.
School administrators.
Then he reached the bottom.
AUTHORIZED SUCCESSOR:
ERIC COLLINS
STATUS:
UNCONFIRMED
Beneath it, handwritten in Margaret's ink:
THE RECORDING IS FALSE.
Eric closed his eyes.
Heather exhaled.
Ryan had heard a fabricated recording.
Eric had never agreed.
For the first time in days, something felt clear.
Then Heather saw another line.
CONTINGENT SUCCESSOR:
OLIVIA COLLINS
Her blood turned cold.
"No."
Eric stared at their daughter's name.
"No."
Olivia stood several feet away hugging Buddy.
Heather turned the paper over.
On the back, Margaret had written a message.
Heather,
If you found this page, then they have already tried to break your family.
Do not let them convince Eric that succession is inevitable.
It is not blood.
It is selection.
It can be refused.
Heather gripped the paper.
There was more.
But understand this.
CROWN was never Victor Hale's organization.
Victor was a recruiter.
The Architect does not choose successors because they are cruel.
He chooses them because they are good.
Because good people can be forced to justify terrible things when someone they love is threatened.
Heather looked at Eric.
Then the final paragraph.
I discovered the Architect's identity shortly before I died.
I hid his name where CROWN would never search.
With the child who had not yet been born.
Heather stopped breathing.
Olivia had been three when Margaret died.
Not unborn.
She read the sentence again.
With the child who had not yet been born.
Eric saw her expression.
"What?"
Heather handed him the paper.
He read it.
His face went pale.
"What child?"
Heather shook her head.
"I don't know."
Then Olivia spoke from across the room.
"Mommy?"
Heather turned.
Olivia was holding Buddy's collar.
Something else had fallen from the lining.
A tiny photograph.
Olivia picked it up.
Heather crossed the room and took it.
The image showed Margaret Collins standing outside a hospital room.
Beside her was a woman Heather did not recognize.
The woman held a newborn baby.
On the back was a date.
Eight years ago.
One year before Olivia was born.
Eric stared at the photograph.
"Who is she?"
Heather turned it over again.
There was a name.
DR. ELIZABETH VALE.
Eric immediately took out his phone.
"No signal."
The federal agent by the door reached for his radio.
Then every light in the safe house went out.
Buddy began barking.
Olivia screamed.
Eric pulled her behind him.
Emergency power failed to activate.
Complete darkness.
Heather heard the agent speak into his radio.
"No response."
Then headlights appeared outside.
One car.
Slowly approaching the isolated property.
The federal agent drew his weapon.
"Stay away from the windows."
The car stopped.
A door opened.
Footsteps crossed the gravel.
Not rushing.
Not hiding.
Calm footsteps.
Someone knocked three times.
Eric looked at Heather.
No one moved.
Three more knocks.
Then a man's voice came through the door.
"Eric Collins."
Heather tightened her arms around Olivia.
The voice continued.
"You have something that belongs to me."
Eric whispered, "Who are you?"
Silence.
Then the stranger laughed softly.
"You've spent a week asking the wrong question."
Heather stared at the photograph of Dr. Elizabeth Vale.
Outside, the man spoke again.
"You shouldn't be asking who I am."
Another pause.
"You should be asking why Margaret Collins died protecting a child you've never met."
Olivia began to cry.
Heather pulled her closer.
The front-door lock clicked.
From the outside.
Eric stared at it.
The deadbolt slowly turned.
Once.
Then stopped.
A second metallic sound came from lower on the door.
Another lock.
One Heather had never noticed.
The stranger whispered through the wood.
"Two doors, Heather."
Her blood froze.
"The first keeps strangers out."
The second lock began to turn.
"And the second..."
Click.
"...keeps the family in."
May you like
The door started to open.
CUT TO BLACK.
