Chapter 11 - The Church Without a Cross
The abandoned church stood between two warehouses near Montreal’s industrial district.
Its cross had been removed, leaving a pale outline against the stone tower. Broken stained-glass windows faced the street.
Brooke’s phone displayed a new message.
Side entrance. No police.
Larry parked half a block away.
Nora had secretly shared their location with Detective Price before they crossed the border. Canadian authorities were on their way, but Brooke did not know how long they would take.
Inside, the church smelled of damp wood.
Rows of pews had been removed.
A single lamp burned near the altar.
Bethany stood beneath it.
She wore jeans, a dark coat, and no makeup. Without the carefully styled hair and expensive dresses, she looked younger and more dangerous.
Daniel stood beside her holding a pistol.
He was the man from Evan’s bedroom.
Brooke looked past them.
“Where is my mother?”
Bethany smiled faintly.
“You came.”
“Where is she?”
“Not here.”
Larry stepped forward.
“You used us.”
Bethany’s gaze moved to him.
“For a while, I loved you.”
“Do not say that.”
“It’s true.”
“You helped destroy Amelia’s life.”
“I tried to stop my father.”
Daniel struck Bethany across the face.
The sound echoed through the church.
“Do not rewrite history.”
Larry moved instinctively, but Daniel raised the weapon.
Bethany wiped blood from her lip.
“My father raised me to believe the Caldwells stole everything from us. He taught me your family was the reason my mother died poor.”
Daniel’s eyes blazed.
“Henry Caldwell used her.”
“He never touched her,” Brooke said.
Daniel pointed the gun toward Brooke.
“You know nothing.”
“I read his note.”
“Lies written by a rich man.”
Bethany looked at Brooke.
“I met Amelia because my father sent me to steal the ledger. But she was kind to me. She offered me work. She trusted me.”
“Then you cut her brake line.”
“I loosened it. Martin said the car would stop safely.”
Larry’s voice shook.
“You endangered her.”
“Yes.”
“Then you watched me bury another woman.”
Bethany looked away.
“My father said Amelia died later at the clinic.”
“But you discovered she was alive.”
“Years afterward.”
“And you still stayed.”
Bethany’s eyes filled with tears.
“By then, I had Evan to protect.”
“Evan was an adult.”
“He owed Martin money. Gambling, investments, failed companies. Martin threatened to expose him and send him to prison.”
Brooke felt no sympathy.
“So you stole from me.”
“I moved money to keep Martin satisfied.”
“For eight years?”
“Every time I tried to stop, he threatened to tell Larry everything.”
Larry laughed bitterly.
“You preferred living a lie.”
Bethany turned on him.
“You preferred one too. You wanted a wife who never mentioned Amelia, never challenged you, never asked why you signed papers without reading them.”
Larry flinched.
Bethany’s words were cruel, but not entirely false.
Daniel interrupted.
“Enough.”
He demanded the red ledger.
Brooke had brought a copy.
Rebecca retained the original.
Brooke removed it from her bag.
“Show me my mother first.”
Daniel smiled.
“You inherited Amelia’s stubbornness.”
“Show me.”
He gestured toward a small speaker near the altar.
Bethany pressed a button.
Amelia’s voice filled the church.
“Brooke?”
Brooke’s knees weakened.
The voice was older and uncertain.
“Brooke, if you can hear me, do not come. Daniel wants the book. Do not give it to him.”
A struggle sounded on the recording.
Then silence.
“When was that recorded?” Brooke asked.
“Two hours ago,” Bethany said.
“Where is she?”
Daniel aimed the gun at Larry.
“The ledger.”
Brooke held it out.
Daniel approached.
Before he reached her, the church door slammed open.
Martin Dorne entered with a gun of his own.
Daniel spun.
Martin fired.
The bullet struck Daniel’s shoulder.
He collapsed beside the altar.
Bethany screamed.
Larry pulled Brooke behind a stone column.
Martin crossed the church calmly.
“Thank you for gathering everyone.”
He kicked Daniel’s pistol away.
Bethany stared at him.
“You followed us.”
“I have followed you for years.”
Martin looked at the ledger in Brooke’s hand.
“Give me the original.”
“It’s a copy.”
His smile vanished.
“Where is the real one?”
“Somewhere you’ll never reach.”
Martin aimed at her.
“Your mother said the same thing.”
Larry stepped from behind the column.
“Where is Amelia?”
Martin fired.
The shot struck the column inches from Larry’s head.
“You spent a decade asking the wrong questions,” Martin said. “You should have asked why Amelia trusted Rebecca Sloan.”
Brooke’s heart stopped.
“What does Rebecca have to do with this?”
Martin smiled again.
“She designed the trust. She controlled the evidence. She knew Amelia survived.”
“No.”
“She knew before you did.”
Police sirens sounded outside.
Martin’s expression changed.
Nora appeared in the side doorway and threw a metal candle stand toward him.
It struck his arm.
His gun fell.
Larry tackled him.
Bethany rushed to Daniel.
Brooke kicked the weapon across the floor as officers flooded the church.
Martin was handcuffed.
Daniel was taken away by ambulance under guard.
Bethany remained kneeling beside the blood on the floor.
An officer approached her.
She raised both hands.
Before they led her away, she looked at Brooke.
“Rebecca knows where your mother is.”
Brooke tried to dismiss it as another lie.
Then her phone rang.
Rebecca’s name appeared on the screen.
Brooke answered.
Rebecca spoke quickly.
“Do not trust Martin. Do not trust Bethany. Return home immediately.”
“Do you know where my mother is?”
Silence.
It lasted only two seconds.
But it was enough.
May you like
“Rebecca,” Brooke said, “where is she?”
The call disconnected.
