Chapter 6 - a lullaby no stranger should know)
Claire's father lived in a limestone townhouse twelve blocks from where Abigail had been found.
Richard Whitmore opened the door himself.
At seventy-one, he still carried himself like the chairman he had been for most of Claire's childhood.
But the moment he saw Claire, his authority disappeared.
"Is she really Abby?"
Claire stepped inside.
"Yes."
Richard covered his face.
He cried in the foyer.
Claire had seen her father cry only twice before.
At her mother's funeral.
And the day Abigail disappeared.
He reached for Claire.
She allowed him to hug her for several seconds.
Then she pulled away.
"I need you to tell me about the trust."
Richard's face changed.
"What trust?"
"Abigail's."
"Claire."
"What happens when she turns five?"
Richard became very still.
That was enough.
"You know."
"Come into the study."
"No. Tell me here."
"Please."
Claire followed him.
Richard closed the door.
Inside, he opened a locked cabinet.
He removed a thick folder.
"The Whitmore Family Continuity Trust."
Claire stared at it.
"I've never seen this."
"Your mother created it."
"When?"
"Shortly before she died."
Claire's mother, Eleanor Whitmore, had died of cancer seven years earlier.
"Why didn't I know?"
"You did. Parts of it were included in the estate documents."
"I don't remember this."
"Because the provisions concerning grandchildren were sealed until certain conditions were met."
Claire sat.
"What conditions?"
"The eldest biological grandchild reaching five."
Claire's pulse accelerated.
"Abigail."
Richard nodded.
"What happens on her fifth birthday?"
"Control changes."
"Control of what?"
"The voting shares your mother held."
Claire stared.
Richard continued.
"Until the eldest grandchild turns five, I control those shares. Afterward, an independent trustee assumes oversight. Every transaction involving those shares from the previous five years becomes subject to mandatory audit."
Claire understood immediately.
"Graham manages the trusts."
"He advises them."
"Does he have access to those transactions?"
"Yes."
"Could an audit expose him?"
Richard looked troubled.
"Expose what?"
"I don't know yet."
"Claire, Graham is family."
"So was Natalie. So was Naomi. So was everyone who had access to Abby."
Richard stood.
"You think Graham took her?"
"Police have evidence connecting him."
Richard shook his head.
"No."
"I watched a video from the nursery."
"What video?"
"Naomi carried Abby out. A man told her Natalie was waiting."
Richard looked pale.
"Was it Graham?"
"We couldn't see his face."
"Then you don't know."
"Dale Mercer identified him."
Richard sank into his chair.
For the first time, Claire saw fear.
Not surprise.
Fear.
"You knew something."
"No."
"Dad."
"I suspected financial irregularities."
"When?"
Richard looked at the folder.
"About three months before Abigail disappeared."
Claire felt anger rising.
"You suspected Graham?"
"I suspected someone."
"And you did nothing?"
"I ordered an internal review."
"What happened?"
"The accountant handling it died."
Claire stared.
"How?"
"Car accident."
"When?"
"Two weeks before Abigail disappeared."
The room seemed smaller.
"What was his name?"
"Henry Voss."
Claire had heard the name once.
At a family dinner.
Graham had described Henry's death as tragic.
"Did police know?"
"There was no reason to connect the events."
"There was every reason."
"We didn't know Abby's disappearance had anything to do with money."
Claire stood.
"You kept this from me."
"I was trying to protect you."
"Everyone keeps saying that right before telling me what they hid."
Her phone rang.
Detective Ortiz.
Claire answered.
"We found Naomi."
Claire stopped.
"Alive?"
A pause.
"Yes."
Claire closed her eyes.
"Where?"
"Vermont."
Naomi Bell had been living under another name in a small town near the Canadian border.
She had worked in a bakery for three years.
When federal agents arrived, she did not run.
She simply sat down and said she had been waiting.
Claire drove north with Ortiz the following morning.
Naomi looked twenty years older.
Her hair was gray.
Her hands shook.
When Claire entered the interview room, Naomi began crying.
"Mrs. Whitmore."
Claire remained standing.
"Where was my daughter?"
Naomi lowered her head.
"I'm sorry."
"Where was she?"
"I kept her safe."
"You stole her."
"No."
"You carried her out of my house."
"I was told someone was going to kill her."
Claire froze.
"Who told you?"
"Graham."
Ortiz leaned forward.
Naomi continued.
"He said Mr. Whitmore's enemies were planning to take the baby. He showed me messages. Photographs. He said police had someone inside. He told me I had to move Abigail immediately and Natalie would meet me."
"Did Natalie?"
"No."
"Who did?"
"Graham."
Claire felt sick.
Naomi wiped her eyes.
"When I reached the car, he told me the threat was worse than he thought. He said I couldn't bring Abby back until he knew who was involved."
"And you believed him?"
"For one night."
"One night became four years."
Naomi began sobbing.
"The next morning I tried calling you. Graham came to the motel. He told me you and Mr. Ethan had been arrested. He showed me fake news pages. He said Abigail would enter state custody unless I kept her hidden."
Claire could barely listen.
"Why didn't you go to police?"
"I did."
Ortiz looked up.
"When?"
"Three days later. I went to a station in Pennsylvania."
"What happened?"
"A man met me outside. He knew my name. He knew where Abby was. He told me if I spoke, she would disappear somewhere I could never find her."
"Was it Graham?"
"No."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
Naomi looked at Claire.
"I stayed with Abby almost two years. I taught her your lullaby. I showed her pictures. I told her her real name when I could."
Claire's anger broke around grief.
"Then why did Dale get her?"
Naomi's eyes filled.
"Graham found us."
"What happened?"
"He said if I didn't hand her over, he would kill you."
Claire went silent.
"He showed me photographs of you leaving your office. Your home. Your grocery store. He had been watching you."
Naomi reached across the table.
Claire did not take her hand.
"I thought if I gave him Abby, he would leave you alive."
"You should have trusted me."
"I know."
"You should have come home."
"I know."
For a long time no one spoke.
Then Ortiz asked, "What happens when Abigail turns five?"
Naomi's expression changed.
"I don't know."
"Did Graham ever mention the date?"
"Once."
"What did he say?"
Naomi closed her eyes.
"He said by her fifth birthday, Claire would sign everything."
"Sign what?"
"I don't know."
Claire thought of the trust.
The audit.
Her mother's shares.
Then Naomi said something else.
"There was another thing."
Claire waited.
"Before I ran, I heard Graham arguing with someone on the phone."
"About Abby?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
Naomi looked at Claire.
"He said, 'Natalie is starting to remember too much.'"
Claire felt the room tilt.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
Naomi's voice dropped.
"But I don't think your sister knew what he had done."
Claire's phone vibrated.
A message from Natalie.
Claire had ignored dozens.
This one contained a photograph.
The blue door.
May you like
Below it, Natalie had written one sentence.
Claire, I know where she lived. Please come alone.
