Chapter 7 - THE DEAD MAN WHO WALKED INTO DAVID’S HOUSE
Nathan Brooks had been declared dead after a sailing accident.
No body recovered.
Sterling had attended a memorial.
Their parents had buried an empty coffin.
Now surveillance footage showed Nathan entering David’s home hours before David died.
Sarah watched the video repeatedly.
Nathan carried a black equipment case.
Entered.
Stayed thirty-seven minutes.
Left.
No visible urgency.
No struggle.
“What was Nathan involved in?” Sarah asked.
Sterling sat silently.
Hale answered for him.
“Military research.”
Sarah turned.
“What kind?”
Sterling finally spoke.
“Behavioral neuroscience.”
“That’s broad.”
“He worked on stress-response studies for defense contractors.”
“Whitmore?”
“Sometimes.”
Sarah stared.
“You never mentioned this.”
“I believed he was dead.”
Hale placed another file down.
“Nathan was listed as a consultant for Saint Catherine’s successor organization.”
Sarah frowned.
“Successor?”
“Northbridge Biomedical.”
The name meant nothing to her.
But Sterling recognized it.
“Oh God.”
“What?”
“My father invested in Northbridge.”
“When?”
“Thirty years ago.”
Hale looked between them.
“The Brooks family and Whitmores were connected before David hired you.”
Sterling shook his head.
“I didn’t know.”
Sarah believed he might be telling the truth.
That did not make him safe.
They searched Sterling’s family records.
His father, Charles Brooks, had served on the Saint Catherine’s advisory board.
Another hidden connection.
Sarah asked, “Is your father alive?”
Sterling hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Retirement community in Connecticut.”
Hale immediately sent agents.
Charles Brooks was gone.
His room had been emptied sometime during the previous night.
No forced entry.
One message left inside.
A photograph.
Sarah.
Pregnant.
Walking into David’s funeral.
Written beneath:
R-17 CONTINUES.
Sarah’s fear finally became physical.
She felt her daughter move and had to sit.
Hale crouched beside her.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“You’re pale.”
“I’m angry.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I’m fine.”
She was not.
For months, her pregnancy had been private joy.
Now strangers were labeling her child like laboratory property.
R-17.
She hated the code.
That evening, Chloe called.
“I found something.”
Sarah almost ignored it.
Then answered.
“What?”
“Mother had a storage room beneath the lake house.”
“You knew?”
“No. I found the key in her bedroom.”
Hale was already signaling agents.
“Where are you now?” Sarah asked.
“At the lake house.”
Sarah stood.
“Chloe, get out.”
“There are files.”
“Do not touch anything.”
“One has your name.”
Sarah froze.
“My name?”
“And your Army service number.”
Sarah’s blood went cold.
Eleanor had a file on her from before Sarah married David.
“When was it created?”
Chloe opened it.
Her breathing changed.
“Sarah.”
“When?”
“Eleven years ago.”
Sarah had met David nine years ago.
Someone had been tracking her two years before they even met.
“Chloe, leave now.”
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Photographs.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
Sarah felt sick.
“Where?”
“Fort Bradley.”
Her first duty station.
Sarah remembered meeting David there.
He had been visiting a defense manufacturing facility.
They bumped into each other at a coffee shop outside the gate.
Accidental.
Or so she had believed.
Chloe whispered, “There’s a photograph of David too.”
Sarah closed her eyes.
“Same date?”
“No.”
Sarah opened them.
“What date?”
“Three weeks before you met.”
Hale heard everything.
Sarah barely noticed.
Chloe continued.
“David is standing with Eleanor.”
Sarah’s throat tightened.
“And?”
“Mother wrote something on the back.”
“What?”
A long pause.
Then Chloe read:
INTRODUCTION APPROVED.
Sarah felt something inside her break.
David had not simply met her.
Someone had arranged it.
“Chloe.”
“Yes?”
“Leave the house.”
“I need to find out—”
A crash sounded through the phone.
Chloe gasped.
Then silence.
“Chloe?”
No answer.
Sarah shouted.
“Chloe!”
A man’s voice came through.
Calm.
Older.
“Mrs. Whitmore.”
Sarah froze.
“Who is this?”
“You’ve been asking the wrong question.”
“Where is Chloe?”
“She’s alive.”
“Touch her and I swear—”
“You should ask why David chose you.”
Sarah’s hand tightened around the phone.
“Who are you?”
The man laughed softly.
“Someone who watched your husband select the mother of his child.”
The call ended.
Hale immediately traced it.
Disposable phone.
Tower near the lake house.
Teams arrived eight minutes later.
Chloe was gone.
But the hidden room remained.
Sarah’s file was inside.
Military evaluations.
Medical records.
Childhood photographs.
College transcripts.
Even genetic screening she had completed during Army service.
One page carried a handwritten note.
CANDIDATE S-4.
Below it:
COMPATIBILITY WITH R-17: 96.8%.
Sarah stared until the words blurred.
Then she found David’s handwriting.
Only one sentence.
I REFUSE TO DO THIS TO HER.
Sarah pressed her fingertips against the page.
He had known.
At some point.
But what exactly had he known?
A second note had been attached.
Different handwriting.
May you like
DAVID DOESN’T NEED TO AGREE.
HE ONLY NEEDS TO FALL IN LOVE.
