Chapter 6 - THE ROOM BENEATH THE CHAPEL
The vehicle stopped before reaching the baggage room.
Police lights illuminated the station through broken windows. Officers shouted commands while Detective Ortiz pulled Evelyn behind a stone pillar.
The driver’s door opened.
No one stepped out.
Ortiz waited several seconds before approaching with two officers.
The vehicle was empty.
A metal bar had been placed against the accelerator, and the steering system had been remotely controlled.
Inside the rear compartment was a speaker.
A distorted voice came through it.
“Return what belongs to Meridian.”
The message repeated three times.
Then the vehicle caught fire beneath the dashboard.
The officers moved everyone outside while firefighters contained it before the flames could spread.
No one was injured.
By the time the station was secure, Benjamin had disappeared.
A service tunnel beneath the baggage room led toward the river. Officers found his jacket near the entrance, but no footprints remained after the tunnel reached the flooded section.
The black folder from locker 214 contained hundreds of financial records.
Every one of them was false.
The account numbers led to closed banks, dead corporations and people who had never existed.
Only the tracking device was real.
Meridian had known Evelyn’s location for eleven minutes.
Special Agent Cross insisted on moving her to federal protection.
Evelyn refused.
“My daughter built an archive beneath the chapel. That is where the answers are.”
“It is also the first place Meridian will expect you to return.”
“Then let them expect it.”
Ortiz supported Evelyn.
“The archive is secured, and the chapel is still an active crime scene. My officers control every entrance.”
Cross reluctantly agreed.
They returned shortly before dawn.
The mourners had gone home. Allison’s casket remained beneath the white flowers, but the room felt different without the crowd.
Smaller.
Colder.
Evelyn stopped beside the casket.
“Have you opened it?”
Ortiz nodded.
“And?”
“The body is Rachel Sloane.”
Even after expecting the answer, Evelyn felt her knees weaken.
Allison was not in the casket.
She might be alive.
She might also have died somewhere else after escaping the crash.
Hope and fear had become impossible to separate.
In the underground archive, Claire Rowan was examining the files Allison left behind.
She had discovered a second compartment beneath the desk.
Inside was a handwritten list of dates.
October seventeenth.
November third.
November tenth, the date of the crash.
November sixteen.
November twenty-two.
The final date was tomorrow.
“What do they mean?” Evelyn asked.
Claire pointed toward October seventeenth.
“The first attempt on Allison’s life.”
Then November third.
“The night she recorded the message in the blue room.”
November tenth was the false crash.
November sixteen matched the date of Allison’s photograph at the café.
November twenty-two was the funeral.
But tomorrow’s date had no explanation.
Claire placed Allison’s black phone beside the list.
“One recording is scheduled to unlock at midnight.”
“Which number?”
“Recording eight.”
“What happened to five, six and seven?”
“Five played when the casket was opened. It confirmed Rachel’s identity. Six unlocked when Benjamin reached locker 214. It activated the tracker.”
“And seven?”
Claire looked toward Vanessa.
“It requires Natalie Voss to tell the truth.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“I have told the truth.”
The archive speaker activated.
Allison’s voice said, “Not all of it.”
Vanessa stared upward.
A screen opened on the wall.
It showed footage from the lake house on October seventeenth.
Vanessa stood near the fireplace with Derek. The bracelet was lying on the table between them.
Derek spoke first.
“If Allison signs the transfer, we don’t need the accident.”
“She won’t sign,” Vanessa replied.
“Then make her.”
“How?”
“You know what she is afraid of.”
The footage paused.
Allison’s recorded voice continued.
“Natalie told me she was working with federal investigators. She was not.”
Agent Cross stiffened.
Vanessa looked at him.
“Explain,” Ortiz said.
Cross remained silent.
The video resumed.
A third person entered the lake house room.
Adrian Cross.
He handed Vanessa a folder.
“We need Allison to access the trust,” Cross said. “Derek can move the money after she authorizes the transfer.”
Vanessa looked toward the hidden camera.
“Why does Meridian want the trust?”
Cross answered, “Because the Hartwell accounts contain something more valuable than money.”
The footage ended.
Everyone in the archive moved away from Cross.
Ortiz reached for her handcuffs.
Cross raised both hands.
“This footage is incomplete.”
“You told us you had been investigating Meridian,” Ortiz said.
“I am.”
“You were giving instructions to Derek and Vanessa.”
“That was part of my cover.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“No. You recruited me.”
Cross looked at her.
“Be careful.”
“I am finished being careful.”
Vanessa turned toward Evelyn.
“My name is Natalie Voss, but I was never a federal informant. Cross gave me credentials, money and protection. He said Derek had stolen from powerful people and needed to be controlled.”
“Why did Allison trust you?” Evelyn asked.
“She caught me searching Derek’s office. I told her everything.”
“Everything?”
Vanessa glanced at Cross.
“Almost.”
The archive speaker responded.
“Tell her about Samuel Hart.”
Evelyn’s heart stopped.
Samuel had been her husband.
Allison’s father.
He had died in a boating accident twenty years earlier.
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
“Meridian was founded by four people. Derek’s father was one. Benjamin’s father was another.”
“And Samuel?” Evelyn asked.
“He was the third.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“That is impossible.”
Vanessa continued.
“Samuel tried to leave Meridian after discovering they were using medical charities to move illegal money. He copied their original account system before he died.”
Evelyn looked toward the shelves.
“The Hartwell Trust.”
Vanessa nodded.
“The trust does not only contain money. Its oldest accounts contain Samuel’s encrypted records.”
That was why Meridian wanted Allison’s authorization.
Not to steal her inheritance.
To erase the proof her father had hidden.
Ortiz placed Cross in handcuffs.
He did not resist.
“You are making a mistake,” he said.
Claire picked up the list of dates.
“Who was the fourth founder?”
Cross smiled.
“That is the question Allison should have asked before trusting her own family.”
The lights dimmed.
Recording seven unlocked.
Allison appeared on the screen holding an old family photograph.
Evelyn stood beside Samuel and a much younger Allison.
At the edge of the image was another person whose face had been cut away.
Allison held the missing piece beside the photograph.
May you like
The fourth founder was Evelyn’s older sister, Margaret.
The woman who had vanished from their lives seventeen years ago.
