Chapter 11 - The Boy Who Vanished
The investigator found no current school record for Ethan Hollis.
No recent medical record.
No passport renewal.
No public address associated with Laura Hollis.
It was as if mother and son had disappeared.
David Hollis’s death, however, was real.
His vehicle had gone through a guardrail on a rural road.
Single-car collision.
No witnesses.
Toxicology negative.
Clara read the report twice.
Then a third time.
“Brake failure.”
Daniel nodded.
“Official cause.”
“What are you thinking?”
“That I’m becoming paranoid.”
“You’re not paranoid if your father admits hiring people to track an attorney who vanished.”
Clara looked at him.
“Comforting.”
Naomi entered carrying coffee.
“The prosecutor’s office called.”
Clara stood.
“About Arthur?”
“About the bank records. They want an interview.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Good.”
“Don’t celebrate yet.”
“I’m not.”
Naomi handed her a folder.
“The bank produced preliminary logs.”
They showed access to Clara’s trust over six years from four primary devices.
Arthur’s office computer.
Victoria’s tablet.
Chloe’s laptop.
And one unregistered device.
The unidentified device had authorized several of the largest transfers.
Its access location was strange.
A marina.
The same marina listed in Eleanor’s estate schedule.
Clara remembered the property.
“Storage unit.”
Daniel nodded.
They drove there with Naomi and two private security contractors.
Unit 214 was legally owned by the trust.
The manager accepted Naomi’s documents.
Inside, they expected boxes.
Instead, they found an office.
Old desk.
Satellite phone.
Printer.
Locked metal cabinets.
A disconnected server rack.
Clara whispered, “What was Grandma doing here?”
Daniel opened a drawer.
“Keeping records away from Arthur.”
They found dozens of folders.
Most had codes.
Some had names.
HELIX.
HOLLIS.
GRANT.
VANCE.
MATTHEW.
Clara reached for the last one.
Naomi stopped her.
“Photograph the room first.”
They documented everything.
Then Clara opened MATTHEW.
The first pages were medical charts.
Blood type.
Weight.
Footprint.
A neonatal photograph.
Clara recognized her son instantly.
Or thought she did.
His newborn face was tiny and wrinkled.
Beside it was another photograph.
Another infant.
Label:
HOLLIS, ETHAN.
The two infants looked nothing alike.
Clara’s heart slowed slightly.
Then Daniel found genetic testing.
“Clara.”
She turned.
A report dated when the boys were three months old.
Mother-child relationship probability.
Clara Vance and Matthew Vance.
99.99 percent.
Clara sat down.
A sound escaped her that was half laugh, half sob.
“My son.”
Naomi squeezed her shoulder.
“Yes.”
Clara covered her face.
Matthew was hers.
Biologically.
Completely.
Arthur had used the uncertainty as a weapon.
She hated him for it more than she thought possible.
Then Daniel said, “There’s another test.”
Clara lowered her hands.
The second report compared Ethan Hollis with Laura Hollis.
0 percent maternal relationship.
Naomi whispered, “Oh no.”
Clara stared.
“If Ethan wasn’t Laura’s...”
Daniel finished the sentence.
“Then whose child was he?”
They searched deeper.
At the back of the folder was a handwritten note from Eleanor.
Matthew is Clara’s.
Ethan is not Laura’s.
No ordinary hospital error.
Third mother suspected.
Arthur cannot learn before I confirm.
Clara read it twice.
A third mother.
Not Clara.
Not Laura.
Someone else.
Naomi opened another folder.
HOLLIS.
Inside was a photograph of Laura Hollis meeting Evelyn Reed in a parking garage.
Then another.
Laura holding Ethan as an infant.
On the back, Eleanor had written:
Laura knows.
She is terrified of G.
Daniel whispered, “Grant.”
Clara opened the GRANT folder.
No first page.
No biography.
Only surveillance photographs.
Grant outside Arthur’s firm.
Grant outside the hospital.
Grant with David Hollis.
Grant meeting a woman whose face was hidden by a scarf.
Then one image without the scarf.
Clara stared at the woman.
She knew her.
Not personally.
But everyone in the city did.
Helena Cross.
May you like
Founder and CEO of Meridian Systems.
The woman supposedly killed in a private plane crash seven years earlier.
