Chapter 12 - The Dead Woman Who Was Still Alive
Helena Cross had been declared dead eleven months before Matthew was born.
Her aircraft disappeared over the Atlantic.
No body recovered.
The story had dominated business news.
Meridian Systems nearly collapsed.
Then a consortium acquired its assets.
Arthur had represented one of the acquiring parties.
Clara stared at the photograph.
The date stamped beneath it was five months after Helena’s supposed death.
“She survived.”
Daniel nodded.
“Or the picture is fake.”
Naomi examined the metadata.
“Original film scan. Harder to fake at the time.”
Clara turned the photograph over.
Eleanor had written:
H.C. alive.
Child?
No proof.
“What child?” Clara whispered.
Daniel looked at the picture of Ethan.
Naomi said nothing.
The implication was too obvious.
Clara shook her head.
“No. We’re not deciding that from two photographs.”
“Agreed,” Naomi said.
They continued searching.
A folder contained copies of messages between Evelyn Reed and Eleanor.
Helena claims pregnancy was concealed during acquisition.
Child delivered under alternate identity.
Grant arranging extraction.
Arthur involved without full knowledge?
Then another message:
Arthur knows enough now. He wants shares, not child.
Clara’s stomach tightened.
Her father had not created the original conspiracy.
He had discovered it.
And exploited it.
A later note changed the picture again.
Arthur has agreement with Grant.
Trust control traded for silence.
Clara sat back.
“The inheritance wasn’t just money.”
Daniel nodded.
“It was leverage.”
Eleanor had controlled Meridian voting shares.
Those shares could expose the legitimacy of the acquisition.
If Helena Cross had been alive when the acquisition occurred, some corporate disclosures might have been fraudulent.
Potentially billions were at stake.
Clara whispered, “Dad stole my trust to gain control of the shares.”
“And,” Naomi said, “possibly to maintain whatever agreement existed with Grant.”
A knock sounded on the storage unit door.
The security contractors drew closer.
“Ms. Vance?”
The marina manager stood outside.
“There’s a gentleman asking for you.”
Naomi looked at Clara.
“Name?”
“He said Grant.”
The room went cold.
Grant stood at the far end of the dock.
Gray jacket.
Hands visible.
No obvious weapon.
Naomi called police before anyone approached.
Grant smiled when Clara stopped twenty feet away.
“You look like Eleanor.”
“You followed my son.”
“Yes.”
“Do it again and I will destroy you.”
Grant’s smile faded.
“Good.”
Clara stared.
“Good?”
“You finally sound like her.”
“Who are you?”
“Someone who made the mistake of trusting your father.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“That club has members.”
Grant glanced at him.
“Daniel Mercer. Still alive.”
“Disappointed?”
“Surprised.”
Clara stepped forward.
“Where is Laura Hollis?”
Grant’s expression changed.
“Safe.”
“And Ethan?”
“Safer.”
“So they’re alive?”
“Yes.”
Clara’s pulse jumped.
“Where?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To warn you.”
“Arthur already tried.”
“Arthur doesn’t know what he’s warning you about.”
Grant looked toward the storage unit.
“You found Eleanor’s archive.”
Clara did not answer.
“That means they know.”
“Who?”
“The people behind Helix.”
“Names.”
Grant shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Then we’re done.”
Clara turned.
Grant called after her.
“Matthew wasn’t the target at the school.”
Clara stopped.
She turned slowly.
“What?”
“Victoria thought she was collecting your son.”
“Because she was.”
“No.”
Grant’s face became hard.
“Someone used her.”
Clara walked back.
“Explain.”
“The photograph you received wasn’t taken by me.”
“Who took it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
Grant looked toward Daniel.
“But ask yourself why someone wanted you frightened enough to remove Matthew from school.”
Naomi frowned.
“To isolate Clara.”
Grant nodded.
“Exactly.”
Clara crossed her arms.
“From what?”
“From the school.”
“What was at the school?”
Grant stared at her.
“Not what.”
He paused.
“Who.”
Clara felt a chill.
Grant continued.
“Someone enrolled a child there six weeks ago under a false name.”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“How old?”
May you like
Grant looked directly at Clara.
“Six.”
