Chapter 6 - Jonathan Blackwell
Evelyn left Andrew’s office without remembering the elevator ride down.
Jonathan Blackwell was alive.
She had mourned him for decades without being allowed to admit she was mourning him.
Her father told her Jonathan fled because he did not want a child.
Arthur told her never to search.
Eventually life continued.
Edward loved her.
Andrew was born.
Years became decades.
But Jonathan had been alive.
And Andrew had known for three years.
Evelyn drove directly to Rachel’s apartment.
Edward was there.
She told them.
His response was terrifyingly calm.
“Where?”
“Andrew wouldn’t say.”
Rachel asked, “Why would Jonathan contact Andrew instead of you?”
“I don’t know.”
Edward looked at Evelyn.
“I think you do.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Think.”
Evelyn sat.
Memories she had buried began surfacing.
Jonathan showing her blueprints.
Jonathan arguing with Charles.
Jonathan saying her father was “selling something that didn’t belong to him.”
Jonathan once telling her:
If anything happens to me, ask Arthur about the ground.
At the time she thought he meant construction.
Now she whispered the sentence.
Edward went still.
“The ground.”
“Yes.”
“Carter Ridge.”
“Maybe.”
Rachel walked to the table.
“So Jonathan discovered whatever is beneath Section 17.”
Edward nodded.
“And Charles wanted to sell it.”
“To someone.”
“Blackwell?”
“Blackwell may have started as Jonathan’s family company.”
Rachel looked at the twenty-thousand-dollar receipt.
“Then who owns it now?”
That question changed the investigation.
Edward hired an attorney.
Not a family friend.
Not someone connected to the Carter business network.
A federal litigation attorney named Melissa Grant.
She arrived the next morning.
Forty-six, practical, sharp-eyed.
She listened without interrupting.
When Edward finished, Melissa looked at Rachel.
“First priority: you and the children.”
Rachel frowned.
“Why?”
“Because forged financial documents with your name create liability.”
“I didn’t sign anything.”
“That doesn’t stop creditors from claiming you did.”
Rachel felt sick.
Melissa continued.
“We document your position now.”
She prepared sworn statements.
They froze Rachel’s credit.
They contacted the bank’s fraud department.
Then Melissa began tracing Blackwell Strategic Holdings.
Two hours later, she stared at her laptop.
“This company shouldn’t exist.”
Edward leaned over.
“Why?”
“It was administratively dissolved twelve years ago.”
Rachel looked at the transfer receipt.
“Then how did Andrew send it money?”
“Good question.”
Melissa searched another registry.
“Someone restored the corporate status eighteen months ago.”
“Who?”
The screen loaded.
Melissa stopped.
“What?”
She turned the computer.
The authorized agent was Daniel Mercer.
The man who had come to Rachel’s apartment.
“Can you find the owner?”
“Not publicly.”
Edward said, “Jonathan.”
“Maybe.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Why would Jonathan allow his son’s children to starve?”
Nobody answered.
Melissa looked at the receipt.
“The twenty thousand was probably not a purchase.”
“What was it?”
“Could be a fee.”
“For what?”
“Access.”
Edward frowned.
“Access to what?”
Melissa looked at him.
“You tell me.”
Carter Ridge.
That afternoon, Edward drove to the county records office.
Carter Ridge had three active permits.
Two were minor agricultural permits.
The third was excavation.
Approved six months earlier.
Applicant:
Blackwell Strategic Holdings.
Location:
Section 17.
Edward called Rachel immediately.
“They’re digging.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does Andrew?”
“He must.”
“Then stop him.”
Edward looked at the permit.
“They’re already six months ahead of us.”
Rachel’s voice went quiet.
“Edward.”
“Yes?”
“What happens if they find it?”
He did not answer.
Because he did not know.
That evening, Andrew finally visited the children.
Rachel agreed only because Melissa advised her to document his behavior.
Andrew arrived alone.
No suit.
No arrogance.
He looked exhausted.
Toby refused to hug him.
Sophia hid in her room.
Andrew sat at the kitchen table.
“I brought groceries.”
Rachel stared at the bags.
“Why?”
“They need food.”
“They needed food last month.”
“I know.”
“Last week.”
“I know.”
“Yesterday.”
“I said I know.”
Rachel sat across from him.
“Who is Jonathan Blackwell?”
Andrew closed his eyes.
“Mom told you.”
“Yes.”
“He’s not what she thinks.”
“What does she think?”
“That he was some lost love.”
“What is he?”
Andrew looked toward the hallway.
“Can we not do this with the kids here?”
“You brought all of this into their lives.”
Andrew lowered his voice.
“Jonathan contacted me three years ago.”
“Why?”
“He claimed he was my biological father.”
“Did you test?”
“Yes.”
Rachel’s stomach tightened.
“And?”
Andrew stared at her.
“He is.”
Rachel absorbed it.
“Does Edward know?”
“No.”
“He will.”
“I know.”
“Why contact you after almost forty years?”
Andrew hesitated.
“He wanted access to Carter Ridge.”
“There it is.”
“He said something belonged to his family.”
“Under Section 17?”
Andrew’s eyes sharpened.
“You know about that?”
Rachel leaned forward.
“What is buried there?”
Andrew looked genuinely afraid.
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I know what Jonathan says.”
“Which is?”
Andrew whispered:
“Evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
“Something Charles Whitmore and Arthur Carter did together.”
Rachel stared.
“What?”
Andrew looked toward the window.
“Jonathan says if it comes out, everything the Carter family owns could be seized.”
Rachel almost laughed.
“We don’t own anything.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, Andrew. I understand perfectly. You were afraid of losing money, so you abandoned your children.”
His face twisted.
“It wasn’t that simple.”
“Toby stole food.”
Andrew flinched.
Rachel continued.
“Your son stole food because he thought his little sister needed it more.”
“I sent money.”
“Eight hundred dollars.”
“I was being watched.”
“By whom?”
“Jonathan.”
Rachel went still.
Andrew leaned closer.
“He told me if I supported you beyond a specific amount, he would know I was moving assets.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if the separation was part of the arrangement.”
Rachel stared.
“What arrangement?”
Andrew looked ashamed now.
Genuinely ashamed.
“I was supposed to make it look like I had cut you off.”
Rachel stood slowly.
“You were supposed to?”
“I needed Jonathan to believe you weren’t involved.”
“Involved in what?”
“Carter Ridge.”
Rachel’s voice shook with fury.
“So you let your children go hungry as camouflage?”
“I didn’t know it was this bad.”
“You never asked.”
“I thought you still had savings.”
“You emptied them.”
Andrew stood.
“I had to move the joint account.”
“Why?”
“Because someone was using it to trace you.”
Rachel stopped.
“What?”
Andrew took out his phone.
He opened a photograph.
It showed Rachel leaving Toby’s school two months earlier.
Another showed Sophia at a playground.
Another showed their apartment building.
Rachel felt suddenly cold.
“Who took these?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve had these?”
“They were sent to me.”
“When?”
“Over the last six months.”
“And you never told me?”
Andrew’s eyes filled with something close to panic.
“Because every message came with the same instruction.”
“What instruction?”
Andrew showed her the final image.
Across the bottom was a typed sentence.
KEEP THEM POOR.
May you like
KEEP THEM INVISIBLE.
OR WE TAKE THE CHILDREN FIRST.
