Chapter 6 - Lauren's Second Phone)
Victor had anticipated the police.
Storage Unit 214 was empty.
But Noah had been there.
His second shoe lay beside the roll-up door.
Mark stared at it while forensic technicians worked around him.
Coleman approached.
“He's moving the boy intentionally.”
“What do you mean?”
“He wants us following.”
“Why?”
“To control where we're looking.”
Mark looked at her.
“So where aren't we looking?”
Coleman did not answer immediately.
Then both of them thought of the same place.
The hospital.
They called.
Abigail was safe.
Two officers remained outside her room.
But a nurse reported something strange.
A woman had attempted to enter claiming to be from child protective services.
She left after being asked for identification.
Security footage captured her face.
Mark did not recognize her.
Lauren did.
Her name was Dana Pike.
The same Miss Dana Abigail had mentioned.
Coleman returned to the station and placed Lauren in front of a monitor.
“Who is she?”
Lauren swallowed.
“Victor's sister.”
“Where does she live?”
“I don't know.”
“What does she do?”
“She cleans up his problems.”
Mark stood behind the observation glass.
Lauren could not see him.
Coleman placed Lauren's second phone on the table.
Police had recovered it from a locked drawer inside Lauren's office.
“You said Victor had access.”
“He does.”
“Then help us use that.”
Lauren shook her head.
“He'll know.”
“Your stepson has been kidnapped.”
Lauren flinched.
Mark noticed.
Stepson.
It was the first time anyone had spoken the word aloud that day.
Noah's biological mother had died shortly after his birth.
Lauren had entered his life when he was three.
For five years, she had tucked him into bed.
Packed his lunches.
Attended school conferences.
Noah called her Mom sometimes.
Now Mark wondered how much of that life had been real.
Coleman slid the phone toward Lauren.
“Call Victor.”
Lauren did.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then a message appeared.
You talked too much.
Lauren's breathing changed.
Another message.
Check the old office.
Lauren looked up.
Mark walked into the room.
“What old office?”
Lauren stared at him.
“Bennett Residential's first office.”
The company had moved three years ago.
The old building was scheduled for demolition.
They drove there with six officers.
The place smelled like dust and damp wood.
Mark remembered working there with Michael.
Late nights.
Cheap coffee.
Arguments over invoices.
Laughter from the back office.
Michael once drawing a ridiculous mustache on Mark's employee badge.
The memory hurt.
Lauren led them downstairs.
“There was a records room.”
The door was open.
Inside sat a single chair.
Noah was not there.
But his green backpack rested on the chair.
A phone was taped to it.
The phone rang.
Coleman activated speaker mode.
Victor's voice filled the room.
“You keep bringing friends, Mark.”
“Where's my son?”
“Alive.”
“You want the box. You can have it.”
“I want the original materials.”
“You'll get them.”
“No police.”
Mark looked at Coleman.
She mouthed, Keep him talking.
Victor continued.
“You always were the easier twin.”
Mark froze.
“You knew Michael.”
A soft laugh.
“Michael asked too many questions.”
“Did you kill him?”
Victor was silent.
Then he said, “Not when I should have.”
The line ended.
Coleman immediately ordered a trace.
Mark turned toward Lauren.
“You heard that.”
She nodded.
“Michael survived longer than you claimed.”
“I told you Victor said—”
“I don't care what Victor said.”
Mark lifted Noah's backpack.
Something inside rattled.
He opened the smallest pocket.
A key fell into his palm.
Not one of Noah's keys.
A brass tag was attached.
BR 117.
Coleman stared.
“Briar Road?”
Mark shook his head.
“No. Bennett Residential.”
The old office had numbered storage rooms.
Room 117 was behind the main workshop.
They found the door padlocked.
The key opened it.
Inside were dozens of old company boxes.
At the back stood a metal filing cabinet.
One drawer contained financial records from the months before the fire.
Another contained photographs of Victor Hale meeting with Lauren's father.
The bottom drawer was locked.
Coleman forced it open.
Inside was a cassette recorder.
Old-fashioned.
And an envelope marked M.
Mark pressed play.
Michael's voice emerged through static.
“If Mark ever hears this, it means I was right.”
Mark closed his eyes.
Michael continued.
“Lauren says she can fix the accounts. I don't believe her anymore.”
A woman's voice answered.
Lauren.
“You don't understand what Victor is capable of.”
“I understand exactly what he is.”
“You'll put Mark and Noah in danger.”
“Then help me stop him.”
A pause.
Lauren's voice dropped.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
Long silence.
Then Lauren said something Mark had never heard before.
“Because Victor knows what I did to Noah's mother.”
Mark stopped breathing.
The tape clicked off.
No one moved.
Mark looked at Lauren.
May you like
Her face had collapsed.
“What did you do?”
