Chapter 9 - Two Pregnancies
They traced Crowe’s phone to a private hotel outside Albany.
By the time police entered his room, he was gone.
No blood.
No signs of struggle.
A glass of bourbon remained on the table.
A laptop was missing.
One phrase had been written on hotel stationery.
H-24 IS NOT A CHILD.
Irene read the photograph Quinn sent.
“What does that mean?”
Austin shook his head.
The files clearly listed H-24 as male.
Born seven months after Irene.
Removed by Vale.
Unless the record was false.
They returned to Connecticut before dawn.
Irene’s certification deadline expired at 9:00 a.m.
At 7:40, Austin’s private security system detected a vehicle approaching the secure penthouse.
Grant checked the feed.
“It’s Charles.”
Austin stood.
Irene did too.
“You’re staying behind me.”
She almost smiled.
“You really haven’t learned much.”
The elevator opened.
Charles Wentworth stepped out.
Alive.
No disguise.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
Older than Austin remembered but unmistakably his father.
For a moment Austin was nine years younger.
He saw the coffin.
The family chapel.
Margaret gripping his hand.
Then anger returned.
Austin crossed the room and punched him.
Charles staggered into the wall.
Grant moved but did not interfere.
Charles touched his mouth.
Blood appeared on his thumb.
“I expected worse.”
Austin hit him again.
This time Irene caught Austin’s arm before the third blow.
“Austin.”
He stopped.
Charles looked at her.
“Irene.”
“Don’t say my name like you know me.”
“I knew you before he did.”
“That isn’t something to brag about.”
Charles almost smiled.
“You’re Evelyn’s daughter.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
He looked at her stomach.
“And the trust has recognized the pregnancy.”
Austin went still.
“How?”
“Automatic medical verification.”
“What medical verification?”
Charles glanced at Irene.
“The blood work from her first prenatal appointment.”
Irene’s face changed.
“You accessed my medical records?”
“Crowe did.”
“Without permission?”
“The custodial trustee has legacy access through a Harrow medical subsidiary.”
Irene looked disgusted.
“That ends today.”
“I hope so.”
Austin stepped between them.
“Where is Margaret?”
“Alive.”
“Where?”
“Protected.”
“From whom?”
“Crowe.”
“You expect us to believe that?”
“No.”
Charles removed a folder from inside his coat and placed it on the table.
“I expect you to read.”
Austin did not touch it.
“What is H-24?”
Charles’s eyes sharpened.
“So Crowe told you.”
“He told us there are two pregnancies.”
“Crowe tells the truth only when it makes his next lie believable.”
“Answer me.”
Charles sat.
“H-24 was never a baby.”
Irene stared.
“The record says male.”
“It was designed to.”
“What was it?”
“A contingency designation.”
“For what?”
Charles looked at Austin.
“For a pregnancy created from preserved Harrow genetic material.”
The room fell silent.
Irene’s voice was barely audible.
“Created how?”
“In 1995, Evelyn provided reproductive samples while under medical supervision. She believed they were routine.”
Austin understood before Irene did.
“Embryos.”
Charles nodded.
“One embryo was stored.”
Irene turned pale.
“So H-24…”
“Was transferred years later.”
“To whom?”
Charles hesitated.
“A surrogate.”
“When?”
“Thirty years ago.”
Austin stared.
“Then H-24 would be around thirty.”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
Charles looked toward the folder.
“That is what Crowe is afraid you’ll discover.”
Irene opened it.
Inside were medical records.
A surrogate identified only by initials M.L.W.
Successful male birth.
November 22.
No child name.
No custody record.
Irene read the genetic notation.
Maternal line: Evelyn Harrow.
Paternal donor: sealed.
She looked at Charles.
“You said there were two pregnancies in the certification record.”
“Yes.”
“One is mine.”
“Yes.”
“What’s the other?”
Charles looked directly at Austin.
“Carla.”
Austin stopped breathing.
“No.”
“Your sister is eight weeks pregnant.”
Austin stared.
“That doesn’t make her a Harrow heir.”
Charles said nothing.
Irene saw it first.
“Oh God.”
Austin looked at her.
Then back at his father.
“No.”
Charles’s expression was grim.
“H-24 grew up.”
“Who?”
Charles opened the final page.
A photograph.
Nathaniel Crowe.
Younger.
Around thirty.
The same sharp nose.
Same eyes.
Austin looked at Charles.
“Crowe is H-24?”
“Yes.”
“And Carla…”
May you like
Charles closed his eyes.
“Is carrying his child.”
