Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN IN THE ROBE
The police arrived fourteen minutes later.
By then, Noah had disappeared.
His car remained in the driveway. His wallet was still in the bedroom. His shoes stood beside the bed.
But Noah was gone.
There were no broken windows and no open doors. The security system showed no one leaving the property after Elena entered her study.
Camille remained seated on the edge of the bed, wrapped in Elena’s robe and answering questions through tears she struggled to control.
Detective Marcus Sloane examined the false passport beneath the bedside lamp.
“This is not a cheap forgery,” he said. “The paper, security strip, and holographic seal appear genuine.”
Elena folded her arms.
“Can a genuine passport be issued under a false name?”
“Not without access to government databases or several compromised officials.”
“What about the dating account?”
Sloane glanced toward Noah’s phone, which rested inside an evidence bag.
“The company has already been contacted. We will request the login records.”
Camille looked at Elena.
“I didn’t know.”
Elena did not answer.
Camille swallowed.
“You have every reason to hate me, but I truly believed you were dead.”
“You came into my house.”
“Noah gave me the alarm code.”
“You put on my robe.”
“My dress was wet. Someone spilled wine on me at the restaurant. Noah said I could borrow something from the closet.”
“You brought my mother’s necklace.”
Camille looked at the jewelry box.
“I didn’t know it belonged to you.”
“Where did you get it?”
“It arrived at my apartment three days ago.”
“From Noah?”
“No. From an estate service.”
Camille searched her handbag and removed a folded courier receipt.
The sender was listed as Mercer Estate Holdings.
Elena recognized the company name.
Her mother had used it to manage several properties before her death. Elena had dissolved the company during probate.
Camille continued.
“There was a card inside the package. It said the necklace had been selected for Noah’s future wife.”
Elena stared at her.
“What exactly did the card say?”
Camille hesitated.
“It said, ‘A second wife should never arrive empty-handed.’”
Detective Sloane exchanged a glance with Elena.
“Do you still have the card?”
Camille shook her head.
“Noah burned it in the fireplace.”
Elena looked toward the bedroom hearth.
A small pile of blackened paper remained beneath the grate.
Noah had not used that fireplace in years.
“Why would he burn it?” Sloane asked.
“He said it upset him because it reminded him of Elena.”
“You mean the wife he claimed was dead?”
Camille lowered her eyes.
“Yes.”
Sloane asked an officer to collect the ash.
Elena approached the open jewelry box. The pearls had belonged to Celeste Mercer’s grandmother and had passed through four generations of women.
Elena’s mother had worn them in every formal family photograph.
After Celeste died, Elena placed them in a private bank vault.
Only Elena and Noah had access.
She lifted the necklace.
The clasp felt heavier than she remembered.
When she turned it beneath the lamp, she noticed a narrow line around the center of the silver fastening.
A hidden compartment.
Sloane brought an evidence knife and gently separated the two pieces.
Inside the clasp was a storage chip no larger than a fingernail.
Camille covered her mouth.
“I didn’t know that was there.”
Elena believed her.
Not because she trusted Camille, but because Camille’s fear appeared too immediate to be rehearsed.
The chip required a specialized reader. Sloane promised to send it to the digital forensics unit.
Elena looked at the timer on her computer.
Fifty-eight minutes remained.
“I’m going to Bellweather.”
Sloane shook his head.
“You are going nowhere.”
“The message threatened someone using my married name.”
“It could be bait.”
“It is bait. That does not mean no one is in danger.”
“We will send officers.”
“The message said to come without Noah. Whoever sent it will be watching.”
“That is precisely why you will stay here.”
Elena turned to Olivia, who had arrived moments after the police.
“Did you search Eleanor Mercer?”
Olivia held up her tablet.
“There are seven women with that name in the state records. Six are clearly unrelated.”
“And the seventh?”
Olivia’s expression was troubled.
“The seventh was born on the same day as you.”
The room went quiet.
“Where?”
“St. Catherine’s Hospital.”
Elena felt cold spreading across her skin.
“That is where I was born.”
“The record lists the same mother.”
“My mother had one child.”
“The record says Celeste Mercer delivered twin girls.”
Elena stared at the tablet.
“There was never another baby.”
Olivia enlarged the document.
The birth record had been sealed by court order three days after Elena was born.
The second child’s name was Eleanor Celeste Mercer.
No father was listed.
A handwritten notation appeared at the bottom.
TRANSFERRED UNDER PROTECTIVE AUTHORITY.
“What does that mean?” Camille asked.
Olivia shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Elena’s phone vibrated.
The fake profile had sent a photograph.
It showed Noah sitting in a metal chair inside a dark room. His hands were tied loosely in front of him, and a digital clock hung on the wall behind his head.
Forty-seven minutes.
Noah’s face was bruised, but he was conscious.
He held a card against his chest.
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On it, someone had written:
YOUR HUSBAND KNOWS WHICH BABY LEFT THE HOSPITAL.
