Chapter 7 - The Week Thomas Hart Disappeared
At first Amelia assumed her father was angry.
Thomas could be stubborn enough to ignore a telephone for days if he believed someone had questioned his judgment.
But by the fourth missed call, she became uneasy.
By the seventh, she called Martin.
"No answer," Martin said.
"You haven't seen him?"
"Not in five days."
"Where's Cassandra?"
"Back at Hart House."
Amelia stood.
"What?"
"Thomas reinstated her."
"No, he didn't."
"There's a signed directive."
"Forged."
"Possibly."
"Martin."
"I'm already challenging it."
"Where is my father?"
"According to Cassandra, resting under medical supervision."
"Which doctor?"
"She won't say."
Amelia's voice hardened.
"You are his attorney."
"And you're his daughter. She is blocking both of us."
"Call the police."
"I did. They visited Hart House yesterday."
"And?"
"Thomas spoke to them."
Amelia froze.
"He was there?"
"Apparently."
"Apparently?"
"They didn't see him directly. They spoke through a physician."
"That makes no sense."
"I know."
Amelia immediately called Nathaniel.
He was in California.
Within forty minutes his security team began checking travel records, hospital networks, aircraft manifests, and digital activity.
Thomas's phone had not left Hart House.
His credit cards had not been used.
His vehicle remained in the garage.
Nathaniel said, "He's either inside the house or someone wants us to think he is."
Amelia requested emergency leave.
It was denied for forty-eight hours due to operational requirements.
Those two days became the longest of her life.
On the second night, an email arrived from Thomas's account.
Amelia.
I need peace. Please stop calling.
Cassandra is helping me manage everything.
I have changed my estate plans.
Do not come home until I request it.
Dad
Amelia read the message three times.
Then she called Nathaniel.
"That's not him."
"How do you know?"
"He never signs emails Dad."
Nathaniel became quiet.
"What does he use?"
"T."
Amelia forwarded the message.
Nathaniel's team analyzed it.
The email came from Thomas's home network.
That proved nothing.
At 2:14 the next morning, Amelia received another message.
This time from an unknown number.
Your father asked me to give you this if things became difficult.
Attached was a photograph.
Thomas stood beside the Charleston Harbor clock.
The photograph had been taken months earlier.
He held a newspaper.
On the newspaper Thomas had written one sentence.
Eleanor always knew where to hide letters.
Amelia remembered his clues.
Your mother's letters.
The Charleston Harbor clock.
The day you learned to salute.
She called Nathaniel.
"I know where he hid something."
"Where?"
"The library."
At dawn Nathaniel's Charleston security director entered Hart House with Martin under authority related to corporate records.
Cassandra objected.
Julian threatened legal action.
They searched only Thomas's study and company archive.
Nothing.
Then Nathaniel called Amelia from the library.
"Your mother's letters are here."
"There's a box marked for me."
Nathaniel found it.
Inside were thirty-two letters Eleanor had written to Amelia during the final year of her illness.
Nathaniel opened none.
Amelia guided him by video.
"Check the envelopes."
"Nothing."
"The box."
He examined the bottom.
"It's solid."
"Turn it over."
A false panel moved.
Inside was a brass key.
Attached to the key was a small metal tag engraved 0714.
July 14.
The date Amelia learned to salute during a childhood military summer camp Thomas had jokingly attended.
Nathaniel understood immediately.
"Safe deposit box."
"But which bank?"
"Charleston Harbor clock."
There was an old bank building across from Charleston Harbor's historic clock tower.
Thomas had used it decades earlier.
Nathaniel and Martin arrived before noon.
The key opened a private box registered through Eleanor Hart's estate.
Inside were three sealed envelopes and a flash drive.
One envelope was addressed to Amelia.
One to Martin.
One to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel called Amelia.
"We found it."
"What is it?"
"I don't know."
"Open yours."
He hesitated.
Then did.
The first sentence made him stop.
Nathaniel,
If you're reading this, I'm either dead or someone has managed to make me appear legally incompetent.
Nathaniel's face changed.
Amelia whispered, "Read the rest."
Before he could, Martin's phone rang.
Martin answered.
His expression emptied.
"What?"
Amelia watched through Nathaniel's screen.
Martin slowly lowered the phone.
"Thomas was taken to Saint Joseph Medical Center twenty minutes ago."
Amelia stood.
"Why?"
Martin looked at her.
"Cardiac arrest."
She stopped breathing.
"Is he alive?"
May you like
Martin's eyes filled.
"No."
