Chapter 6 - THE MAN IN THE POLICE JACKET
The officers returned fire.
The black sedan sped away.
One bullet struck the wall above Margaret’s head.
Another tore through the couch.
The third shattered a framed photograph of Claire and Ethan on their wedding day.
Detective Ruiz called in the vehicle description.
Ethan pulled Claire behind the brick fireplace.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“What about the baby?”
Claire stared at him.
He corrected himself.
“Sophie.”
“She needs us.”
Local police secured the street.
Margaret was taken to a protected location.
Detective Ruiz recovered a shell casing from the floor.
“This was not meant to frighten you.”
Claire looked at the shattered wedding photograph.
“They wanted to kill all of us.”
Ethan’s phone vibrated.
A video call appeared from Julian.
Detective Ruiz motioned for him to answer.
Julian’s face filled the screen.
He sat inside a dimly lit room.
Behind him, Sophie cried.
Claire lunged toward the phone.
“Sophie!”
Julian smiled.
The child was strapped into a wooden chair.
Her stuffed rabbit lay on the table.
“You have something my mother wants.”
Ethan’s voice became cold.
“Eleanor is not your mother.”
Julian’s smile disappeared.
“She raised me.”
“She used you.”
“She trusted me more than she ever trusted you.”
Claire stepped beside Ethan.
“Let Sophie go.”
Julian lifted the rabbit.
“We found the memory card.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“Then you don’t need her.”
“We cannot unlock the files.”
Julian leaned closer to the camera.
“You created the password.”
“Give it to me.”
Claire shook her head.
“You will kill her the moment you have it.”
Julian looked toward someone outside the frame.
Eleanor’s voice came from the darkness.
“Claire always was more intelligent than you.”
Julian flinched.
Eleanor stepped into view.
She wore a gray coat and black gloves.
“Hello, Ethan.”
Ethan stared at the woman who had raised him.
“You pushed my wife off a balcony.”
“She should have accepted the life I allowed her to keep.”
“You kidnapped my daughter.”
“I protected this family before you were old enough to understand what the name Hawthorne required.”
Ethan tightened his hand around the phone.
“Where is my father?”
Eleanor’s expression did not change.
“You should ask Claire.”
Ethan turned.
Claire looked confused.
Eleanor continued.
“She found him.”
“She spoke to him.”
“And she chose not to tell you.”
The call ended.
Ethan faced Claire.
“What did she mean?”
Claire’s silence answered before her words did.
“You knew he was alive?”
“I found him at the clinic.”
“When?”
“The night I disappeared.”
Ethan stepped away.
“You let me mourn him for eighteen years.”
“He was not the man you remembered.”
“He was barely conscious.”
“Then you should have told me.”
“I was trying to get him out.”
“What happened?”
Claire looked down.
“Eleanor arrived before I could.”
“She ordered Grant to lock me in the room beside him.”
Ethan’s anger faded into horror.
“You were held at that clinic?”
“For four months.”
“How did you escape?”
“Your father helped me.”
Ethan’s eyes filled.
“He was alive when you left?”
“Yes.”
Claire’s voice broke.
“But he made me promise not to bring you there.”
“Why?”
“Because he said Eleanor was not the person giving the orders.”
Detective Ruiz watched them carefully.
“Who was?”
Claire reached into her pocket and removed a folded piece of paper.
She had carried it for eighteen months.
Ethan opened it.
The message was written in his father’s handwriting.
Trust no one named Hawthorne.
May you like
At the bottom was a second sentence.
Especially my son.
