Chapter 8 - THE THIRD PASSENGERWilliam Prescott had attended Arthur Vale's funeral.
He had attended Celeste's funeral.
He had stood beside Dominic at both gravesides and promised to help him carry the weight of the company.
Now Celeste was telling investigators that Prescott had been aboard the blue boat the night she disappeared.
Detective Brooks knew her recollection needed careful evaluation.
Trauma and prolonged manipulation could complicate memory.
He would not treat a single recovered recollection as proof.
But he had other evidence.
Prescott's phone records.
The Northpoint transfers.
His role in Graham Pike's suspicious death-benefit payment.
And now a photograph recovered from an old marina employee's personal archive.
It showed a dark sedan entering the private dock at 8:43 p.m.
The license plate belonged to Prescott's company vehicle.
Brooks placed the photograph beside the other records.
A pattern was emerging.
At Vale Tower, Prescott was preparing for an investor conference.
Beatrice sat across from him.
“You promised me this would be handled.”
Prescott closed his laptop.
“It is being handled.”
“Dominic found Celeste.”
His expression hardened.
“I know.”
“She remembers things.”
“That remains to be established.”
Beatrice leaned forward.
“You told me Harrow's treatment was effective.”
Prescott looked at her coldly.
“You employed Harrow.”
“On your recommendation.”
“And you agreed because Oliver was becoming a problem.”
Beatrice's face tightened.
“Don't speak about my grandson that way.”
Prescott laughed.
“That's rich.”
She stood.
“I want the remaining documents destroyed.”
“No.”
“William.”
“No more improvisation.”
Prescott opened his desk drawer and removed a small black flash drive.
Beatrice stared.
“What's that?”
“Insurance.”
“Against whom?”
He smiled faintly.
“Everyone.”
Beatrice took a step backward.
Prescott continued.
“You seem to have forgotten who arranged the original transactions.”
“I haven't forgotten anything.”
“Then you remember Arthur.”
Her face went white.
Prescott leaned back.
“You also remember what happened when he threatened to expose us.”
Beatrice whispered:
“You said nobody would get hurt.”
Prescott's smile disappeared.
“People say many things when they're frightened.”
Dominic spent the morning speaking with an independent child-protection attorney.
He wanted temporary custody arrangements, medical permissions, and household safeguards clarified before Celeste returned.
There was no question that Oliver was his son.
But the forged trust documents and Beatrice's questionable authorization forms had created confusion about who had signed various treatment agreements.
Dominic wanted every record examined.
He also wanted Oliver's recovery protected from the corporate dispute.
Rebecca agreed.
“We'll establish a clear separation.”
Dominic looked at her.
“And Claire?”
“What about her?”
“She needs proper employment protection. My mother hired her. She might claim Claire violated her contract.”
Rebecca nodded.
“I'll review it.”
Dominic hesitated.
“I also want to make sure she isn't pressured into staying because Oliver likes her.”
Rebecca looked surprised.
He continued.
“She should have a choice.”
For the first time that week, Rebecca smiled.
“That's reasonable.”
Claire was in the greenhouse when Dominic found her.
She was watering Celeste's orchids.
Most had survived despite months of neglect.
A few were beginning to bloom.
“Claire.”
She turned.
“Mr. Vale.”
“Dominic.”
She smiled faintly.
“Dominic.”
He looked at the flowers.
“Celeste loved this room.”
“I know.”
He glanced at her.
Claire looked uncomfortable.
“Rosa told me before she disappeared. She said Mrs. Vale used to spend mornings here with Oliver.”
Dominic touched a purple orchid.
“I stopped coming in after the accident.”
Claire lowered the watering can.
“I'm glad she's alive.”
Dominic nodded.
“So am I.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he said:
“I wanted to thank you.”
“You already have.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You saw something I refused to see.”
Claire shook her head.
“I only noticed he was frightened.”
“That was enough to change everything.”
She glanced away.
Dominic continued.
“Rebecca is preparing a new employment agreement. It includes a clear role, appropriate training, time off, and independent supervision of Oliver's care.”
Claire listened.
“You're free to decline. I don't want you to feel trapped here.”
She studied him.
“May I ask something?”
“Anything.”
“Why did you leave him alone so much?”
The question struck hard.
Dominic could have blamed grief.
Work.
His mother's interference.
All of those things mattered.
But they weren't the entire answer.
He looked at the orchids.
“Because every time I looked at him, I saw Celeste.”
Claire said nothing.
“And I couldn't bear it.”
His voice broke.
“So I convinced myself providing everything he needed was the same as being here.”
He looked at her.
“It wasn't.”
Claire's expression softened.
“No.”
Dominic nodded.
“I know.”
That afternoon, Celeste underwent further medical evaluation.
The new team documented her injuries and reviewed the facility's records.
She was physically stable enough to begin discussing a return to Chicago, but the transition would require planning.
She had no memory of many events.
Certain sounds frightened her.
She struggled with unexpected touch.
And whenever someone mentioned Beatrice, she became visibly distressed.
Emily remained her preferred nurse.
Celeste asked her to stay during interviews.
When Detective Brooks returned, she agreed to tell him what she remembered.
“I was investigating Prescott,” she began.
Brooks activated the recording after obtaining her consent.
“Why Prescott?”
“Because of Arthur.”
“Dominic's father?”
She nodded.
“Arthur found the money. Evelyn told me.”
“What happened at the marina?”
Celeste closed her eyes.
“I went to meet a man who said he had documents.”
“Daniel Cross?”
“Yes.”
“Was that his real name?”
“I don't know.”
“Who arrived?”
“Graham.”
“Anyone else?”
Celeste's hands began trembling.
“Prescott.”
Brooks waited.
“And Beatrice.”
“Were they together?”
“I think so.”
Celeste swallowed.
“They said I had to return the documents.”
“Did you have them?”
“Copies.”
“Where were they?”
She looked toward the window.
“In the boat.”
Brooks leaned forward slightly.
“Which boat?”
“The blue one.”
“What happened next?”
Celeste's breathing accelerated.
A nurse checked whether she wanted to continue.
She nodded.
“Beatrice told me Dominic would never believe me.”
Her voice cracked.
“She said she'd tell everyone I was unstable.”
Brooks listened.
“Then Graham grabbed me.”
Celeste covered her face.
“I remember something sharp in my arm.”
She began crying.
Emily moved closer.
“Would you like to stop?”
Celeste nodded.
The interview ended.
But Brooks had enough to compare her account with the recovered video.
The details matched several visible events.
Not proof of every allegation.
But important corroboration.
That evening, Dominic received a call from an unknown number.
He almost ignored it.
Then a text appeared.
I know where Prescott keeps the original files.
Dominic stared.
Another message followed.
Your wife isn't the only one he imprisoned.
Dominic forwarded both messages to Brooks.
Then his phone rang again.
He answered on speaker with Vincent present.
“Who is this?”
A woman's voice whispered:
“My name is Laura Pike.”
Dominic froze.
Graham's supposedly widowed wife.
“Where are you?”
“I can't tell you.”
“Why are you calling me?”
“Because Graham lied to me.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“About what?”
“Everything.”
He waited.
Laura began crying.
“He told me Celeste drowned.”
Dominic gripped the phone.
“Where is Graham?”
“I don't know where he is now.”
“Then what do you know?”
Laura hesitated.
“I know where they took her after the boat.”
“We found the facility.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“Before the facility.”
Dominic went still.
Laura continued.
“There was a warehouse near the old harbor. They kept her there for two nights.”
“Why?”
“Because she wouldn't tell them where she'd hidden the evidence.”
Dominic looked at Vincent.
Vincent was already contacting Brooks.
Laura's breathing became ragged.
“I found Graham's old photographs.”
“What photographs?”
“Of the warehouse.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“Send them to the police.”
“I will.”
“Laura, why are you helping?”
She began crying harder.
“Because I found something else.”
“What?”
“A photograph of a little boy.”
Dominic felt his pulse quicken.
“Oliver?”
“Yes.”
“What about him?”
Laura's voice dropped to a whisper.
“He was in the warehouse, Dominic.”
The room went silent.
Dominic stared at the phone.
“That isn't possible.”
Oliver had been home with Beatrice during Celeste's trip.
His mother had assured him.
Laura continued.
“Graham kept the photograph hidden. Your son is standing beside the blue boat.”
Dominic could barely speak.
“Send it.”
Seconds later, the image arrived.
Dominic opened it.
A small boy stood beside a warehouse door.
Brown curls.
Blue jacket.
A stuffed gray elephant clutched against his chest.
Oliver.
On the night Celeste disappeared.
Dominic staggered backward.
Vincent caught his arm.
Then Laura whispered:
“Dominic, there's something written on the back.”
“What?”
May you like
Her voice broke.
If the mother won't talk, use the child.
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