Chapter 104 - The False Bottom
I slammed the satellite handset onto the seat and reached deep into the utility truck's dashboard compartment. My fingers dug past the owner's manual and the spare fuses until they found a thin ridge of plastic along the lower edge.
With a hard yank, the panel popped loose.
Inside lay a manila envelope, sealed with red wax bearing the crest of the Silver Gate trust—the same serpent-and-key seal that had marked every piece of misery in my life. Beneath it was a dated photograph.
I pulled it out into the gray daylight.
My breath trapped in my throat. It was a photograph taken no more than two weeks ago, showing the exterior of a small brick farmhouse surrounded by chain-link fencing. Sitting on the porch in a simple cotton dress was Clara.
She was older, her dark hair streaked with silver at the temples, but the slope of her jaw and the distinct scar across her left collarbone were undeniable. Standing behind her in the photograph was a private security guard wearing an tactical vest bearing the insignia of Vance Maritime.
"She's alive," I muttered, the words tasting like ash and iron.
All those years. All those nights sitting in Emma’s darkened bedroom, reassuring her that her mother was watching over us from the stars, that Clara had loved her with her dying breath. It had all been an elaborate fiction designed by Beatrice to keep me docile, isolated, and dependent on the family’s scraps until the day they decided Emma was old enough to be utilized for their trust funds.
"Daddy?" Emma asked, her small fingers curling around the edge of the photograph. She looked down at the woman on the paper, then up at my face. Her lower lip began to tremble. "Why is that lady wearing the necklace you keep in your locked drawer?"
The silver locket. The one piece of jewelry Arthur had returned to me after the funeral, claiming it was Clara’s last request. In the photograph, the woman was wearing an identical pendant.
"David," Chloe’s voice drifted from the speaker, steady and commanding. "Turn the truck around. Take Interstate 81 north toward the old quarry outside Roanoke. Come alone, bring Emma, and leave whatever weapons you took from Arthur’s safehouse on the shoulder of the highway. If you try to run west, Clara doesn't live to see sunset."
"And what happens to Emma if I bring her to you?" I asked, cold fury burning through the shock.
May you like
"She fulfills her purpose," Chloe said simply. "She signs the succession documents, and the trust releases two hundred million dollars to the surviving family. Do that, and you and your little broken family can have whatever crumbs are left over. Refuse... and you can bury Clara for real this time."
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