Chapter 5 - The Missing Phone
Malcolm Reed did not run.
That almost made Ethan trust him more.
When Ethan opened the conference room door and asked him to come inside, Malcolm entered, closed the door, and took the empty chair beside Marcus.
He had the calm posture of a man trained to make himself difficult to read.
Ethan placed the crash evidence transfer sheet in front of him.
"Did you take Julian's messenger bag?"
Malcolm read the page.
"Yes."
Claire stared at him.
Marcus went perfectly still.
Ethan expected denial, but the direct answer was worse.
"Why?"
"Mrs. Cole instructed me to retrieve any personal effects before the press learned about the accident."
"Where is the bag?"
Malcolm looked at Victoria's empty chair.
"I gave it to her."
Claire stood so quickly that the chair scraped backward.
"You gave her the evidence Julian died trying to protect?"
Malcolm's eyes moved to her.
"At the time, I believed I was recovering private family property."
"And now?"
He did not answer.
Ethan leaned forward.
"Was there anything in the bag?"
"A laptop, a paper ledger, two flash drives, and a phone."
Marcus's hand tightened around his pen.
Ethan noticed.
"What phone?"
"A prepaid device."
"Did you turn it on?"
"No."
"Did my mother?"
"I don't know."
Claire looked at Ethan.
"Julian had a second phone."
That fact changed everything.
The phone he used publicly had been recovered from the crash and destroyed by fire.
If the prepaid phone survived, his calls, messages, photographs, or recordings from his final days might still exist.
Ethan went to Victoria's private office.
She was not there.
The wall safe behind a painting was open and empty.
He called her.
She declined the call.
He called again.
This time her phone went directly to voicemail.
Malcolm checked the estate vehicle tracker.
Victoria's car had left through the north gate nine minutes earlier.
"Where would she go?" Ethan asked.
Malcolm hesitated.
"She has an apartment in Manhattan."
"Too obvious."
Claire remained near the office doorway with Grace.
The baby had been fed and was sleeping again.
"The greenhouse cottage."
Everyone looked at Claire.
"Why?" Ethan asked.
"Julian used to hide things there because your mother never went near the staff gardens."
Ethan and Malcolm crossed the rear lawn while Claire remained in the main house with Rachel Moreno's direct number saved in her phone.
The cottage smelled of dust, potting soil, and old wood.
Julian had not lived there, but he had spent time there with Claire when they wanted privacy.
She had moved out after his funeral.
Ethan searched the obvious places first.
Nothing.
Then Malcolm noticed a loose baseboard beneath the small kitchen cabinet.
Behind it was a narrow cavity.
Inside sat a blue metal box.
Ethan carried it to the table.
There was no lock.
The lid opened easily.
Inside were three objects.
A photograph of Julian and Claire standing beside a lake.
A small brass key with no label.
And a folded note in Julian's handwriting.
Ethan read it aloud.
"If anything happens to me, the phone is not with the bag. The bag is bait. The real copy is where Mom keeps the thing she hates most."
Malcolm frowned.
"What does she hate most?"
Ethan almost laughed.
"Losing."
Claire arrived at the cottage ten minutes later after Ethan called her.
She read the note.
"No. He meant something physical."
She studied the handwriting.
Then her eyes widened.
"The portrait."
"What portrait?"
"The painting of your father in the east hall."
Ethan understood.
Victoria hated the portrait because Henry Cole had insisted on being painted informally, without a suit, standing beside the old fishing boat he loved.
She called it sentimental and embarrassing.
After Henry died, she moved it from the main staircase to an unused east corridor.
They returned to the mansion.
The portrait hung exactly where Claire remembered.
Ethan lifted it from the wall.
A small envelope had been taped to the back of the frame.
Inside was a prepaid smartphone wrapped in plastic.
Claire covered her mouth.
Malcolm checked the battery.
Dead.
They charged it in Ethan's office.
Nobody spoke while the screen slowly came to life.
There was no passcode.
Only six contacts existed.
Claire.
Ethan.
A reporter named Dana Wu.
An accountant named Peter Lowell.
Marcus Hale.
And a contact saved only as V.
Ethan opened the messages with Marcus first.
Most were short requests for documents.
Then the tone changed three days before the crash.
Julian: You lied about Hartwell Medical.
Marcus: Be careful what you think you know.
Julian: I know the foundation paid them 4.2 million through Northcross Advisory.
Marcus: Call me.
Julian: No calls. Put it in writing.
There was no response.
Claire pointed to the conversation with V.
Ethan opened it.
The final message from Julian had been sent at 10:14 p.m. the night he died.
I know where he is.
The reply from V arrived one minute later.
Then you know why this cannot become public.
Claire whispered.
"V is Victoria."
Ethan opened the contact details.
The number did belong to his mother.
His stomach tightened.
He scrolled upward.
Earlier messages were stranger.
Victoria had begged Julian to stop asking about Hartwell Medical.
She had written that some truths would destroy people who had already suffered enough.
Julian accused her of protecting a crime.
Victoria replied that she was protecting a person.
Then Ethan found the final unsent draft on the phone.
It was addressed to him.
Ethan, if I don't make it tonight, don't believe the crash report.
The sentence continued.
The man we buried is not the only person Mom has hidden.
Ethan read it twice.
Claire's skin prickled.
"What does that mean?"
Before Ethan could answer, every light in the office went out.
The security system clicked once and died.
A second later, Grace began crying upstairs.
Claire ran.
Ethan and Malcolm followed.
At the top of the staircase, a housekeeper came out of the nursery shouting that a man in medical scrubs had entered through the service hall.
Claire reached the nursery first.
The bassinet was empty.
For one terrifying second, she made no sound at all.
Then a cry came from the adjoining dressing room.
May you like
Ethan opened the door.
A stranger in blue scrubs stood beside the window with Grace in his arms.
