Chapter 2 - The Woman in the Photograph
Elena didn't follow the stranger.
Adrian did.
“Stay here.”
She grabbed his sleeve.
“No.”
He looked down at her hand.
Elena released him.
“If somebody wanted you to chase them,” she said, “running after them is exactly what they expect.”
Adrian studied her.
“You've dealt with people like this before?”
“I worked in an emergency clinic in Brooklyn. You learn not to run toward every open door.”
The mysterious catering worker disappeared.
Adrian's security men moved toward the exit.
He stopped them.
“Lock the building down quietly.”
Madison heard him.
“You cannot lock down my wedding.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Watch me.”
Daniel Whitmore finally stood.
He was thirty-four, polished and handsome in the way expensive tailoring could make ordinary men appear important.
“This has gone far enough.”
Adrian held up the photograph.
“Do you recognize your wife?”
Daniel's face changed.
That was enough.
Madison saw it.
“You don't.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Madison?”
“It's fake.”
“That's you.”
“It looks like me.”
“You were twenty-two.”
Madison folded her arms.
“I've been photographed thousands of times.”
Elena turned the picture over again.
ELENA IS NEXT. GET HER OUT.
The handwriting bothered her.
She had seen it before.
But where?
Adrian's security chief, Marcus Bell, approached.
“Building exits are covered.”
“Find the employee who delivered this.”
“We're checking staff.”
Elena interrupted.
“He wasn't staff.”
Marcus looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“His shoes.”
Adrian glanced toward her.
“Shoes?”
“Catering staff wear black nonslip shoes. He had leather dress shoes.”
Marcus nodded.
“Good catch.”
Elena wasn't trying to impress anyone.
She wanted to go home.
That possibility was disappearing quickly.
Adrian asked the catering manager for a private room.
Within minutes, they were inside the manor's library.
Elena.
Adrian.
Marcus.
Madison.
Daniel.
Nobody else.
Madison refused to surrender her phone.
Marcus didn't force her.
Yet.
Adrian placed the photograph on a desk.
“Start talking.”
Madison laughed.
“You don't order me around.”
“Then talk to your husband.”
Daniel stared at the photograph.
“Why were you with Lucia?”
“I wasn't.”
“Madison.”
“It's manipulated.”
Elena looked closer.
The image was grainy but convincing.
Saint Catherine's old entrance appeared behind them.
A timestamp ran along the bottom.
November 22.
11:43 p.m.
Elena remembered that night.
Lucia had disappeared at approximately ten.
Returned shortly after one.
Elena pointed.
“This was during the three hours she was gone.”
Adrian's eyes hardened.
“Where did she go?”
“I don't know.”
Madison said, “Because this never happened.”
Elena turned toward her.
“Then why are you scared?”
Madison's composure cracked.
“I'm not scared.”
“You've been scared since he recognized my bracelet.”
Daniel looked between them.
“Madison, if you know something, tell us.”
She stared at her husband.
Something bitter entered her expression.
“You really think these people care about truth?”
“These people?”
She pointed at Adrian.
“You know exactly what his family is.”
Adrian remained motionless.
“And yet you invited me.”
“My father invited you.”
There it was.
Her father.
Charles Whitmore.
Elena had seen him earlier.
Sixty-one.
Real-estate billionaire.
Donor to hospitals, universities, and political campaigns.
His foundation's name appeared on half the charity galas in Manhattan.
Elena suddenly remembered something.
Saint Catherine's.
The clinic had received emergency funding shortly before it closed.
Whitmore Foundation.
She looked at Madison.
“Your father funded the clinic.”
Madison's face went blank.
Adrian turned.
“What?”
Elena pointed at the photograph.
“Saint Catherine's was almost bankrupt. A foundation gave us money.”
“Which foundation?”
“Whitmore.”
Daniel stepped away from his wife.
Madison shook her head.
“That proves nothing.”
“No,” Elena said. “But you being outside the clinic does.”
Adrian called Marcus over.
“Find Charles.”
Marcus left.
Madison moved toward the door.
Adrian blocked her.
“Move.”
“No.”
“This is kidnapping.”
“Call the police.”
She actually reached for her phone.
Then stopped.
Elena noticed.
“Why won't you?”
Madison glared at her.
“Excuse me?”
“If Adrian is illegally holding you here, call 911.”
Nobody spoke.
Madison's thumb hovered above her screen.
She put the phone away.
Elena's suspicion became certainty.
Madison wasn't afraid of Adrian.
She was afraid of police arriving.
Daniel whispered, “What did you do?”
Madison's eyes filled.
“For you.”
He recoiled.
“What?”
“I did everything for you.”
“Madison—”
“You have no idea what my father is capable of.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“Where is Lucia?”
Madison looked at him.
“She isn't dead.”
His expression broke.
Only for a second.
Elena saw hope enter his face.
Then fear.
“You know that?”
Madison closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Adrian grabbed the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles whitened.
“Where?”
“I don't know anymore.”
“Anymore?”
Daniel whispered.
Madison started crying.
“I was twenty-two.”
Elena felt no sympathy yet.
But she listened.
“My father found out Lucia had documents.”
“What documents?”
“Financial records. Property transfers. Shell corporations.”
Adrian frowned.
“My family's?”
“No.”
Madison looked toward Daniel.
“Whitmore Development.”
Daniel sat down.
“My company?”
“Your father's company now. Mine originally.”
Adrian understood first.
“Lucia discovered something involving Charles.”
Madison nodded.
“She was dating someone who worked for my father.”
“Who?”
“I don't know his real name.”
Elena remembered Lucia mentioning a man named Evan.
Never a surname.
Madison continued.
“She found records showing my father was buying condemned buildings through shell companies, collecting insurance, then redeveloping the land.”
Daniel frowned.
“That isn't necessarily illegal.”
“The buildings weren't empty.”
Silence.
Elena felt cold.
“What does that mean?”
Madison wiped her tears.
“Some tenants wouldn't leave.”
Adrian stared at her.
“And?”
“Fires happened.”
Elena stopped breathing.
Daniel whispered, “Jesus.”
Madison continued.
“Lucia had proof that at least two fires were deliberate.”
Adrian's voice became dangerously calm.
“So Charles took her.”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“I don't know. She called me.”
“Why you?”
“Because we knew each other.”
Elena looked at the photograph.
“How?”
“College.”
Adrian frowned.
“Lucia never mentioned you.”
“She wouldn't.”
“Why?”
Madison hesitated.
“We weren't friends.”
“What were you?”
Madison looked at Elena.
“I was the person who helped her escape.”
That changed everything.
Elena stared at her.
“The phone call.”
Madison nodded.
“I called Saint Catherine's because people were looking for her.”
“You threatened me.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You told me to lie.”
“Because if they knew Lucia had been there, everyone who treated her became a target.”
Elena remembered the fear.
The anonymous calls.
The man who followed her home twice.
The clinic suddenly losing funding.
Then closing.
“You got Saint Catherine's shut down?”
“No.”
Madison looked toward the door.
“My father did.”
Adrian's phone rang.
Marcus.
He answered.
“What?”
His face hardened.
“When?”
He disconnected.
“Charles Whitmore left the reception fourteen minutes ago.”
Daniel stood.
“He wouldn't leave my wedding.”
“He did.”
Madison went pale.
Adrian looked at her.
“He knows.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Knows what?”
“That Elena is here.”
Madison suddenly grabbed Elena's arm.
“We have to get her out.”
Adrian stepped between them.
“Why?”
Madison looked at Elena with genuine terror.
“Because my father spent six years making sure every person who knew what happened to Lucia disappeared.”
Elena's mouth went dry.
Adrian's phone buzzed again.
A message.
Marcus had sent a security-camera still.
A black SUV was parked behind the manor.
Beside it stood Charles Whitmore.
And sitting inside the vehicle was a woman with blonde hair.
Adrian enlarged the image.
His hand began trembling.
Elena looked over his shoulder.
She recognized the woman immediately.
Lucia.
The SUV's rear door began to close.
Then another message arrived.
May you like
Three words.
DON'T FOLLOW US.
