Chapter 7
The gun clicked.
Empty.
My father struck it from Catherine’s hand.
Federal agents surrounded her.
She did not fight.
She simply stared at Ryan lying on the ground.
The bullet had entered his shoulder.
He was alive.
Paramedics treated him while officers placed Catherine in handcuffs.
Lily buried her face against me.
“Is Daddy dead?”
“No.”
I did not know whether that answer comforted or frightened her.
Ryan looked toward us as they lifted him onto a stretcher.
“Emily.”
I stayed where I was.
“Please.”
“You threatened our daughter.”
“I was trying to get us out.”
“You brought her here.”
“Catherine took her.”
“You helped her.”
“I didn’t know about the gas.”
“That does not make you innocent.”
His face twisted in pain.
“She shot me.”
“You are surprised that someone you betrayed turned on you?”
He reached toward Lily.
She moved behind me.
That hurt him more than the bullet.
The paramedics carried him away.
Catherine stood beside a federal vehicle.
My father approached her.
I expected anger.
Instead, he looked unbearably sad.
“Why didn’t you come home?”
She laughed softly.
“There was no home after Richard.”
“You had Emily.”
“You had Emily.”
“She needed you.”
“You wanted me to return and become the frightened woman you remembered.”
“I wanted you alive.”
“I became more than alive.”
“You became a criminal.”
Her eyes hardened.
“I became powerful.”
“And look at what that power cost.”
Catherine glanced at me.
For one second, I saw my mother.
Then it vanished.
“You raised her to hate me.”
My father shook his head.
“She spent twenty years missing you.”
Agents placed Catherine in the vehicle.
Before the door closed, she spoke to me.
“You think Charles is innocent. Ask him who signed the order that put me in Richard’s hands.”
The door slammed.
I turned toward my father.
“What order?”
He looked confused.
“I don’t know.”
Madeline stepped closer.
“The federal protection transfer.”
My father’s face changed.
“When Catherine first agreed to testify, someone changed her relocation destination,” Madeline said. “The document carried Charles’s signature.”
“I never signed it,” he said.
“Then someone forged it.”
“Who had access?” I asked.
He looked toward the ambulance carrying Ryan.
“Margaret.”
Margaret had worked as my father’s legal secretary before marrying Thomas Carter.
That was how she met Richard.
She had access to Charles’s signatures, schedules, and private files.
Ryan’s mother had helped make Catherine disappear.
Margaret had known every secret from the beginning.
We drove directly to the federal detention center where she was being held.
Naomi questioned her while my father and I watched from behind the glass.
Margaret entered the room smiling.
“Did Catherine survive?”
Naomi ignored the question.
She placed a copy of the transfer order on the table.
“Did you forge Charles Whitmore’s signature?”
Margaret looked at it.
“That was a long time ago.”
“A woman lost twenty years of her life.”
“Catherine made the most of them.”
“Answer the question.”
Margaret leaned back.
“Richard promised he would leave his wife and marry me.”
“So you gave him Catherine.”
“I changed one address.”
“You handed her to criminals.”
“She was going to expose the foundation.”
“Why protect Richard?”
“Because Ryan deserved a father.”
Naomi placed another photograph on the table.
It showed Thomas Carter standing beside Richard.
“Your husband knew about the affair.”
Margaret’s smile disappeared.
“He discovered it after Ryan was born,” Naomi said. “He did not expose you. He raised Ryan as his own.”
“Thomas was weak.”
“He died in a boating accident when Ryan was seventeen.”
Margaret said nothing.
“Was it an accident?” Naomi asked.
Margaret looked directly at the observation window.
She knew we were there.
“Ask Charles.”
My father entered the interrogation room before anyone could stop him.
“What are you accusing me of now?”
Margaret smiled.
“Thomas came to you the week before he died.”
“Yes. He told me Richard had threatened Catherine.”
“He also told you where Richard’s boat would be.”
“I informed the police.”
“But Richard was not on the boat that night. Thomas was.”
My father stared at her.
“You told me Richard would be there.”
“And you sent men to stop him.”
Naomi stood.
“What men?”
My father’s voice became quiet.
“Private investigators.”
“Armed investigators?”
“I told them to detain Richard until police arrived.”
“But they found Thomas,” Margaret said. “And Thomas never came home.”
My father shook his head.
“They said the boat was empty.”
“They lied.”
Another old crime had surfaced.
My father might have caused Thomas Carter’s death while trying to rescue Catherine.
Ryan had grown up believing Charles murdered the man who raised him.
That explained his hatred.
It did not excuse it.
But it explained the depth of it.
“Who were the investigators?” Naomi asked.
My father named two men.
One was dead.
The other was Vincent Hale.
The man who had shot at us outside the motel.
Vincent had worked for Richard, then Catherine, then Ryan.
He had been inside every part of the conspiracy.
Naomi ordered an immediate search for him.
At the hospital, doctors treated Lily for minor gas exposure.
She refused to sleep unless I stayed beside her.
Madeline sat near the window.
My father stood in the hallway speaking with federal agents.
“Is Grandpa going to jail?” Lily asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Is Daddy?”
“Yes.”
She became quiet.
“Is Grandma Catherine bad?”
I searched for the right words.
“She made choices that hurt people.”
“Did she hurt you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still love her?”
The question cut through every simple answer.
“I love the mother I hoped she was.”
Lily looked down.
“I still love Daddy sometimes.”
“You are allowed to.”
“Even if he’s bad?”
“You can love someone and still need to be safe from them.”
Madeline turned toward us.
Her eyes were wet.
She had spent twelve years trying to decide whether loving Ryan made her responsible for his actions.
Perhaps my words were for both of them.
A nurse entered with an envelope.
“This was delivered for Mrs. Carter.”
There was no return address.
Inside was a photograph of Lily leaving school two months earlier.
A red circle had been drawn around her face.
On the back were four words.
RYAN WAS NEVER THE TARGET.
Madeline took the photograph.
“This is Vincent’s handwriting.”
My phone rang.
A distorted voice said, “Bring Catherine’s drive to Navy Pier at midnight.”
“Vincent?”
“Come alone.”
“What do you want with Lily?”
“Nothing, if you listen.”
“You already have the drive.”
“The copy Catherine took was incomplete.”
“I don’t have the original.”
“Madeline does.”
I looked at my sister.
She shook her head.
The voice continued.
“Bring the original, or your daughter learns what happened to Thomas Carter.”
The call ended.
Lily had heard enough to become frightened.
“Who was that?”
“No one you need to worry about.”
She looked at me.
“Don’t lie like Daddy.”
I took her hand.
“You’re right. A dangerous man wants something from us.”
“Are you going?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“I won’t go alone.”
Madeline stepped forward.
“Yes, you will.”
May you like
She reached inside her coat and removed the original drive.
“I’ll be waiting before you get there.”
