Chapter 4 - THE ROAD THAT KILLED TWO MEN
Hayes’s car went through a guardrail at 3:51 a.m.
Exactly forty minutes after Megan stopped him from injecting me again.
Coincidence was becoming insulting.
Police said the brake line had been cut.
That made it murder.
Marcus did not say the word.
He didn’t need to.
I looked at Megan.
“Your mother ever mention Hayes?”
Her face tightened.
“Yes.”
That surprised everyone.
“When?”
“Before she died.”
“What did she say?”
“She said never trust a doctor who looks at charts before patients.”
I stared.
“That’s all?”
“No.”
Megan swallowed.
“She said Warren Hayes once ruined a family.”
My chest tightened.
“Mine.”
“Maybe.”
Nancy remembered something.
Claire had disappeared for three days after the crash.
When she returned, she was bruised.
Refused to explain.
Then resigned.
Megan stared at Nancy.
“My mother had a scar on her shoulder.”
Nancy looked at her.
“Gunshot?”
Megan went pale.
“I always thought surgery.”
No.
Claire had been shot.
Likely because she knew.
Marcus opened another recovered file from Hayes’s car.
A printed list.
Three names.
Dominic Mason.
Megan Foster.
Nancy Price.
All circled.
Below:
Resolve before Friday.
Megan looked at me.
“Resolve?”
Marcus answered:
“Kill.”
I hated hearing him say it around her.
But truth mattered.
Then a fourth name appeared.
Smaller.
Handwritten.
Noah Foster.
Megan’s entire body changed.
Not fear.
Something stronger.
“Why my son?”
I looked at the pendant.
Claire.
My father.
The hidden evidence.
Maybe Noah carried more.
Megan immediately checked the diaper bag.
Nothing.
Clothes.
Bottle.
Snacks.
Toy truck.
Yellow blanket.
Then Nancy noticed stitching on the blanket.
One corner looked newer.
Megan frowned.
“My mother made this.”
“Open it.”
She hesitated.
Then used scissors.
Inside the hem:
A brass key.
Tiny.
Old.
A paper tag attached.
MASON TRUST - BOX 17
I stopped breathing.
My father maintained a private trust vault.
Box 17 had supposedly been emptied after his death.
Apparently not.
We contacted the bank through attorneys.
The box still existed.
Registered jointly to:
My father.
Claire Delaney.
And one future beneficiary.
MEGAN CLAIRE FOSTER.
Megan sat down hard.
“My mother put me on a Mason trust?”
“No.”
I looked at the original registration.
“My father did.”
She stared at me.
“Why?”
I didn’t know.
Then Nancy whispered:
“Dominic.”
“What?”
She looked between Megan and me.
“Claire wasn’t only your father’s nurse.”
Megan’s face changed.
Nancy continued:
“She was his witness.”
“Witness to what?”
“The night before the crash.”
May you like
My pulse slowed.
“She saw Elliot poison him.”
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