Chapter 7 - THE SON WHO NEVER SOLD HIS SHARES
Andrew Vale had been twenty-nine when he disappeared.
Young.
Aggressive.
Smart.
Eleanor remembered him challenging Richard at Thanksgiving.
Always asking why Hawthorne Care paid certain maintenance companies so much.
Richard called him arrogant.
Eleanor told them both to stop arguing.
Now she wondered whether that argument had been about theft.
“How did Andrew own fifteen percent?” Marcus asked.
Thomas answered:
“Your grandfather gave it to him through the Vale trust.”
“Why?”
“Because Andrew helped develop the first assisted-living expansion.”
Eleanor remembered.
Andrew had worked summers for them.
Then full-time.
She had forgotten how involved he was before the family conflict pushed him away.
“If he never sold,” Eleanor said, “where are his distributions?”
Thomas looked at her.
“Diverted.”
“By Richard?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
“Calvin.”
Another betrayal.
Eleanor’s head hurt.
“So Calvin has been moving Andrew’s money for eleven years.”
“Yes.”
“To where?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then why is he helping you?”
Thomas laughed bitterly.
“He wasn’t helping me.”
Eleanor stared.
“He contacted me six months ago because he was scared.”
“Of Brielle?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Thomas looked toward Marcus.
“Someone was asking about Andrew.”
The room went silent.
“Who?”
“A woman.”
“Name?”
“Calvin refused to tell me.”
Marcus said:
“Could it be Brielle?”
Thomas shook his head.
“Calvin knew Brielle.”
“This woman scared him.”
Eleanor felt cold.
“Andrew had a wife?”
“No.”
“Child?”
Thomas hesitated.
Eleanor saw it.
“Thomas.”
He looked away.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Andrew had a relationship before he disappeared.”
“With who?”
“A nurse at one of your facilities.”
Eleanor tried to remember.
“Name.”
“Rachel Dean.”
That name hit her.
Rachel had worked at Hawthorne Care.
Excellent nurse.
Quiet.
She left suddenly around the time Andrew vanished.
“Where did she go?”
“No one knew.”
Marcus frowned.
“What does this matter?”
Thomas looked at him.
“If Rachel had Andrew’s child, that child may now inherit his shares.”
Fifteen percent.
Worth millions.
Enough to influence company control.
Enough to create motive.
Eleanor whispered:
“So someone is searching for an heir.”
“Yes.”
Her phone rang.
Naomi.
Eleanor answered.
“We found Calvin.”
Everyone froze.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“A motel outside Flagstaff.”
“What happened?”
“He checked in under a fake name.”
Thomas swore.
So Calvin ran.
Not kidnapped.
Not yet.
“Police have him?”
“Yes.”
“Is he talking?”
Naomi paused.
“He asked for immunity.”
Thomas laughed.
“Of course.”
Eleanor asked:
“What did he say?”
“He says Brielle is dangerous.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
But Naomi continued.
“And he says Brielle isn’t the person he ran from.”
Eleanor’s pulse increased.
“Who?”
“He won’t say over the phone.”
“Why?”
“He believes your calls are compromised.”
Thomas stood.
“Turn off every device.”
Naomi’s voice continued.
“He gave one name.”
“What?”
“Rachel Dean.”
Eleanor stopped breathing.
“The nurse?”
“Yes.”
“She’s alive?”
Naomi paused.
“She contacted Calvin three weeks ago.”
“Where is she?”
“No idea.”
“What did she want?”
“Proof that Andrew still owns Hawthorne Care shares.”
Thomas went pale.
His lost son.
His missing partner.
The woman Andrew loved.
All resurfacing together.
Eleanor asked:
“Did she say anything about Andrew?”
Naomi’s voice dropped.
“Yes.”
Thomas grabbed the phone.
“What?”
Naomi continued:
“She told Calvin to stop calling Andrew dead.”
Thomas went completely still.
Eleanor whispered:
“What exactly did she say?”
May you like
Naomi repeated it.
“Andrew isn’t dead. He’s been watching Hawthorne Care for years.”
