Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN WHO STOLE A LIFE
Savannah read the message three times.
Ethan watched the color drain from her face.
“What is it?”
She handed him the phone.
He read the words, then immediately called Daniel.
“Trace this number.”
Daniel answered within seconds.
“Give me five minutes.”
Savannah paced beside the car.
“If someone hurt my mother, I swear—”
Ethan gently caught her hand.
“We need proof.”
She pulled away.
“Proof? My mother is trapped in a rehabilitation center while Linda lives in our house!”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t!”
Her voice echoed through the garage.
“You don’t know what it feels like to watch someone steal your family while everybody else pretends nothing happened.”
Ethan’s expression darkened.
“I watched my father’s coffin go into the ground when I was seventeen.”
Savannah stopped.
He continued.
“I spent twenty years wondering whether someone murdered him. So yes, Savannah. I understand more than you think.”
Silence settled between them.
Finally, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Ethan shook his head.
“Don’t apologize for being angry.”
Daniel called back.
“The message came from a prepaid phone. But I found something else.”
“What?”
“Margaret Reed’s medical records were accessed by a private physician named Dr. Martin Hale.”
Savannah frowned.
“That’s not her doctor.”
“Exactly,” Daniel said. “And Hale received two hundred thousand dollars from a Whitmore consulting account three days before Margaret’s stroke.”
Savannah felt sick.
They drove directly to the rehabilitation facility.
Margaret was asleep when they arrived.
Savannah sat beside her and whispered, “Mom, did Linda do this to you?”
Margaret’s eyes opened.
She stared at Ethan.
Her breathing changed.
Then she grabbed Savannah’s hand.
“Cole.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“You knew my father?”
Margaret began crying.
“Thomas... tried... to help.”
Ethan’s face went pale.
“Help with what?”
Margaret struggled to speak.
“Linda... Richard... money.”
Savannah leaned closer.
“Mom, where is Dad?”
Margaret’s lips trembled.
“Not... dead.”
Savannah gripped the bedrail.
“Where is he?”
Margaret closed her eyes, gathering strength.
Then she whispered a single word.
“Blackstone.”
Ethan immediately recognized it.
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Blackstone was the name of a private psychiatric facility outside Santa Fe.
And according to Daniel’s investigation, Linda Whitmore had been paying its bills for seventeen years.
