Chapter 10 - THE BABY WAS NEVER THE FIRST TARGET
The abandoned house outside Gloucester sat less than fifty yards from the Atlantic.
Rain had stopped.
Fog replaced it.
Michael arrived with Emily and Frank despite Thomas’s demand that he come alone.
Police remained two miles away.
Michael did not trust Thomas.
He also no longer trusted enough people to choose who should lead the rescue.
The front door stood open.
Inside, a single lamp burned.
Victoria sat exactly as she had in the photograph.
Edward beside her.
Thomas Miller stood near the window.
Sixty.
Maybe older.
Same shoulders as Frank.
Same eyes.
Frank stopped breathing.
“Tom.”
Thomas smiled.
“Frankie.”
Frank raised his gun.
“Give me a reason.”
Thomas looked almost amused.
“You always were loyal to the wrong Carter.”
Michael stepped forward.
“Who ordered the poison?”
Thomas looked at Emily.
“Your maid already knows half the answer.”
“No, I don’t.”
Thomas nodded toward the missing mattress.
“The compound inside that blanket came from old Carter Residential stock.”
Emily’s face hardened.
“The same kind used at Barlow Street.”
“Yes.”
“You killed my brother.”
Thomas’s smile disappeared.
“No.”
“You owned the company.”
“I covered the company.”
“That isn’t better.”
“No.”
For once, he did not pretend it was.
Michael pointed toward Victoria.
“Did she hire you?”
Thomas looked at Victoria.
She shook her head frantically.
“No.”
Edward shouted:
“Michael, don’t listen to him.”
Thomas laughed.
“Still giving orders.”
Michael stepped closer.
“Answer.”
Thomas pulled a recorder from his pocket.
Pressed play.
Edward’s voice filled the room.
Recent.
Clear.
“The child cannot reach his first birthday with those shares intact.”
Michael stopped breathing.
Victoria closed her eyes.
Edward shouted:
“That recording is manipulated!”
Thomas kept playing.
Edward:
“Make it look medical. No scandal. No investigation that reaches the trust.”
Michael stared at his father.
Something inside him died very quietly.
Thomas stopped the recording.
Emily whispered:
“He ordered Noah’s death.”
Edward struggled against the rope.
“No!”
Michael did not look at him.
Thomas continued:
“That is what I was supposed to believe.”
Michael turned.
“What?”
Thomas smiled.
“I record everyone.”
He pressed play again.
Another voice.
Frank.
“I need the same compound from Barlow Street.”
Everyone froze.
Frank went white.
Emily stepped backward.
Michael slowly looked at him.
“No.”
Frank’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
The recording continued.
Frank:
“Small quantity. Enough to create respiratory collapse.”
Emily’s face emptied.
Michael’s voice dropped.
“Frank.”
Frank shook his head.
“I can explain.”
“Explain.”
“I was building evidence.”
Thomas laughed.
“You ordered poison.”
“For a controlled test.”
“On what?”
“Fabric.”
Michael grabbed Frank by the jacket.
“Did you bring poison into my house?”
“No!”
“THEN WHY DOES HE HAVE YOUR VOICE?”
Frank’s face broke.
“Olivia asked me to investigate whether the old Barlow compound could explain Daniel’s death.”
Emily stared.
“My brother?”
“Daniel believed Thomas was using the same stock to intimidate witnesses.”
“So you sourced it.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Ten months ago.”
“Where did you keep it?”
Frank went silent.
Michael understood.
“At the mansion.”
Frank whispered:
“In a sealed evidence locker.”
Michael released him.
Someone had not needed Thomas to poison Noah.
They had stolen the compound from Frank.
Thomas nodded.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Victoria shouted:
“Michael, Dad didn’t send the blanket!”
Edward stared at her.
“Shut up.”
She laughed bitterly.
“There. Still protecting yourself.”
Michael looked at his father.
“Is the recording real?”
Edward said nothing.
“DAD.”
“Yes.”
One word.
Emily covered her mouth.
Michael felt his heart become stone.
“But I canceled it.”
Michael stared.
“What?”
“I ordered Thomas to arrange Noah’s death.”
Edward began crying.
Michael had never seen his father cry.
“Then I changed my mind.”
Thomas nodded.
“He did.”
Michael looked at him.
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
Edward shouted:
“I told him it was over!”
Michael could barely process it.
His father had ordered his grandson’s murder.
Then canceled it.
Yet someone had executed the plan anyway.
“Who knew?”
Thomas answered:
“Four people.”
“Names.”
“Me. Edward. Dr. Vale.”
A pause.
“And one other person.”
“Who?”
Thomas looked toward Victoria.
Michael followed his eyes.
Victoria shook her head.
“Not me.”
Thomas smiled.
“I know.”
Michael froze.
“Then who?”
A noise came from upstairs.
A floorboard.
Emily turned.
Frank raised his gun.
Thomas did not react.
He had expected it.
A woman walked slowly down the staircase.
Margaret Collins.
Noah’s nanny.
Michael stared.
She was supposed to be under police protection.
Margaret stopped on the bottom stair.
No tears now.
No shaking.
No terrified nanny.
“Hello, Michael.”
His blood turned cold.
“You.”
She looked toward Edward.
“For thirty-one years, that man has been deciding which Carter children mattered.”
Edward whispered:
“Margaret, don’t.”
Michael frowned.
Thirty-one years?
Margaret had worked for him only six.
Thomas stepped aside.
“She isn’t Margaret Collins.”
The woman smiled.
“My name is Margaret Vale.”
Simon Vale’s younger sister.
Michael stared.
Then she said:
“And Noah was not the first Carter baby Edward ordered removed.”
The room went silent.
Victoria started crying.
Real crying.
“No.”
Margaret looked at her.
“Yes.”
Michael’s voice barely worked.
“What baby?”
Margaret opened her coat and removed an old photograph.
A newborn boy.
Hospital blanket.
Date stamped thirty-eight years earlier.
Edward went gray.
Michael stared at the date.
The same year he was born.
Margaret looked directly at him.
“Your mother gave birth to twins.”
Michael stopped breathing.
“No.”
“Edward kept the stronger baby.”
Emily covered her mouth.
Frank whispered:
“Jesus.”
Margaret continued.
“The other boy had a heart defect. Edward believed a sick heir would weaken the family.”
Michael looked at his father.
Edward could not meet his eyes.
“What happened to him?”
Margaret smiled sadly.
“Dr. Vale helped another family take him.”
“Who?”
Thomas Miller began laughing quietly.
Michael turned toward him.
Thomas looked almost emotional.
Then Michael understood why Frank and Thomas had never looked entirely alike.
Why Thomas had access to Carter secrets no security man should have possessed.
Why Edward had paid him millions.
Why his grandfather had personally placed Frank beside Michael when they were young.
Michael whispered:
“Thomas.”
Thomas’s smile disappeared.
Margaret shook her head.
“Not Thomas.”
Everyone froze.
She looked toward Frank.
Frank stopped breathing.
“No.”
Margaret nodded.
“Frank Miller was born Frank Carter.”
Michael stared at the man who had guarded him for twenty-seven years.
His oldest lieutenant.
His closest friend.
His twin brother.
Frank backed into the wall.
“That’s impossible.”
Margaret handed him the photograph.
On the back was a hospital identification number.
Frank’s hands shook violently.
Michael could barely stand.
Edward whispered:
“I was trying to protect the family.”
Michael looked at him.
That sentence.
Again.
Always.
Then Emily’s phone rang.
Mass General.
She answered.
Her face changed.
“What?”
Michael grabbed her arm.
“Noah?”
Emily listened.
Then looked at him.
“He’s awake.”
Michael nearly collapsed.
Alive.
His son was alive.
But the nurse continued speaking.
Emily’s relief vanished.
“What do you mean?”
Silence.
Then:
“No. Don’t let anyone leave.”
Michael’s heartbeat stopped again.
“What happened?”
Emily lowered the phone.
“The hospital repeated the toxicology testing.”
“So?”
“The exposure didn’t begin tonight.”
Nobody spoke.
Emily’s face went pale.
“They found evidence Noah had been receiving tiny exposures for weeks.”
Michael looked toward Margaret.
She smiled.
Then shook her head.
“Not me.”
“YOU WERE HIS NANNY.”
“Yes.”
“And you expect me to believe—”
“I was watching him because I knew someone had started.”
Michael froze.
“You knew?”
“I knew someone inside your house was testing doses.”
“Who?”
Margaret looked toward the doorway.
A shadow moved outside.
Police lights appeared through the fog.
Thomas smiled.
“Looks like our final guest is here.”
A black sedan stopped beside Michael’s SUV.
The driver’s door opened.
Dr. Simon Vale stepped out.
Then the rear door opened.
A woman emerged.
Michael’s entire body went numb.
Dark hair.
Black coat.
A scar near her left temple.
Emily whispered:
“Who is that?”
Michael could not answer.
Because he knew that face.
He had kissed it the morning she supposedly died.
He had buried an empty casket beneath her name.
And he had spent eight months grieving her.
Olivia Carter looked through the window directly at her husband.
Alive.
She lifted one hand.
Then Michael’s phone received a message.
FROM OLIVIA.
DON’T LET MARGARET NEAR NOAH.
Michael looked at Margaret.
Margaret looked at Olivia outside.
Neither woman seemed surprised the other was alive.
The second message arrived.
AND WHATEVER EDWARD TOLD YOU, DO NOT TRUST THE DNA TEST ON FRANK.
Michael slowly turned toward the man who might be his twin brother.
Then the third message appeared.
NOAH WASN’T POISONED BECAUSE OF THE TRUST.
Michael’s hands began shaking.
May you like
One final line filled the screen:
THEY WERE TRYING TO FIND OUT WHAT HE INHERITED FROM YOU.
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