Chapter 8 - The Name Written in the Record
“Mother: Grace Romano.”
I read the line again, hoping the letters would rearrange themselves into something that made sense.
Grace had been a child when Daniel disappeared. She hadn't even met me yet.
“This is a lie,” I said.
Daniel took the record from my hand.
“Someone wants you to believe it.”
“Vanessa said Father hid you because you knew who the other child was.”
“Vanessa says whatever keeps people moving in the direction she wants.”
The two men beside the sedan remained motionless. One held the black case. The other had his phone raised, recording us.
I turned toward them.
“Who sent you?”
Neither answered.
Daniel grabbed my sleeve.
“Forget them. We need to leave.”
“I want answers.”
“And I want to stay alive long enough to get them.”
He was right. I hated that he was right, but I followed him through a side exit and into a narrow service lane behind the terminal. We walked several blocks before he stopped beside a battered pickup truck.
“Get in.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can talk without an audience.”
I hesitated.
Daniel's expression hardened.
“You came here asking me to trust you. Don't make me regret giving you a chance.”
I climbed into the passenger seat.
He drove us to a small apartment above a closed bakery in Brooklyn. The place was sparse, with secondhand furniture and a single bookshelf. There were no family photographs, no expensive watches, no signs of the life I had spent twenty years believing my brother had lost.
He placed the clinic record on the kitchen table.
“Look at the paper,” he said.
I examined it more carefully. The record had two different kinds of ink. The original entry was faded, while the line naming Grace appeared darker.
“This was altered.”
“Recently, I think.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Not yet.”
He opened a drawer and removed another document. It was a photocopy of an old hospital ledger, with the same clinic's name at the top.
“Your father paid the clinic to preserve records for a private medical case. I found the ledger after the woman who raised me died. She had kept a box of letters and receipts. Most of them were useless, but this one had a reference number.”
He pointed to a line.
The number matched the reference on the record I'd found in the safe-deposit box.
“What was the private medical case?”
“I don't know. The clinic closed years ago. Its records were transferred to a medical archive in Albany.”
“Then we'll get them.”
Daniel gave me a hard look.
“You still think everything can be solved by sending someone with a checkbook.”
“I have other ways.”
“That's what worries me.”
I leaned back, forcing myself to remain calm.
“Tell me what you know about Vanessa.”
Daniel sat opposite me.
“She contacted me six weeks ago.”
I stared at him.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know whether she was working for you, against you, or for someone else entirely. She claimed she had evidence that your father had diverted trust money to hide a child.”
“Did she give you anything?”
He nodded.
“A list of transfers. Several went to a private security firm. Others went to a medical foundation. The foundation's name changed three times, but the account numbers stayed the same.”
“Who controlled it?”
“The records point to a lawyer named Arthur Vale.”
The name from my father's recording.
I felt the old fear return.
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Ten years ago. Supposedly.”
I looked at him.
“Supposedly?”
“The death certificate was filed, but there's no burial record. The cemetery has no grave. When I asked the clerk to check the archive, the file had been sealed.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Everyone in this family seems to disappear.”
“Maybe because people like Father believed that if you controlled the records, you controlled the truth.”
I looked again at the altered clinic entry.
“Why would someone write Grace's name here?”
“To make you distrust her.”
“Or to make me think she's connected to the child.”
“Either way, the result is the same. You stop asking who altered the record and start asking what your wife is hiding.”
I thought about the photograph from Chicago, the forged transfer, and Vanessa's sudden confession.
For eleven months, I'd allowed Vanessa to tell me what I wanted to hear. Now I was beginning to suspect that she'd never wanted me for myself at all.
“Why did she send those men?” I asked.
“Because she wants the original document. The black case they carried probably contained something she was willing to trade for it.”
“Then we find her.”
“No.”
I turned sharply.
“No?”
“You want to chase Vanessa because she humiliated you and lied to you. I want to find the child your father spent years concealing. Those aren't necessarily the same investigation.”
I stared at my brother.
“You sound like Grace.”
“Maybe that's why she trusted me.”
The words stung, but I didn't argue.
Instead, I called Anthony and told him to locate Arthur Vale's legal records, trace the foundation accounts, and find out who had accessed the clinic archive in the last six months.
Then I did something I hadn't done in years.
I asked rather than ordered.
“Can you help me?”
Anthony was silent for a moment.
“Yes, Boss.”
When I hung up, Daniel watched me carefully.
“Was that difficult?”
“Very.”
“Good. Maybe you're finally learning.”
That evening, Grace's attorney called.
“Mr. Romano, Mrs. Romano has asked me to pass along a message.”
“Is she all right?”
“She is safe.”
“And Lily?”
“Your daughter is responding to treatment. Her doctors are cautiously optimistic.”
I closed my eyes in relief.
“What does Grace want?”
“She wants you to stop investigating her.”
“I haven't been investigating her.”
“Your security chief contacted the hospital about her medical authorization. Two men were seen outside a temporary residence where she had been staying. She believes you're trying to locate her.”
I looked at Daniel.
He shook his head, silently warning me not to make excuses.
“Tell Grace I'm sorry,” I said.
“Would you like me to tell her anything else?”
“Yes. Tell her I found Daniel.”
The attorney paused.
“She knows.”
“How?”
“She asked me to tell you that if Daniel has agreed to help, you should listen to him. She also said you must not let Vanessa get access to the original clinic records.”
My stomach tightened.
“Does Grace know what the records contain?”
“I don't know. She didn't explain.”
The call ended.
Daniel stood and walked to the window.
“She knew I was going to meet you.”
“Apparently.”
“And she knew Vanessa would try to stop us.”
I picked up the altered record.
“Then Grace knows more than she's telling me.”
“Maybe. Or maybe she understands Vanessa better than either of us.”
I was about to answer when Anthony called back.
“We found something,” he said. “The archive's access log shows that someone requested the original clinic ledger three days before Lily was born.”
“Who?”
“The request was submitted under a trustee authorization. It was approved using the same digital credentials that authorized the eight-million-dollar transfer.”
“Can you trace the login?”
“We did.”
He hesitated.
“Boss, the credentials were used from your private office.”
My eyes moved toward the empty doorway, as if the office itself had become a witness.
“Who was there?”
“The security system shows only one person entering the room that night.”
“Who?”
May you like
Anthony took a breath.
“Thomas Reed.”
