Chapter 5 - THE DOCTOR WHO DISAPPEARED
The most frightening thing Dominic Vale had ever heard wasn't a threat.
It was Margaret Bell telling him that another man had known his wife was pregnant before she did.
"Explain that," Dominic said.
Margaret sat on the ambulance stretcher outside Terminal 6.
A paramedic had wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.
Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
"Vincent showed me a laboratory report in January."
"January?"
"Yes."
"Claire didn't find out until March."
"I know."
Dominic looked toward Detective Whitcomb.
"Is that even possible?"
Whitcomb answered carefully.
"Someone could have had information about fertility treatment or genetic testing. But we need the records before we know what happened."
Margaret nodded.
"That's what Vincent was talking about. Genetic testing."
Dominic frowned.
"Claire never had fertility treatment."
"Not that I know of."
"Then where did he get the report?"
Margaret lowered her eyes.
"From a clinic connected to your father's estate."
Dominic went still.
His father, Richard Vale, had died seven years earlier.
The official cause was a heart attack.
He had been sixty-four.
Ruthless.
Secretive.
And obsessed with preserving the Vale family name.
Dominic had inherited his businesses, his enemies, and a mountain of debts disguised as corporate investments.
But he had never heard of a fertility clinic.
"What clinic?"
"Northbridge Reproductive Medicine."
"Where?"
"Connecticut."
Dominic looked at Owen.
"Find it."
Owen searched the name.
After several seconds, his expression changed.
"Northbridge closed four years ago."
"Why?"
"Federal investigation. Financial fraud. Improper storage of patient records."
Dominic felt something tighten in his chest.
"Who owned it?"
Owen scrolled.
Then stopped.
"Vale Family Holdings."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Dominic stared at the screen.
His father's investment company.
An entity he had ordered dissolved after the funeral.
Or believed he had.
At Rebecca Sloan's apartment, Claire sat beside the window, watching the lights along the Hudson.
Her phone had been silent for almost an hour.
That frightened her more than the messages.
At least when the threats arrived, she knew the enemy was still watching.
Now she had no idea what was happening.
Rebecca entered carrying a cup of tea.
"I made this myself," she said.
Claire looked at the cup.
Rebecca noticed her hesitation.
"After what we learned, I don't blame you for being careful."
Claire accepted it.
"Did Dominic call?"
"Margaret's alive."
Claire covered her mouth.
"Thank God."
"She's being treated for minor injuries. The detectives are taking her statement."
Claire nodded.
Then she began crying.
Not loudly.
Just quiet tears she couldn't stop.
Rebecca sat beside her.
"You've been carrying too much alone."
Claire wiped her cheeks.
"I thought if I disappeared, they'd leave everyone else alone."
"Who told you that?"
Claire hesitated.
"The woman who called me."
Rebecca straightened.
"You spoke to her?"
"Once."
"When?"
"Three weeks ago."
"What did she say?"
Claire stared into her tea.
"She said Dominic would never let me leave if he knew about the baby."
"Did you recognize her voice?"
"No."
"Anything unusual?"
Claire thought carefully.
"She sounded older. Maybe fifty. She was very calm."
Rebecca waited.
"She said something else."
"What?"
Claire's voice dropped.
"She said, 'I know what it's like to lose a child to the Vale family.'"
Rebecca's expression changed.
"Are you certain?"
Claire nodded.
"Those exact words."
Rebecca stood.
"Claire, I need to make a phone call."
"Why?"
But Rebecca was already moving toward the hallway.
Dominic returned to Manhattan shortly after midnight.
Claire was awake.
When he entered the living room, she stood immediately.
"Margaret?"
"She's safe."
Claire exhaled.
Dominic remained near the doorway.
He didn't approach her.
"Rebecca says you spoke to a woman."
Claire nodded.
"Three weeks ago."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She gave him a tired look.
"Because every time I tried to tell you something was wrong, Vincent told me you were too busy."
Dominic closed his eyes.
"He intercepted your calls?"
"Sometimes."
"How many?"
"I stopped counting."
Dominic looked toward the floor.
He remembered the arguments.
The missed dinners.
The occasions when Vincent claimed Claire was becoming emotional and unreasonable.
He had believed him.
Because Vincent was efficient.
Because Vincent never raised his voice.
Because Vincent always had an explanation.
And because trusting Vincent had been easier than confronting the possibility that his wife was suffering.
"I'm going to tell you something," Dominic said.
Claire waited.
"I've spent years convincing myself that providing for you meant protecting you."
He swallowed.
"But I gave another man control over our home. Our security. Even our conversations."
Claire said nothing.
"I failed you."
Her eyes filled.
"Yes," she whispered. "You did."
Dominic accepted it.
He didn't defend himself.
Didn't offer excuses.
For the first time, Claire felt as though he was listening.
The next morning, Detective Whitcomb arrived with a sealed folder.
"We found Dr. Adrian Keller."
Dominic leaned forward.
"Where?"
"His medical license was suspended three years ago. He's been living under a different surname in Pennsylvania."
"Can we question him?"
"We already have."
Whitcomb opened the folder.
"Keller admits that Vincent paid him to perform unauthorized genetic testing on Claire."
Claire's hand flew to her stomach.
"Why?"
Whitcomb hesitated.
"According to Keller, your blood sample was compared against a hereditary condition identified in the Vale family."
Dominic frowned.
"What condition?"
"Keller wouldn't explain. He requested an attorney."
Claire looked between them.
"Did he say anything about my baby?"
Whitcomb nodded.
"He said the pregnancy was considered a 'successful match.'"
Claire went pale.
"A match for what?"
"That's what we're trying to determine."
Whitcomb placed another document on the table.
"There's something else."
It was a photograph.
A younger Richard Vale stood outside Northbridge Reproductive Medicine.
Beside him was a woman in a white laboratory coat.
Dominic recognized his father immediately.
But the woman was unfamiliar.
"Who is she?"
Whitcomb turned the photograph over.
"Dr. Evelyn Cross. Geneticist. Former medical director."
Rebecca, standing near the kitchen, dropped her coffee cup.
It shattered against the floor.
Everyone turned.
Rebecca's face had gone white.
"Rebecca?" Claire asked.
The attorney stared at the photograph.
"Where did you get that?"
Whitcomb answered.
"From Keller's records."
Rebecca slowly sat down.
Dominic watched her.
"You know this woman."
Rebecca nodded.
"Yes."
"Who is she?"
Rebecca looked at Claire.
Then at her stomach.
"Twenty-eight years ago, Evelyn Cross came to me because she believed Richard Vale had stolen something from her."
Dominic frowned.
"What?"
Rebecca's eyes filled with tears.
"Her newborn daughter."
Claire felt the room tilt.
Rebecca continued.
"The child disappeared from the hospital before Evelyn was allowed to hold her."
Dominic stared at the photograph.
"Why are you telling us this?"
Rebecca looked directly at Claire.
"Because Evelyn's daughter was born on October seventeenth."
Claire stopped breathing.
That was her birthday.
May you like
Rebecca's next words were barely audible.
"Claire, I think we need to find out who your biological mother really is."
