Chapter 2 - THE CAR WITH NO DRIVER
Marcus Bell had lied to Adrian Cole exactly once.
It lasted eleven seconds.
He never forgot them.
At 12:19 a.m., Marcus stood beside Claire's abandoned Mercedes while snow drifted through the amber emergency lights.
Adrian faced him across the hood.
"Where did you take her this morning?"
Marcus's jaw tightened.
"I can't tell you."
Adrian went perfectly still.
Around them, six security men suddenly became fascinated by the frozen road.
Adrian did not shout.
That made Marcus more nervous.
"Try that answer again."
"She asked me not to tell you."
"My pregnant wife is missing."
"I know."
"You knew she was pregnant?"
"No."
That answer, at least, was true.
Adrian stepped closer.
Marcus had seen him terrify men twice his size with less movement.
"Where?"
"A clinic near Beacon Hill."
Adrian's eyes closed.
For perhaps two seconds.
When they opened again, the fury had disappeared.
Something worse had replaced it.
Regret.
"Was she alone?"
"Yes."
The word landed hard.
Adrian looked at the ultrasound photograph in his hand.
His wife had heard their child's heartbeat alone.
Because she had chosen to.
Or because he had taught her she had to.
Adrian turned toward the car.
The driver's door had been left open when his security team found it. Claire's purse was gone. Her phone was gone. There was no blood, no broken glass, no sign of a struggle.
But something felt wrong.
"She planned to leave me," Adrian said.
Marcus said nothing.
"Did she?"
"That's not my story to tell."
Adrian looked at him sharply.
"You're becoming brave tonight."
"No, sir."
Marcus met his eyes.
"I'm becoming tired."
Adrian almost struck him.
Not because Marcus had threatened him.
Because the words sounded like Claire.
Tired.
That was what she had said three months earlier when Adrian arrived home at 2:00 a.m. after missing their anniversary dinner.
"I'm tired, Adrian."
He had kissed her forehead and promised to make it up to her.
He never had.
A black SUV approached.
Security chief Owen Price climbed out before it fully stopped.
"We found something."
He handed Adrian a tablet.
Traffic footage.
At 9:41 p.m., Claire's Mercedes turned onto the service road.
At 9:44, another vehicle followed.
Black Range Rover.
No visible plate.
At 9:52, the Range Rover drove away.
Claire's Mercedes remained.
Adrian's stomach turned cold.
"Zoom in."
Owen did.
A figure could be seen stepping from Claire's car.
Female.
Claire.
She was walking.
Not being dragged.
She carried her suitcase.
Another figure emerged from the Range Rover.
A woman in a dark coat.
Claire walked toward her willingly.
Adrian stared.
"Who is she?"
"We're working on it."
Marcus leaned toward the screen.
Then froze.
Adrian noticed.
"You recognize her."
"No."
"Marcus."
Marcus looked trapped.
Adrian grabbed his coat.
"Who?"
Marcus finally answered.
"Vanessa Reed."
Silence.
Adrian looked again.
The woman waiting beside the Range Rover was indeed Vanessa.
His financial consultant.
The woman Claire believed was his mistress.
The woman whose photograph Claire had found.
"Call her."
Owen dialed.
Disconnected.
Again.
Nothing.
Adrian took out his own phone.
Vanessa's number went directly to voicemail.
He called another number.
A man answered immediately.
"Mr. Cole?"
"Lock down every airport, train station, private terminal, and harbor route you can legally monitor."
"Yes, sir."
"And find Vanessa Reed."
Adrian ended the call.
Marcus watched him.
"Maybe Claire went willingly."
"With Vanessa?"
"Maybe there's something you don't know."
Adrian laughed once.
It contained no humor.
"There are apparently a lot of things I don't know."
He opened Claire's separation papers.
His eyes moved across the first page.
Petitioner: Claire Morgan Cole.
Respondent: Adrian James Cole.
His hand tightened.
Then he noticed handwriting on the final page.
Not Claire's.
Three words written faintly in blue ink.
DON'T TRUST OWEN.
Adrian stopped breathing.
Owen stood ten feet away.
His security chief for seven years.
The man currently coordinating the search for Claire.
Adrian closed the folder.
Slowly.
He looked toward Owen.
"Anything else?"
Owen shook his head.
"We're checking Vanessa's apartment."
"Good."
Adrian slipped the papers beneath his coat.
"Keep searching."
He walked back toward his SUV.
Marcus followed.
Only after the doors closed did Adrian speak.
"Drive."
"Where?"
"Anywhere Owen isn't."
Marcus pulled away.
Adrian opened the papers again.
DON'T TRUST OWEN.
He studied the writing.
"That's Vanessa's handwriting."
Marcus glanced at him.
"You know that?"
"I've seen enough of her reports."
"Then why put it inside Claire's papers?"
Adrian stared into the darkness.
Because Vanessa knew Claire was leaving.
Because Vanessa had helped her.
Or because Vanessa had needed Claire to run.
His phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One photograph.
Claire.
She was sitting in what looked like a basement room, pale and frightened, one hand over her stomach.
Underneath were seven words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LET YOUR WIFE LEAVE.
Then a second message appeared.
NOW YOU GET TO LOSE HER TWICE.
Adrian's face emptied of emotion.
Marcus saw the screen.
"Jesus."
Adrian called the number.
Disconnected.
Marcus gripped the steering wheel.
"What do we do?"
Adrian looked again at Claire's frightened face.
Then at the tiny ultrasound photograph still clenched in his hand.
"We find out who inside my house sold my wife."
May you like
His gaze hardened.
"And we start with Owen."
