Chapter 9 - THE MOTHER WHO WAS BURIED TWICE
I couldn't move.
The woman standing in front of me looked exactly like my mother.
The same gray eyes. The same narrow chin. The same small scar above her left eyebrow.
But my mother had died six years ago.
I had stood beside her coffin.
I had watched the casket lowered into the ground.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
She swallowed.
"Eleanor."
"No."
"Alexander—"
"My mother is dead."
The woman flinched.
"I know what you saw. I know what you were told. But I am your mother."
Hannah stepped backward.
"You're alive?"
Eleanor looked at her with sorrow.
"I should have found you years ago."
I moved between them.
"Don't come any closer."
She stopped.
"I understand."
"Then explain how a dead woman is standing in front of me."
Eleanor looked toward the church.
"Your father discovered the procurement network shortly before he died. He believed someone had infiltrated the investigation. When he told me what he'd found, I realized that both of us were in danger."
"So you faked your death?"
"I arranged to disappear. The funeral was real, but the body wasn't mine."
I stared at her.
"Whose body was it?"
"A woman who had died in an accident. Someone altered the records to make the identification appear conclusive."
My stomach turned.
"Who helped you?"
"Victor Hale. He believed I was cooperating with him."
"And you weren't?"
"At first, I thought I could expose the network from the inside. Then I learned how far it reached. I couldn't risk contacting you."
"You let me believe you were dead."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I thought you would be safer."
"You abandoned me."
"I know."
The words came without defense.
That made them harder to hear.
I wanted to shout at her. I wanted to demand every answer she had withheld. But the sight of her standing beside the cemetery where Evelyn had been buried left me with a terrible suspicion.
"You knew Rosalie was in danger."
Eleanor looked down.
"Yes."
The admission struck harder than any denial could have.
"How long?"
"Months."
"And you did nothing?"
"I tried to warn her. I sent letters through intermediaries, but Catherine intercepted them. When I learned Rosalie had found the original records, I came back."
"After she was attacked."
Eleanor closed her eyes.
"Yes."
I stepped away from her.
"Why should I believe anything you say?"
"Because I can tell you who ordered the attack."
"Then tell me."
She looked at Hannah.
"Your sister didn't do it."
"Which sister?"
"None of them. Catherine arranged the meeting, but someone else changed the instructions. The original plan was to frighten Rosalie into surrendering the documents. The person who ordered the violence wanted her silenced permanently."
"Who?"
Eleanor reached into her coat and removed a small envelope.
Inside was a copy of an encrypted message.
The sender's identity was concealed, but the authorization code matched the one on the payment documents.
I recognized the final four digits.
They belonged to a secure account used by a private military contractor.
The same contractor that had supported my last mission.
I looked at Eleanor.
"Who controls this account?"
She hesitated.
"Someone in your chain of command."
I thought of General Cole.
"Is it him?"
"No."
"Then who?"
Eleanor's eyes filled with fear.
"Your commanding officer before Cole. General Marcus Whitaker."
Whitaker had retired two years earlier. He had been celebrated as a decorated commander, a respected public speaker, and a mentor to dozens of officers.
He had also signed my original deployment orders.
"Why would he want Rosalie dead?"
"Because your father discovered that Whitaker was selling classified procurement information to foreign buyers. The Miller company was only one part of the network."
I stared at the message.
"Does Whitaker know I'm investigating?"
"He knows you're home."
A phone vibrated inside Eleanor's coat.
She checked the screen and went pale.
"What is it?" I asked.
She showed me the message.
You have ten minutes to deliver the original files. If you fail, the hospital patient dies.
Rosalie.
I called the hospital immediately.
A nurse answered, then abruptly handed the phone to Dr. Higgins.
"Captain, we have a security issue. Someone claiming to be from hospital administration has requested that your wife be transferred to a private facility."
"Did you approve it?"
"Absolutely not."
"Keep her room secured. Call the police."
"We already have."
I looked at Ward.
He was speaking to local officers near the road.
Then Eleanor's phone rang again.
This time, she answered on speaker.
A man's voice filled the air.
"Mrs. Sinclair, you have something that belongs to me."
Eleanor's face hardened.
"Marcus."
"Bring the files to the old airfield. Come alone."
"You'll never get away with this."
He laughed softly.
"You've been dead for six years, Eleanor. The only person who can testify that you're alive is your son. And the only person who can connect me to Rosalie's attack is a woman who can barely speak."
I felt cold fury rise through me.
"Whitaker."
The voice paused.
"Captain Sinclair. I was wondering when you'd join us."
"Touch my wife, and I'll—"
"Your wife?"
His laughter grew louder.
"That's an interesting word, considering what you've discovered about your family."
I tightened my grip on the phone.
"You don't get to speak about her."
"Oh, I think I do. Because there's one thing Eleanor hasn't told you."
My mother looked at me in horror.
Whitaker continued.
"Rosalie's birth certificate was altered twice. The first version listed Thomas Sinclair as her father. The second listed another man."
I looked at Eleanor.
"Who?"
Whitaker answered for her.
"Victor Hale."
The call ended.
Hannah covered her mouth.
May you like
My mother began to cry.
And in that moment, I understood that the truth about Rosalie's birth might be even more complicated than any of us had imagined.
