Chapter 5 - The Dog Who Remembered Everything
Vincent arrived at my apartment twenty minutes later.
He brought Marcus, two security men, and Grimm.
The dog rushed through the doorway the moment he saw Lucy.
She dropped to her knees.
"Sammy!"
Grimm practically folded himself around her.
Vincent watched them.
"Daniel taught him to find hidden objects using scent and sound," he explained. "The whistle was part of their training."
Rebecca looked uncomfortable.
"You knew?"
"No. But I know Daniel's methods."
Vincent took the whistle from me.
He examined the engraving.
"Three circles. That's the old training mark."
"Where would he hide something?" I asked.
Vincent considered it.
"Somewhere Grimm could reach. Somewhere nobody would think to search."
Lucy raised her hand.
"His bed."
We all looked at her.
"What bed, sweetheart?" I asked.
"Sammy's bed. In the big house."
Vincent frowned.
"Grimm doesn't have a bed."
"He does."
She looked at him as though he were being deliberately difficult.
"Under the window. The blue blanket."
Vincent stared at her.
Then he looked at Rebecca.
"Daniel made that blanket."
Rebecca nodded slowly.
"I remember."
We returned to the mansion.
Grimm led us straight to the west office.
He ignored every guard.
He crossed the room, stopped beside an old leather dog bed near the window, and began scratching at the wooden floor beneath it.
Vincent knelt.
"Move the bed."
Marcus lifted it.
There was a narrow panel hidden beneath the rug.
Inside was a small metal box.
My hands trembled as Vincent opened it.
The box contained a flash drive, a photograph, and a folded letter.
The photograph showed Daniel standing beside Grimm.
On the back were five words.
Trust the child. Not Nolan.
I opened the letter.
Claire,
If you're reading this, then something went wrong.
I'm sorry.
I tried to get home. I tried harder than you will ever know.
Keep Lucy away from the Hale family until you know who betrayed me.
The truth isn't in the ledger alone.
It's in the people who signed it.
I love you both.
Daniel.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
For six years, I had imagined every possible way my husband might have died.
I had never allowed myself to imagine that he might still be alive.
Vincent connected the flash drive to an isolated computer.
Files appeared.
Bank transfers.
Photographs.
Shipment records.
Audio recordings.
And one video.
Daniel appeared on the screen.
His face was bruised.
A bandage covered his forehead.
But he was alive.
"Vincent," he said, looking directly into the camera. "If you're watching this, it means I failed to get the evidence to you."
Vincent gripped the desk.
Daniel continued.
"Nolan isn't working alone. The person who gave him access to the accounts is someone you trust. Someone who has been standing beside you for years."
The video flickered.
Then Daniel looked down.
"There's one more thing. If Claire and Lucy have reached you, don't tell them where I am."
A gunshot sounded.
The screen went black.
Nobody moved.
Then Marcus slowly stepped away from Vincent.
His hand went beneath his jacket.
"Boss," he said quietly.
Vincent turned.
May you like
Marcus was holding a gun.
And it was pointed at me.
