Chapter 7 - The Price of a Mother's Grief
Natalie Cross had been lying to Adrian Vale for nearly a year.
But the greatest lie in her life was one she had been forced to believe.
Her daughter was dead.
That was what the doctors had told her.
That was what Victor Shaw had told her.
And for four years, she had lived with the memory of a baby she never got to hold.
Now Detective Laura Bennett sat across from her in an interview room and placed a photograph on the table.
Natalie stared at it.
Her hands began to tremble.
“Where did you get that?”
“Do you recognize this child?”
Natalie swallowed.
“No.”
Bennett waited.
Natalie looked again.
A newborn girl.
Pink knitted cap.
Tiny fingers curled against a blanket.
“Who is she?” Natalie whispered.
“Her name was recorded as Sarah.”
Natalie's breathing changed.
“No.”
“Natalie—”
“No. My daughter died.”
Bennett remained calm.
“Your daughter's original hospital records were altered. We have evidence that she survived delivery.”
Natalie pressed both hands against her mouth.
For several seconds, she could not speak.
Then she began sobbing.
Not the controlled tears she had shown Adrian in court.
Not the frightened crying on the driveway.
These were the desperate, broken sounds of a woman whose entire world had just been rearranged.
“Where is she?”
“We're trying to establish that.”
“Is she alive?”
“We have evidence she survived birth. We don't yet know where she is now.”
Natalie leaned forward.
“Please.”
Bennett studied her.
“Then help me understand what happened to Owen.”
Natalie closed her eyes.
For a long time, she remained silent.
Finally, she whispered, “Victor said Adrian had taken everything from me.”
Bennett turned on the recorder.
“Start at the beginning.”
Natalie wiped her face.
“I met Victor five years ago. I was twenty-eight. He was married. He told me he was separated.”
“Were you in a relationship?”
“Yes.”
“And you became pregnant?”
Natalie nodded.
“He said we'd figure everything out. But when I told him I wanted to keep the baby, he changed.”
“How?”
“He started talking about how dangerous his work was. About enemies. About protecting his reputation.”
Her voice cracked.
“When I went into labor, he took me to St. Catherine's. Dr. March was waiting.”
“What happened after delivery?”
“I remember hearing my daughter cry.”
Natalie stared at the table.
“Then they gave me something through my IV. When I woke up, Victor said there had been complications.”
“He told you the baby died?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see her body?”
“No.”
“Did you receive a death certificate?”
“He said the hospital would handle everything.”
Bennett made a note.
“What happened afterward?”
“Victor paid for an apartment. Therapy. Everything. He said he felt responsible.”
Natalie laughed bitterly.
“Now I understand why.”
“Why did you become involved with Adrian Vale?”
Natalie's expression changed.
“Victor introduced us.”
“When?”
“Eleven months ago. At a charity event.”
“Did Victor tell you to pursue Adrian?”
Natalie hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said Adrian was dangerous. That his wife had died because of his criminal connections. He told me Owen needed someone who could protect him.”
“Did you believe that?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
Natalie looked down.
“Later, Victor promised me something.”
“What?”
“He said he had discovered information about my daughter.”
Bennett leaned forward.
“What information?”
“He said there was a possibility she'd survived.”
“Did he tell you where she was?”
“No. He said if I helped him gain control over Owen's guardianship, he'd help me find her.”
Bennett's expression hardened.
“So you endangered another woman's child to recover your own?”
Natalie began crying again.
“I didn't think Owen would be hurt.”
“You left a five-month-old infant in a locked vehicle during extreme heat.”
“Victor said security would find him almost immediately.”
“Did he tell you to lock the doors?”
Natalie hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you to leave the engine off?”
“Yes.”
“And did you know how hot the vehicle would become?”
Natalie stared at her hands.
“I knew it would be hot.”
Bennett waited.
Natalie whispered, “I told myself it would only be a few minutes.”
“And when you realized nobody was coming?”
“I tried to open the doors.”
“Why didn't you call 911?”
Natalie's face collapsed.
“Because I was afraid Victor would never tell me where my daughter was.”
Bennett sat back.
The confession had changed the investigation.
But it had not absolved Natalie.
A child had nearly died because she had placed her own desperation above his safety.
“Where is Victor now?” Bennett asked.
Natalie looked up.
“He called me this morning.”
“What did he say?”
“That Adrian had found Caroline's files.”
“Anything else?”
Natalie's voice dropped.
“He said there was one person left who could destroy everything.”
“Who?”
Natalie hesitated.
“Hannah Reed.”
At the Vale mansion, Hannah was preparing Maisie's dinner when Adrian entered the kitchen.
“Can we talk?”
She glanced at the clock.
“Of course.”
He waited until Mrs. Bell took Maisie into the adjoining breakfast room.
Then he told Hannah about Natalie's daughter.
About Victor.
About the hospital.
Hannah listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she sank into a chair.
“Daniel must have known.”
“Maybe.”
“He was working at Bellweather when the baby disappeared.”
Adrian nodded.
“We're going to find out.”
Hannah looked toward the doorway.
“Mr. Vale, there's something I haven't told you.”
Adrian sat opposite her.
“What?”
“Daniel left more than a letter.”
She reached into her cardigan pocket and removed a small brass key.
“I found this sewn into the lining of his winter coat after he disappeared.”
Adrian examined it.
A number was stamped into the metal.
317.
“Do you know what it opens?”
“No.”
“Why didn't you mention it before?”
“Because I was afraid.”
Hannah's voice trembled.
“Every time I tried to understand what happened to Daniel, something terrible happened. My apartment was broken into. His bank account was frozen. A stranger followed me home from Maisie's preschool.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I thought if I stopped asking questions, they'd leave us alone.”
Adrian looked at the key.
“Do you trust me?”
Hannah met his eyes.
“I want to.”
It was not the answer he expected.
But it was the answer he deserved.
He had spent years building a reputation that made people obey him.
He had never considered how difficult that reputation made it for anyone to trust him.
“Then don't trust my words,” he said. “Watch what I do.”
Hannah studied him.
Then nodded.
Marcus arrived ten minutes later.
He examined the key.
“Looks like a safe-deposit key. Older model.”
“Can you identify the bank?”
“Possibly.”
“Do it through our attorney. No shortcuts.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
Adrian almost smiled.
“I'm learning.”
That night, the key was traced to a private storage facility that had once operated near Baltimore's Inner Harbor.
The facility had closed two years earlier.
Its records had been transferred to a commercial archive.
Locker 317 remained listed under an unusual name.
Not Daniel Reed.
Not Caroline Vale.
Not Bellweather.
The registered owner was Sarah Cross.
Adrian stared at the document.
The missing child had a storage locker in her name.
And according to the records, someone had accessed it just three weeks earlier.
The person had signed the entry log with a name Adrian recognized.
Caroline Vale.
May you like
His wife.
Who had been dead for five months.
