Chapter 9 - THE BROTHER IN THE PHOTOGRAPH|
Adrienne had not spoken Nathan's name aloud in years.
The family had called the accident tragic. The newspapers had called it a mystery. The company board had called it an unfortunate interruption in the succession plan.
Adrienne had called it his fault.
He had been twenty-nine when Nathan disappeared, old enough to understand that his brother's recklessness could endanger other people and young enough to believe that one final argument could somehow make him change.
The argument had happened at their father's summer house.
Nathan had accused Adrienne of stealing a business contract. Adrienne had accused Nathan of gambling away company money. Their father had intervened, and the argument had ended with Nathan storming out into a storm.
Three days later, the Coast Guard found a damaged boat.
A week after that, a body was recovered from the water.
Adrienne identified it.
He had been certain.
Or he had needed to be.
Now, in the security room at Ashford Estate, he stared at a photograph on the detective's tablet.
It showed a man entering a parking garage six months earlier. The image was blurred, but the resemblance was unmistakable.
The same narrow face.
The same crooked smile.
The same small scar near the left eyebrow.
“Nathan,” Adrienne whispered.
The detective shook his head.
“We can't confirm that from a photograph.”
“I know his face.”
“Then you also know that people can resemble one another.”
Adrienne turned away.
Marisol stood near the door, listening without intruding.
She wanted to ask him what had happened that night. She wanted to demand why someone would use his dead brother's identity to finance a murder and kidnap her brother.
But she remembered the expression on Adrienne's face when he saw Emilio tied to the chair.
He was afraid.
Not merely suspicious. Not merely angry.
Afraid of something he had carried for years.
When the detective stepped outside to make a call, Marisol approached him.
“What happened the night Nathan died?”
Adrienne rubbed a hand over his face.
“I told the police we argued. He left. His boat was found three days later.”
“Is that all?”
“No.”
He looked toward the dark window.
“Our father had been ill. The company was in trouble, and Nathan wanted to sell a division that employed thousands of people. I opposed him. We fought about it. I told him if he destroyed the company, I would make sure he never controlled it.”
“Did you threaten him?”
“I said things I shouldn't have said.”
“Did you see him leave?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see him get on the boat?”
Adrienne's silence answered her.
“I assumed he had,” he said. “The next morning, I found a note in his room. It said he was going away for a while.”
“Then why did you identify the body?”
“Because the face looked like his. Because the police said the clothing matched. Because I had spent my entire life believing that if something terrible happened, I would have to be the one to deal with it.”
His voice broke on the final words.
Marisol softened.
“Maybe you didn't fail him.”
“You don't know that.”
“No. But I know guilt can make a person accept an answer just because it hurts less than uncertainty.”
Adrienne looked at her.
For a moment, something shifted between them. The distance between employer and employee, between a man with a fortune and a woman who had spent years working to keep her brother in school, seemed less important than the grief they both understood.
Then Grant entered.
“We found the vehicle's likely route,” he said. “The SUV traveled north after leaving the university. It was captured by a traffic camera near an abandoned freight terminal.”
Adrienne straightened.
“Send the coordinates to the police.”
“Already done. But there's another problem.”
Grant placed a printed photograph on the desk.
It showed the freight terminal's main entrance.
A man stood beneath the rusted sign, facing the camera.
He wore a dark coat and a silver signet ring.
Marisol recognized him immediately.
“That's Victor.”
Adrienne stared at the image.
The man beside Victor was older, broader, and partly hidden by shadow.
But his face was visible enough to send a chill through the room.
Adrienne took one step backward.
“Nathan.”
The detective returned and saw the photograph.
Nobody spoke.
Then Adrienne reached for his phone.
“Tell the team not to approach the terminal until we know who is inside.”
Grant nodded.
“Why?”
Adrienne looked at his brother's face.
“Because if Nathan is alive, this isn't a kidnapping to silence a witness.”
May you like
He turned toward Marisol.
“It's a message to me.”
