Chapter 4 - The Man Behind the Accident|
Ethan ordered the room cleared.
I refused to leave.
“Whatever she knows, I have a right to hear it.”
He looked at me with exhausted eyes.
“Claire, this isn't safe.”
“Neither was being married to you without knowing who you were.”
Vanessa placed the photograph on the bedside table.
“The man in this picture is Victor Hale,” she said. “He owns a medical transport company. He approached me after my brother died and offered to help with his debts.”
Ethan's jaw tightened.
“Victor Hale is dead.”
“He was alive when I met him.”
“When?”
“Eight months ago. He said you were in danger and needed someone who could get close to you without attracting attention.”
I turned to Ethan.
“Is that why you started seeing her?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I met Vanessa through a business contact. I should have told you about her, but I didn't.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“You told me you were separated. You said your marriage was over except for the paperwork.”
I watched Ethan carefully.
He looked ashamed, but shame wasn't proof of innocence.
“Who is Victor Hale?” I asked.
Ethan hesitated.
“An intermediary. He handled certain transactions for my father before I took over.”
“And now he's dead?”
“His body was found six months ago.”
“Then why did you tell me he was dead as if you had personally seen him?”
Ethan looked away.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Vanessa took a shaky breath.
“Two nights ago, I received a message. It said that if I wanted my baby to live, I had to bring Ethan to a location outside Chicago. I refused. Then someone followed my car.”
“That's why you were with him tonight?” I asked.
She nodded.
“He was taking me somewhere safe. We were supposed to meet a driver who would bring me to a protected apartment. Then a black SUV rammed his car.”
Ethan's face had gone pale beneath the bandages.
“Did you see the driver?”
“No. But I saw the passenger.”
She opened her phone and showed us a blurry image captured by her dashboard camera.
The passenger wore a dark coat and a silver ring.
A ring I recognized.
Richard Blackwood wore the same design.
Ethan stared at the image.
“No,” he whispered.
“Your uncle?” I asked.
“He raised me after my father died.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
He looked at me.
“Richard controls the family security network. If he ordered the attack, he knew exactly where I would be.”
A nurse entered to check Ethan's monitors. She stopped when she saw our faces.
“Doctor, I'm sorry to interrupt. Someone just called the nurses' station asking whether Mrs. Blackwood had left the hospital.”
“Who?”
The nurse hesitated.
“He didn't give a name. But he said he was watching the maternity ward.”
Vanessa gripped the edge of the bed.
Ethan's voice turned cold.
“Get Claire out of here.”
I stepped closer.
“No. If someone is watching me, I want to know why.”
Then my phone vibrated.
An unknown number had sent a photograph of my house.
The front door was open.
May you like
And someone had written across the image:
YOU SHOULD HAVE LET HIM DIE.
