Chapter 13 - The Heir in the Nursery Photograph
The photograph was not of Mara’s unborn child. She knew that immediately. The infant in the image was newly born, red-faced and swaddled beneath a plastic hospital blanket. A handwritten card beside the bassinet showed a date from twelve years earlier.
Julian took the photograph from her.
“That is not my child.”
“No,” Beatrice said.
“It is mine.”
Everyone turned toward her. Beatrice’s face had gone gray.
“Charles took that photograph when my son was born.”
“You have a son?” Julian asked.
“Had.”
The word carried a grief so deep that Mara forgot her own exhaustion. Beatrice sat on the gallery floor.
“I gave birth to Noah twelve years ago. He was premature. Charles said the family would protect him, but he arranged for a private adoption without telling me. He told me the baby died.”
Elena covered her mouth.
“Noah was the first child named in the succession trust,” Beatrice continued.
“Charles wanted him gone because Gideon had changed the document after learning about the fraud. He used my grief to make me obedient.”
Mara looked at the photograph.
“Why show this to me?”
“Because Charles wants you to believe he owns your child the way he claimed to own mine.”
Julian crouched beside his sister.
“Where is Noah?”
“I found him last year.”
The gallery seemed to contract.
“He is alive?” Julian asked.
“His name is Nathaniel Shaw now. He lives in Oregon with the family that adopted him. Charles does not know I found him.”
“You went to Simon for help,” Mara said.
Beatrice nodded.
“I wanted to expose Charles, but I was afraid he would take Nathaniel too.”
Mara understood then why Beatrice had helped Charles intercept the pregnancy letter. She had not simply been jealous or cruel. She had believed obedience might save the child she thought she had lost. The motive did not excuse her, but it made the betrayal human.
“Did Charles know about Nathaniel?” Julian asked.
“He knew about the adoption. He did not know I had found the records.”
Lena approached with a radio.
“The state attorney’s office has the recording. They are sending federal agents.”
“Then why is Charles still free?” Mara asked.
“He has a ten-minute lead and a private helicopter.”
Peter appeared at the end of the gallery, smoke-blackened and breathing hard.
“The helicopter cannot leave. The storm flooded the field.”
Simon looked toward the west wing.
“He has another route.”
“The old rail tunnel,” Mara said.
Simon nodded.
“It leads beneath the river to the boathouse.”
Mara felt a tightness low in her abdomen. Julian noticed.
“What is it?”
She took a breath.
“A contraction.”
“How far apart?”
“Not close enough.”
“That is not a measurement.”
“Every seven minutes.”
Lena’s expression changed.
“You may be in early labor.”
Mara looked toward the dark stairs.
“Then we have less time.”
Julian reached for her hand.
“You are not chasing him.”
“If Charles reaches the river, he will destroy the bank drives.”
“We have enough evidence.”
“We have evidence of fraud. We do not have proof of what happened to your father, the crash, or Noah.”
Simon’s voice was quiet.
“The tunnel contains the original security system. Charles recorded everything there.”
Julian looked at Mara.
“We go to the boathouse.”
“No,” Lena said.
“The police will handle it.”
“The boathouse has a second entrance,” Peter said.
“If Charles believes he is trapped, he may destroy the records and take Mara.”
The next contraction came harder. Mara gripped Julian’s hand until his knuckles whitened.
“We move now,” she said.
They descended through the service stairs and entered the tunnel beneath the greenhouse. Water ran along the floor. The air was cold and thick with the smell of earth. Halfway through, they found Calder Pike’s pistol and a trail of blood.
He had escaped custody during the fire.
“He is ahead of us,” Lena said.
The tunnel opened onto the boathouse. Charles stood on the dock with one hand around a metal case. Beyond him, the river roared under the storm. A small launch rocked against its lines.
Pike held Beatrice at gunpoint.
“You came,” Charles said.
Mara stepped forward.
“Let Beatrice go.”
“You are in no position to bargain.”
Another contraction seized her. She bent slightly, and Julian put an arm around her. Charles’s gaze fixed on her.
“The child is coming.”
“Maybe.”
“You will get into the boat. Julian will sign the guardianship transfer. Then you will both leave the state.” Julian laughed bitterly.
“You think I will sign anything?”
Charles opened the metal case. Inside lay the original trust document, a pen, and a small digital recorder.
“You already signed once,” he said.
Julian’s face changed.
“What?”
Charles held up a page bearing Julian’s signature.
“The guardianship papers were completed while you were in the hospital.”
Elena made a broken sound.
“I never signed that.”
“You did not need to. Julian did.”
Julian stared at the signature. Mara stepped closer despite the pain.
“He had a concussion.”
“The court will decide whether he was competent.”
May you like
Charles smiled at her.
“And the court will see that the father of your child already surrendered his rights.”
