Chapter 4 - The Christmas Dinner Nobody Finished
Gideon ordered Warren confined to a guest suite until the police
arrived.
Warren laughed.
“You think you can imprison me in my own family home?”
“It’s my home.”
“And half that company should have been mine.”
There it was.
Not an explanation.
Resentment.
Gideon looked at his brother and remembered Christmas mornings when they
were boys, when Warren followed him everywhere and complained whenever
Gideon got the larger present.
Their father had turned everything into competition.
Apparently Warren had never stopped competing.
“You wanted the company?”
“I wanted what I earned.”
“You were given forty percent.”
“You were given control.”
Their argument ended when Lucy appeared holding a paper snowflake.
“Mom says no yelling before dinner.”
Warren stared at her with naked hatred.
Elena stepped between them immediately.
“Don’t look at my daughter like that.”
For one ugly second, Warren’s mask slipped.
Then he smiled.
“Your daughter has caused quite enough trouble.”
Gideon rolled forward.
“If anything happens to that child, there won’t be a city far enough
away for you.”
Elena looked at him.
He meant it.
That evening Mrs. Bell insisted on serving the staff Christmas dinner
despite everything.
“Bad people do not get to cancel good traditions,” she said.
They ate turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, and cranberry sauce
beneath strings of warm lights. Lucy wore a paper crown and made Gideon
wear one too.
“This is humiliating,” he said.
“You look handsome,” Mrs. Bell replied.
“Now it’s worse.”
Elena laughed.
For a little while, the mansion breathed.
Then Gideon’s right foot moved beneath the table.
He froze.
Elena saw it.
“Gideon?”
“Nothing.”
“Do it again.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Try.”
He stared at his leg.
Nothing happened.
His jaw tightened.
Lucy crawled beneath the table.
“Lucy,” Elena warned.
“I’m helping.”
She tapped his shoe.
“Wake up.”
His toes moved.
Gideon went completely still.
Elena covered her mouth.
“Call your doctor.”
“No.”
“Gideon.”
“I am not building hope out of a toe.”
Lucy emerged.
“That’s how walking starts.”
He looked at her.
“How would you know?”
“I learned walking.”
Mrs. Bell laughed so hard she nearly spilled gravy.
Later Gideon did call his rehabilitation specialist.
The doctor agreed to examine him after Christmas.
Hope frightened Gideon more than bad news.
Bad news ended questions.
Hope created them.
At nine, police arrived for Warren.
But his room was empty.
The window stood open.
A rope made from bedsheets hung toward the snow.
Caleb swore.
“He had help.”
Security footage showed a maintenance worker disabling a camera.
The worker was found unconscious in a supply closet.
Someone had stolen his uniform.
Gideon ordered the gates sealed.
Elena said, “I’m taking Lucy and leaving.”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“You don’t get to decide.”
“Warren is outside, possibly armed, and he knows your husband was
involved. The safest place is behind these gates.”
“The gates he just escaped through?”
Gideon had no answer.
Elena packed anyway.
Then Mrs. Bell entered carrying an envelope.
“This was taped beneath the kitchen table.”
Elena opened it.
Inside was a letter addressed to her.
Daniel’s handwriting.
ELENA, IF YOU EVER END UP AT THE CROSS HOUSE, IT MEANS THEY FOUND THE
FILES. TRUST CAROLINE. DO NOT TRUST THE DOCTOR.
Elena read it twice.
“What doctor?”
Gideon looked toward the dark windows.
“My surgeon?”
“Daniel never knew your surgeon.”
“My family doctor treated Caroline.”
“Name?”
“Dr. Samuel Voss.”
Elena’s face changed.
“That’s the man who signed Daniel’s death certificate.”
Caleb immediately searched the records.
Dr. Voss had also treated Gideon after the crash.
More importantly, Voss had recommended the spinal specialist who told
Gideon further recovery was nearly impossible.
Gideon’s expression became unreadable.
“Get my medical files.”
Caleb did.
The files contained something Gideon had never seen.
Toxicology results from his first week after the crash showed unusually
high levels of a sedative capable of suppressing motor response.
The report had been marked “clinically insignificant.”
Signed by Dr. Voss.
Elena whispered, “What if your legs weren’t the only thing keeping you
in that chair?”
Gideon looked down at them.
For eight months he had swallowed pills delivered in bottles authorized
by Voss.
Caleb grabbed the current bottle.
The label said muscle relaxant.
The pills inside did not match the manufacturer’s photograph.
Gideon’s hands tightened.
“They kept me weak.”
A noise came from the dining room.
Glass breaking.
Caleb drew his weapon.
They rushed in.
The French doors stood open.
Snow blew across the floor.
On the Christmas table sat Gideon’s medication bottle.
Beside it was a note.
YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DIE IN THE CRASH.
Lucy pointed toward the garden.
“The Christmas lady is back.”
This time, Gideon saw her too.
May you like
Caroline stood beyond the glass.
Alive.
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