Chapter 13 - Rachel Vale Was Never Rachel
They turned the car around.
The private school was only twenty-five minutes away.
It was closed for the evening, but the head administrator answered after June invoked a federal kidnapping investigation.
Rachel Vale had been employed there for two years.
School counselor.
Quiet.
Excellent with children.
No known family.
She had resigned that morning.
Margaret’s pulse hammered.
“Do you have an address?”
The administrator provided one.
A small rental cottage near the shoreline.
Mr. Cho entered first.
Empty.
Margaret followed.
The room smelled faintly of coffee and sea air.
On the kitchen counter sat one mug.
Still warm.
Margaret walked through the house slowly.
Then she saw it.
A photograph on the mantel.
A young boy at the beach.
Noah.
Beside him, a woman whose face was turned away.
Margaret touched the frame.
“Rebecca.”
Behind her, the floor creaked.
Mr. Cho raised his weapon.
A woman stood in the doorway.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
A scar near her temple.
Margaret forgot how to breathe.
“Mom.”
Rebecca’s voice had changed.
But not enough.
Margaret crossed the room.
She stopped inches away.
For five years she had imagined this impossible moment.
In some versions she screamed.
In others she slapped her.
In others she collapsed.
Instead, she touched Rebecca’s cheek.
Warm.
Real.
Then she pulled her daughter into her arms.
Rebecca broke first.
“I’m sorry.”
Margaret held her tighter.
“You let me think you were dead.”
“I know.”
“You let me bury you.”
“I know.”
“You had a son.”
Rebecca sobbed.
“I know.”
Margaret pulled back.
Her face hardened.
“Then help me get both boys back.”
Rebecca wiped her face.
“Evelyn has them.”
“We know.”
“She isn’t going to Nassau.”
Margaret stared.
“The flight manifest.”
“Decoy.”
“Where is she going?”
Rebecca grabbed a backpack.
“There’s an old Vance property in Rhode Island.”
David frowned.
“My family doesn’t own anything there.”
Rebecca looked at him.
“Your mother does. Under Michael’s name.”
David went still.
Rebecca continued.
“She built a private biometric lab there years ago.”
June cursed.
They left immediately.
On the drive, Margaret sat beside Rebecca in the back seat.
There were a thousand questions.
Only one mattered first.
“Why didn’t you come home?”
Rebecca stared out the window.
“Because I thought everyone around you was compromised.”
“Thomas?”
“Sometimes.”
“Samuel?”
“No.”
“Eleanor?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“That was complicated.”
Margaret almost laughed.
“Everything about Eleanor is complicated.”
Rebecca looked at her.
“She saved me.”
Margaret said nothing.
“She also lied to me for years.”
“About Michael?”
“Yes.”
“And Evelyn?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca’s voice turned bitter.
“Eleanor kept believing she could manage Evelyn. She thought if she gave her small pieces of access, she could stop her from taking everything.”
“That sounds like feeding a wolf to keep it from entering the house.”
Rebecca looked at her mother.
“Exactly.”
Margaret reached for her hand.
Rebecca stared at their joined fingers.
Then whispered, “I wanted you every day.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“You could have had me.”
“No. I could have had you dead beside me.”
Margaret looked away.
She understood.
She hated that she understood.
Two hours later they reached the Rhode Island property.
A stone house stood beyond iron gates near the coast.
No lights.
No vehicles.
Mr. Cho’s team cut the gate.
Inside, the house seemed abandoned.
Then Rebecca found a hidden stairway behind the wine cellar.
Below was a modern laboratory.
Bright.
Sterile.
Empty.
On one counter lay two DNA kits.
Processed.
June examined the computer terminal.
“Transfers completed.”
Margaret stared.
“To where?”
Rebecca pulled up the access logs.
A second system had opened at 9:02 p.m.
Two bloodline authentications.
Approved.
Account authority transferred.
Recipient entity:
EV HOLDINGS.
David whispered, “She did it.”
Margaret’s phone buzzed.
One final message.
A location pin.
Boston Harbor.
May you like
And beneath it:
COME ALONE IF YOU WANT THE CHILDREN.
