Chapter 5 - Ethan Leaves a Trail Behind
The front doors were still locked.
No alarm had sounded.
Police officers were at both entrances.
Yet Ethan had vanished.
Rachel stood in the library doorway.
“He was right here.”
Mara arrived seconds later.
“Who was with him?”
“A paramedic.”
The paramedic looked stunned.
“I stepped into the hall to get supplies. Maybe thirty seconds.”
Daniel’s pulse hammered.
“Ethan!”
No answer.
Mara ordered the property sealed.
Officers searched room by room.
Michael stood near the staircase, pale and silent.
Daniel noticed something.
His shoes.
Mud on the heel.
Fresh red clay.
There was no red clay around the front drive.
But there was along the wooded north side of the property.
Daniel grabbed Michael.
“Where is he?”
Michael raised his hands.
“I don’t know.”
“You know this house better than you pretended.”
“I swear—”
“Where?”
Mara separated them.
“Daniel.”
Daniel pulled free.
Then Rachel said, “The service corridor.”
Everyone turned.
“What?”
“This house had staff tunnels once. Charles told me years ago. Most were sealed during renovation.”
Daniel stared.
“Most?”
Rachel pointed toward the pantry.
They ran.
Behind a shelving unit was an old latch.
The panel opened.
A narrow passage disappeared behind the walls.
Daniel felt sick.
The mansion was full of spaces he never knew existed.
Mara sent two officers in.
Daniel followed.
The passage smelled of dust and cold wood.
Small footprints marked the floor.
Ethan’s.
Beside them were larger prints.
Daniel crouched.
Mud.
Red clay.
Michael’s shoes flashed in his mind.
They moved faster.
The tunnel ended at a basement utility room.
The exterior door stood open.
Outside, the woods stretched toward the old carriage house.
Daniel ran.
“Ethan!”
A faint sound came from behind the building.
He rounded the corner.
The boy was crouched beneath a broken window.
Alone.
Daniel dropped to his knees.
“Hey.”
Ethan launched into him.
Daniel held him tightly.
“Why did you run?”
Ethan pointed at the carriage house.
“He told me to.”
“Who?”
“The man on the phone.”
Daniel froze.
“What man?”
Ethan pulled a small slip of paper from his sock.
A number was written on it.
“I found it in the wall. He said if I got out, call.”
Mara arrived.
“Did you call him?”
Ethan nodded.
“What did he say?”
“He said Daniel would find me.”
Daniel’s stomach tightened.
“What else?”
“He said don’t let Rachel hear the red book.”
Rachel had just reached them.
She stopped.
“What?”
Ethan looked at her.
“He said you don’t know who you are.”
Nobody moved.
Daniel stared at Rachel.
She looked genuinely confused.
Mara took the paper.
The number matched one of the burner phones found below the mansion.
The call logs showed Ethan had connected for forty-three seconds.
The number receiving the call was C.W.
Charles.
Alive.
Watching somehow.
Still controlling events from somewhere outside the house.
Daniel crouched beside Ethan.
“Did he tell you where the red book is?”
Ethan nodded.
Then pointed toward the carriage house.
Inside, beneath a loose floorboard, they found a red leather ledger.
Its first page contained no money.
No transactions.
No names.
Only a photograph.
A baby wrapped in a hospital blanket.
On the back, Charles had written:
ETHAN WHITMORE - DO NOT LET HARLAN KNOW.
Daniel stared at the name.
Ethan Whitmore.
Not Ethan Cole.
Not the son of Rachel’s late sister, as Daniel had always been told.
Whitmore.
Daniel looked at the child.
Then at Rachel.
“Who is his father?”
Rachel began to cry.
“I don’t know.”
May you like
Michael, who had been escorted outside by an officer, said quietly:
“Yes, you do.”
