Chapter 8 - Alexander Has Until Tomorrow Morning
The lease deadline was 9:00 a.m.
If two physicians certified Alexander permanently incapacitated before then, Eleanor’s foundation could finalize the lithium lease.
The proposed medical packet already contained one signature.
Dr. Hale.
The second signature belonged to a physician Alexander had never met.
Dr. Stephen Rowe.
Rachel searched.
Rowe practiced in Nevada.
Near the lithium property.
Alexander looked at Thomas.
“Know him?”
Thomas shook his head.
Vanessa did too.
Hale remained silent.
The sheriff requested an emergency injunction.
Rachel filed one simultaneously in probate and civil court.
But the lease parties were spread across three jurisdictions.
Time mattered.
Alexander stood in the center of the library.
“Then we make incapacity impossible to claim.”
Rachel looked at him.
“Independent medical exam.”
“Now.”
Within two hours, a university neurologist arrived with a physical medicine specialist.
Neither had previous ties to Vale Holdings.
Alexander walked.
Slowly.
Painfully.
But independently.
He completed strength tests.
Cognitive tests.
Memory.
Decision-making.
Motor function.
The preliminary conclusion was clear.
Alexander was competent.
His mobility impairment was improving and inconsistent with the “permanent paralysis” described by Hale.
Blood tests showed sedative and muscle-suppressant compounds not listed on his official prescriptions.
The medical fraud case solidified.
Rachel transmitted the findings to court.
At 4:22 a.m., a judge issued a temporary restraining order blocking any incapacity-based asset transfer.
Alexander should have felt relief.
He did not.
Eleanor was still missing.
Rebecca was missing.
Nathan Hale was dead.
And someone had tampered with his brakes.
The biggest question remained.
Who ordered the crash?
Hale asked to speak privately.
The sheriff allowed it under recording.
Alexander sat across from him.
Hale looked destroyed.
“Rebecca handled Eleanor.”
“What does that mean?”
“She was the connection.”
“Between my mother and the clinic?”
“Yes.”
“Did my mother order the drugging?”
“I never spoke to her directly.”
“Did Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
Alexander leaned forward.
“The crash.”
Hale shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“Your brother worked on my car.”
“Yes.”
“Thomas says Nathan was told to disable the ignition.”
“That’s what Nathan told me too.”
“Then who touched the brakes?”
Hale hesitated.
“Maybe nobody.”
Alexander stared.
“What?”
“After the crash, Nathan said he never reached the ignition.”
“Why?”
“Someone had already been inside the car.”
Alexander’s pulse rose.
“Who?”
“He didn’t know.”
Nathan found the underbody access panel loose.
Brake line fittings had been disturbed.
He became frightened and left.
He told Thomas the job was done anyway.
Thomas believed him.
Alexander felt cold.
That meant the brake sabotage happened before Nathan arrived.
Someone else had already targeted the car.
“Did Nathan tell Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The next day.”
“What did she do?”
“She told him to keep quiet.”
“Why?”
Hale looked at him.
“Because she said the wrong person might think he saw too much.”
Alexander’s skin chilled.
“The wrong person?”
Hale nodded.
“She said, ‘Eleanor doesn’t forgive mistakes.’”
Thomas, listening from the doorway, went pale.
Alexander turned.
His brother whispered, “Mom?”
For the first time, neither brother had a useful lie left.
The sheriff traced Eleanor’s last known travel route.
The charter had flown to Reno.
Then ground transport moved toward Silver Ridge.
Agents were dispatched.
At dawn, they reached a private ranch adjacent to the lithium property.
Rebecca Sloan was there.
Eleanor was not.
Rebecca surrendered.
Inside the ranch house, investigators found hard drives, trust copies, medical files, and payment records.
One folder was labeled ALEXANDER - VEHICLE.
Alexander opened the scanned index remotely with investigators present.
It contained maintenance photos.
Brake diagrams.
Payment authorization.
One invoice read:
Emergency mechanical intervention - $75,000.
Approved by E.V.
Thomas sat down.
Alexander stared at the initials.
Eleanor Vale.
His mother.
But Rebecca, under questioning, said something else.
“That isn’t what you think.”
Alexander laughed bitterly.
He had heard that sentence too many times.
Rebecca continued.
“Eleanor paid for the brake work.”
Everyone went silent.
Then she added:
“To stop the sabotage.”
Alexander frowned.
“What?”
Rebecca looked into the camera.
“She found out someone planned to damage the car.”
Alexander’s heart pounded.
“Who?”
Rebecca whispered:
“Thomas.”
Thomas stood.
“No.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“Not your brother.”
Then she looked directly at Alexander.
“Thomas Vale Senior.”
Alexander stared.
His grandfather had been dead for six years.
May you like
Rebecca’s next sentence made even less sense.
“Or at least, that’s the name the man used.”
