I turned toward the conference-room entrance.
William had been there less than an hour earlier.
Quiet.
Watchful.
As he had been for twenty-eight years.
Now his chair beside the wall was empty.
"Where did he go?"
Robert stood.
"He said he was getting coffee."
"When?"
"Maybe forty minutes ago."
Morales was already moving.
"Nobody leaves this floor."
Powell called building security.
I phoned William.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
Robert looked sick.
"I should have noticed."
"So should I."
I hated how easily guilt tried to spread itself across everyone.
No.
Hale had taken William.
Whoever helped him bore responsibility.
Not the people who failed to predict every danger.
Morales enlarged Crane's photograph.
The motel sign was partially visible.
Powell recognized the chain.
"New Jersey."
Crane had sent location data with the image.
Morales forwarded everything to local police.
"Nobody contacts Hale."
Robert ignored her.
"Call Daniel."
"No."
"He knows where they are."
"We have the coordinates."
"He may know what Hale wants."
Morales looked at him.
"Hale wants not to be arrested."
"He took William for a reason."
My phone rang.
Crane.
I answered.
"Where are you?"
"Close enough."
"Is William alive?"
"He was ten minutes ago."
Robert leaned toward the phone.
"Why did Hale take him?"
Crane laughed bitterly.
"Because your driver isn't just a driver."
I looked at Robert.
His face changed.
Again.
Another secret.
I closed my eyes.
"Robert."
"Terry—"
"What did William do for you?"
He stared at the table.
Crane answered.
"He kept Robert's private records."
I opened my eyes.
"What records?"
"Everything Robert didn't trust computers with."
Robert sat.
"Daniel."
"Tell her."
I looked at my husband.
"Tell me."
He rubbed both hands over his face.
"William maintained an archive."
"Where?"
"Several places."
"What kind of archive?"
"Financial records. Security reports. Copies of legal documents."
Irene frowned.
"You told me all original investigation material was in your study."
"Most."
"Robert."
He looked at her.
"William had backups."
I almost laughed.
"Of course William had backups."
Crane spoke through the phone.
"William has something Hale wants."
"What?"
"The original recording of Richard hiring him."
Everyone went still.
Robert stared at the speaker.
"You said you recorded Richard."
"I did."
"But?"
"Hale doesn't know that. He thinks William has the only copy."
"Why?"
"Because that's what I told him."
Morales leaned closer.
"You deliberately redirected Hale toward William?"
Silence.
My anger rose instantly.
"Daniel."
"I needed time."
"You gave him William."
"I thought William could handle himself."
"He's seventy years old."
"Sixty-eight."
"That correction does not help."
Crane exhaled.
"I know."
"Where are you?"
"No."
"Then help us get him back."
"I sent you the motel."
"Why are Vale and Claire there?"
"Hale is cleaning the chain."
"What does that mean?"
"They know too much."
My stomach tightened.
"Is he going to kill them?"
"I don't know."
"You know him."
"That's why I'm worried."
Robert spoke.
"What recording does Hale think William has?"
"The diner conversation."
"What did Richard say?"
Crane went quiet.
"Enough."
"Play it."
"I don't have it with me."
"Then tell us."
Crane hesitated.
"Richard asked Hale whether a death could be made to look cardiac."
Robert's face went white.
"And?"
"Hale said yes."
"Did they discuss me by name?"
"Eventually."
I put my hand over Robert's.
He looked down at it.
This time I did not withdraw.
Crane continued.
"Richard wanted something that wouldn't trigger suspicion because of Robert's existing heart condition."
"Did Hale agree?"
"Not immediately."
"Why?"
"Price."
"How much?"
"Three hundred thousand."
Robert's hand tightened beneath mine.
"Did Richard pay?"
"Fifty upfront."
"From where?"
"One of his investment accounts."
Irene was already writing.
Crane continued.
"But the plan changed."
"Because of Mercer?"
"Because Richard thought the medication route was cheaper."
I stared at the phone.
Human life reduced to cost.
"Then why was Hale at the house?"
"Insurance."
"What does that mean?"
"Richard didn't trust Mercer or Vale to finish it."
Robert looked toward Harrison.
He had heard.
His face crumpled.
Crane said, "Hale was supposed to be there if Robert remained conscious."
My throat tightened.
"To do what?"
"Make sure he didn't."
Silence filled the room.
Robert closed his eyes.
For once, I had no words.
Crane continued.
"But something went wrong."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"You were tracking Hale."
"From outside."
"Did he enter?"
"Yes."
"With Claire?"
"Yes."
"So Elena saw them."
"Apparently."
"What happened inside?"
"I couldn't see."
"Then why did Hale leave without killing Robert?"
Crane hesitated.
"William."
Robert opened his eyes.
"What?"
"William arrived."
I looked at Robert.
"Was William there that night?"
"I didn't know."
Crane said, "He followed Hale."
"Why?"
"Because I'd warned him."
Robert stood.
"You warned William but not me?"
"I trusted William."
The cruelty of that sentence landed immediately.
Robert stared at the phone.
Crane seemed to realize it too.
"I mean—"
"I know what you mean."
Crane went silent.
I asked, "What did William do?"
"He entered through the study window."
Robert frowned.
"The sensor."
"Yes."
"Why not the door?"
"He didn't know who was inside."
"What happened?"
"I heard part of it through William's phone."
"You were listening?"
"Yes."
"What did you hear?"
Crane took a breath.
"Richard arguing with Hale."
"About?"
"Hale wanted the rest of his money."
"Then?"
"William confronted them."
Robert looked stunned.
"William?"
"He had a gun."
That did not surprise me as much as it should have.
"What did he say?"
Crane's voice softened.
"He said if anyone touched Robert again, he would put Hale down where he stood."
Despite everything, Robert almost smiled.
"That sounds like William."
I thought of the narrow-shouldered man who reminded me to fasten my seat belt while I carried a revolver in my handbag.
Yes.
It did.
"What happened next?"
"Sirens."
"The ambulance?"
"Yes."
"Who called?"
"Claire."
That surprised everyone.
"Why?"
"Robert's pulse had become unstable. Vale had apparently told her what to do if the medication caused a severe reaction."
"So Claire saved him?"
"Possibly."
The moral lines kept refusing to stay clean.
A woman could participate in drugging someone and still panic when he began dying.
A son could object to murder and still disable the camera.
A private investigator could warn one person while selling information to another.
Human beings were inconveniently complex.
That did not make their choices less consequential.
"Where did William go after?" I asked.
"He left before paramedics entered."
"Why?"
"Robert had no idea he was there."
Robert whispered, "He never told me."
Crane laughed softly.
"William doesn't tell anyone anything."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because by then you had contacted me about faking your death."
Robert sat heavily.
"And you saw an opportunity."
"Yes."
"To protect yourself."
"Yes."
At least Crane never pretended otherwise.
Morales's phone rang.
She listened.
"We have units approaching the motel."
Crane heard.
"You need to tell them not to rush."
"Why?"
"Hale watches the parking lot."
"How?"
"Camera in the sedan."
Morales relayed the information.
"Any other surveillance?"
"Probably rear alley."
"Rooms?"
"Vale and Claire are in 214."
"And William?"
"Last I saw, Hale moved him to 216."
"Armed?"
"Always."
"How many weapons?"
"At least two."
Morales continued coordinating.
Then Crane said, "There's another problem."
I almost shouted.
"What?"
"Richard called Hale before police took him."
Morales looked toward Powell.
"From the conference room?"
"No," Crane said. "Earlier."
"When?"
"Right after Theresa escaped the house."
I remembered Richard standing in the rain.
Watching William's car disappear.
"What did he say?"
"I only got part."
"Tell us."
"He said, 'She has the bag.'"
My hand went instinctively toward my handbag.
The original will.
USB.
Vial.
Evidence.
"What else?"
"Richard told Hale to recover it."
Robert looked at me.
"He was after you."
"Yes."
The knowledge was strangely less frightening now than it would have been twelve hours earlier.
Perhaps fear has limits.
After enough truth, it becomes concentration.
Morales's phone vibrated.
She read the message.
"Teams are in position."
Crane spoke quickly.
"Tell them William will fight if he thinks they're Hale's people."
Morales relayed that too.
I asked, "Daniel, can you see the motel?"
Silence.
"Yes."
"Then you're there."
He did not answer.
"Why?"
"Because this started with me."
"No. It started before you."
"I gave Richard Hale's name."
"Yes."
"I sent Hale toward William."
"Yes."
"I need to fix it."
I knew that tone.
Men had been using it around me for days.
The belief that one dramatic act could erase a chain of selfish decisions.
"No."
Crane laughed softly.
"You can't stop me."
"No. But don't pretend this is redemption."
He went quiet.
"Then what is it?"
"One useful decision."
Robert looked at me.
Crane said, "Fair enough."
Then the line disconnected.
Minutes passed.
Nobody sat.
Nobody spoke.
Morales received updates through an earpiece.
"Entry team moving."
Robert's fingers found mine again.
This time neither of us acknowledged it.
Thirty seconds.
A minute.
Two.
Then Morales said, "They have Vale."
Another pause.
"Claire too."
I exhaled.
"And William?"
No answer.
Morales listened.
Her expression tightened.
"Room 216 is empty."
Robert released my hand.
"What?"
"Signs of restraint. Blood on the carpet."
My stomach dropped.
"Whose?"
"Unknown."
"Where is Hale?"
"Not in either room."
Crane's phone went directly to voicemail when I called.
Morales requested exterior updates.
Then Powell entered rapidly.
"Vehicle leaving the rear alley."
"Description?"
"Black SUV."
"Plate?"
"Obscured."
"Occupants?"
"At least two."
My heart pounded.
"William."
Nobody answered.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Crane.
One photograph.
Taken from inside a vehicle.
William sat in the rear seat with blood on his forehead.
Beside him, a gun barrel pressed against his ribs.
Beneath it:
HALE CHANGED CARS.
Then another message.
I'M FOLLOWING.
Morales swore.
"Tell him to stop."
I typed:
Police say stop following.
Crane replied:
NO.
Then:
HALE ISN'T RUNNING.
I stared.
A final message arrived.
HE'S GOING TO YOUR HOUSE.
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: We Raced Back Toward Greenwich as Hale Took William to the One Place Robert Swore Held Nothing Worth Killing For
While Everyone Watched Me Mourn My Husband, His Name Appeared on My Phone With a Warning About Our Sons
Part 11 of 25
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