Chapter 2 — The Man in the Black SUV
The photograph remained open on my phone long after the screen should have gone dark.
A black SUV.
My house.
Two nights ago.
And the man standing beside it.
I zoomed in until the image blurred.
The face was useless.
The coat was ordinary.
The posture was not.
I knew that posture.
Straight shoulders. Hands clasped behind his back. Head tilted slightly toward the house.
Watching.
Waiting.
I had seen him stand that way in boardrooms, courtrooms, funerals, and private meetings where millions of dollars changed hands.
My thumb hovered over the contact I was thinking of calling.
Then I stopped.
If I was right, making that call could be the stupidest thing I had ever done.
So I did something I hadn't done in fourteen months.
I kept a secret.
I slipped my phone into my pocket and walked downstairs.
The house was unusually quiet.
Annie sat at the kitchen table with Justin asleep beside her.
Jordan was drawing.
Not coloring.
Drawing.
His little hand moved slowly across the paper.
I stopped behind him.
“What are you drawing?”
He covered the page.
“Nothing.”
I crouched.
“Jordan.”
He looked at me.
Then slowly moved his arm.
The drawing was crude.
A house.
A car.
A tall black figure.
And three people standing behind a window.
Two small boys.
One woman.
My heart tightened.
“Who's the woman?”
Jordan stared at the paper.
“Mommy.”
I swallowed.
“And who's the man?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“Have you seen him?”
Another nod.
“Where?”
“Outside.”
“When?”
“Before Mommy died.”
Every muscle in my body went rigid.
“Before?”
Jordan nodded.
“He came to our house.”
I glanced at Annie.
She was listening carefully.
“What did he want?”
Jordan's small fingers rubbed the edge of the paper.
“To talk to Mommy.”
“Did she let him in?”
“Yes.”
My mind raced.
Lauren had never mentioned him.
Not once.
“How often?”
Jordan shrugged.
“Sometimes.”
“Did Daddy know?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Mommy said you were busy.”
The words landed like a blade.
I forced myself to remain calm.
“What did he look like?”
Jordan pointed at the drawing.
“Like that.”
The man in the drawing had no face.
Only two dark circles for eyes.
I felt a chill.
“Did he ever hurt Mommy?”
Jordan shook his head.
“No.”
“Did he make her scared?”
This time, Jordan didn't answer.
He simply looked at Annie.
Annie's expression changed.
I noticed.
“You know something.”
She lowered her eyes.
“Annie.”
She exhaled.
“Lauren was afraid.”
My jaw tightened.
“When?”
“Before the accident.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she told me.”
The kitchen seemed to shrink around us.
“You knew my wife?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
I stared at her.
“You just said Lauren told you she was afraid.”
Annie looked trapped.
“I never said I knew her personally.”
“Then how did she tell you?”
Silence.
I stood.
“Annie.”
She looked at Jordan.
“Not in front of the boys.”
I understood immediately.
I turned to my sons.
“Go upstairs.”
Jordan hesitated.
“Daddy—”
“Please.”
He took Justin's hand.
The two boys disappeared up the staircase.
Only then did I turn back.
“Start talking.”
Annie folded her hands on the table.
“I didn't meet Lauren the way you're thinking.”
“Then tell me how.”
“She came to a community clinic in Yonkers.”
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
“Because she needed help.”
“With what?”
Annie hesitated.
“Someone was following her.”
I felt the room go cold.
“When?”
“Three weeks before the accident.”
“Who?”
“She didn't know.”
“You're telling me my wife went to a clinic because someone was following her, and she never told me?”
“She was scared you wouldn't believe her.”
I stared at her.
“Why wouldn't I believe my own wife?”
Annie's eyes filled with sadness.
“Because she said you were already being watched.”
I stepped backward.
“By whom?”
“I don't know.”
“You do know something.”
“Yes.”
She reached into her pocket.
Another envelope appeared.
Small.
Cream-colored.
My name was written across the front.
Daniel.
My heart began pounding.
“Where did you get that?”
“Lauren gave it to me.”
I stared at the envelope.
“When?”
“Three weeks before she died.”
“Why have you been hiding it?”
“Because she told me not to give it to you unless the boys were in danger.”
I snatched it from her hand.
The paper was old.
The seal was intact.
My fingers shook as I opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
Lauren.
Standing beside a gray-haired man I recognized instantly.
My father.
But my father had been dead for eleven years.
I turned the photograph over.
Three words were written on the back.
He wasn't alone.
I looked at Annie.
“What does this mean?”
“I don't know.”
“Where was this taken?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I expect you to understand that Lauren was terrified.”
I looked at the photograph again.
My father.
A man who had supposedly spent his final years battling Alzheimer's.
A man who had been buried in a private cemetery outside Greenwich.
A man Lauren had never told me she knew.
Except now there was proof.
They had been together.
And my father looked perfectly healthy.
I sat down.
“Why would Lauren have a photograph of my father?”
Annie shook her head.
“Maybe she was trying to find out what happened before you were born.”
I looked up sharply.
“What happened before I was born?”
Annie didn't answer.
A sound came from upstairs.
A door closing.
I stood immediately.
“Stay here.”
I ran upstairs.
Jordan was standing outside the boys' bedroom.
Justin was beside him.
Both were staring toward the end of the hallway.
Toward Lauren's portrait.
“What happened?”
Jordan pointed.
“It's him.”
My eyes moved toward the portrait.
Nobody.
Then I noticed the window.
It was open.
The curtains moved slightly in the cold air.
I crossed the hallway.
The window overlooked the driveway.
Below, the security gate stood closed.
But a black SUV was parked across the street.
My pulse exploded.
I reached for my phone.
The SUV started moving.
I ran downstairs.
“Security!”
Two guards appeared from the foyer.
“Get that vehicle.”
They sprinted outside.
The SUV accelerated.
By the time they reached the gate, it was gone.
I stood there, breathing hard.
Annie came downstairs carrying Justin.
“Mr. Morrison…”
I turned.
“What?”
She pointed toward the boys.
“Look at Jordan's hand.”
Jordan was clutching something.
A small silver object.
I crouched.
“Where did you get that?”
He wouldn't answer.
Annie gently touched his shoulder.
“Jordan.”
The boy finally opened his fist.
A necklace lay inside.
A tiny silver pendant.
My stomach dropped.
I knew it.
Lauren wore that necklace every day.
It had disappeared after the accident.
I had searched for it myself.
The police had never found it.
I picked it up.
My fingers were trembling.
“Where did you find this?”
Jordan pointed toward the study.
I stared at him.
“You went into my study?”
He shook his head.
“Someone gave it to me.”
“Who?”
“The man.”
The room went silent.
“When?”
“Last night.”
My breathing stopped.
“Did he come inside?”
Jordan nodded.
“How?”
“He had a key.”
I looked at Annie.
She went pale.
“That's impossible.”
“No,” I said.
“It isn't.”
Because suddenly I remembered something.
The security logs.
There had been an unexplained system reset six days ago.
The exact day Annie started working here.
I had assumed it was a software error.
Now I knew better.
Someone had entered my house.
Someone with access.
Someone who knew my children.
Someone who knew Lauren.
And possibly someone who knew exactly what my wife had discovered before she died.
I took Jordan's hand.
“Listen to me.”
He looked up.
“If you ever see that man again, you do not go near him.”
“But Mommy said—”
I froze.
“What did you say?”
“Mommy said we should listen to him.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
Jordan's eyes filled with tears.
“She told us before she went away.”
“When?”
“The night before the accident.”
I couldn't move.
“Where did she tell you?”
“In her room.”
“What did she say?”
Jordan looked at Annie.
Then at me.
“She said if anything happened to her…”
His voice broke.
“…we had to find the woman who knew the key.”
I looked at Annie.
She had gone completely still.
“The woman who knew the key?”
Annie nodded slowly.
“What key?”
Jordan pointed at the brass key I had left on the kitchen counter.
“That's the one.”
I picked it up.
“Who is the woman?”
Jordan whispered:
“Mommy said her name was Annie.”
Silence.
I looked at the maid standing ten feet away.
The woman who had appeared in my life six days ago.
The woman my children trusted instantly.
The woman who somehow knew things about my dead wife that I had never known.
The woman carrying the only key Lauren had hidden.
And suddenly the question wasn't whether Annie had been sent into my house.
The question was:
Who had sent her?
Before I could ask, every light in the house went out.
Justin screamed.
A second later, the security alarm began blaring.
Then came three sharp knocks from the front door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Nobody moved.
I reached beneath my jacket and pulled out the pistol I kept there for emergencies.
Annie pulled the twins behind her.
The knocking came again.
Three times.
Then a voice came through the door.
A voice I hadn't heard in eleven years.
My father's voice.
“Daniel.”
My blood turned to ice.
“Open the door.”
I stared at Annie.
She looked terrified.
Because she recognized the voice too.
And then she whispered something that made my entire world collapse.
“That isn't your father.”
The voice came again.
“Daniel.”
A pause.
Then:
May you like
“You've been looking in the wrong place.”
The front door handle slowly began to turn.
