Chapter 6 - Blood Between Sisters
Police surrounded the Mercer warehouse before midnight.
They found a chair bolted to the floor.
Plastic restraints.
Celeste’s silk robe.
And a pool of red wine poured deliberately across the concrete.
No body.
No blood.
No proof she was alive.
Detective Ruiz believed the wine had been left to mislead them.
Maren believed it was a message.
Celeste had been holding red wine when their mother entered the house.
Reed wanted Maren to know exactly who he had taken.
The next morning, Maren watched the emergency board meeting from a private room inside Whitaker Medical headquarters.
Her doctor had warned against leaving the hospital again.
She had ignored him again.
A dark scarf concealed the bruising around her throat.
The swelling on her face was impossible to hide.
Helena stood behind her.
Nathan sat beside the terminal, reviewing the legal petition Reed’s attorneys had filed.
On the screen, eleven board members gathered around a long glass table.
Reed entered last.
He wore a charcoal suit and a solemn expression.
No handcuffs.
No visible fear.
He carried himself like the grieving husband he had planned to become.
“Before we begin,” he said, “I want the record to reflect my concern for my wife.”
Maren almost admired the performance.
Reed explained that Maren had suffered a severe allergic reaction caused by a mislabeled product.
He claimed the stress of her medical crisis had led to confused accusations.
He insisted the frozen accounts were the result of an outdated security system malfunction.
Then he requested temporary voting authority.
One board member raised the question of the police investigation.
Reed looked pained.
“My wife nearly died in my arms.”
“She is frightened.”
“She is searching for someone to blame.”
“I will not punish her for that.”
Helena whispered, “He practiced that line.”
“He practiced all of them,” Maren replied.
Reed produced the forged medical authorization.
Five directors voted in his favor.
Three voted against him.
Two abstained.
The final vote belonged to Celeste.
Her chair was empty.
Reed’s attorney placed a proxy document on the table.
“Ms. Celeste Whitaker executed this authorization yesterday morning.”
Nathan leaned forward.
“That was before the poisoning.”
“Can he use it?”
“Not if we prove coercion or fraud.”
“But we don’t have Celeste.”
Reed lifted the document.
“As my sister-in-law is temporarily unavailable, her vote has been assigned to me.”
The board secretary began verifying the signature.
Maren opened the private communication channel.
Every screen in the boardroom went black.
Then her face appeared.
Reed froze.
“Good morning,” Maren said.
The directors stared.
One woman covered her mouth when she saw the bruising.
Reed recovered quickly.
“Maren, you should be resting.”
“I did enough resting while you waited for me to suffocate.”
The room erupted.
Reed’s attorney stood.
“This meeting must be suspended.”
“No,” Maren said.
“It must be recorded.”
Nathan transmitted copies of the police search inventory, the forged authorizations, and Gideon’s recorded warning to every board member.
Reed remained seated.
His expression did not change until Maren displayed the photograph of him standing beside Conrad outside the private clinic.
One director looked at him.
“You told us Conrad Mercer was dead.”
“I believed he was.”
“The photograph is three months old.”
“It could be fabricated.”
Helena stepped into view.
The boardroom fell silent.
Several directors recognized her immediately.
One dropped his pen.
Another whispered her name.
Helena looked directly into the camera.
“For fifteen years, Conrad Mercer and his son have used this company to hide theft, medical fraud, and attempted murder.”
Reed rose.
“This woman is an imposter.”
Helena removed the Whitaker ring from her finger.
“The biometric records attached to this transmission will confirm my identity.”
She placed the ring on the table.
“And Archive Seven has already been released to federal authorities.”
For the first time, Reed lost control.
“You had no right.”
Maren watched him.
“No right to expose you?”
“No right to destroy the company.”
“You were planning to steal it.”
“I was trying to save it.”
“By killing me?”
Reed looked around the boardroom.
His next words were quieter.
“You don’t understand what Helena released.”
“Neither does she.”
“Your father’s company has supplied defective equipment to military hospitals, falsified trial reports, and bribed regulators.”
“Thousands of employees will suffer because you needed revenge.”
Maren felt the directors’ uncertainty.
Reed was guilty.
But he knew how to place guilt in another person’s hands.
“This is not revenge,” she said.
“It is accountability.”
Reed leaned toward the camera.
“And Celeste?”
The question struck its target.
Maren remained silent.
He smiled faintly.
“You don’t know where she is.”
“Neither do you, according to your attorney.”
“I know my wife better than anyone.”
“You know which wounds she hides.”
“You know which lie she will believe when it comes from someone she loves.”
Helena stepped closer.
“Where is she?”
Reed looked at her.
“I thought you knew everything.”
The connection suddenly ended.
Nathan tried to restore it.
The boardroom feed had been disconnected from inside.
Maren’s phone rang.
An unknown number.
She answered.
At first, there was only breathing.
Then Celeste whispered, “Maren?”
Maren gripped the phone.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you hurt?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“Is Reed with you?”
“No.”
“Conrad?”
Celeste began crying.
Not elegantly.
Not quietly.
She sounded like the fourteen-year-old girl who had once climbed into Maren’s bed during thunderstorms.
“I didn’t know about the car,” Celeste said.
“I swear I didn’t know he caused the accident.”
“Tell me where you are.”
“He made me help with the EpiPens.”
“I know.”
“He said you wouldn’t die.”
Maren’s voice hardened.
“You stood over me and watched.”
“I know.”
“You laughed.”
“I was terrified.”
“You were smiling.”
Celeste sobbed.
“I hated you.”
The honesty silenced them both.
“I hated you for surviving everything.”
“I hated the way people looked at you.”
“I hated that even when you lost your legs, you still had a life I wanted.”
“Then Reed told me I deserved part of it.”
Maren closed her eyes.
“Where are you?”
“I found a phone in the vehicle.”
“I can see trees.”
“Water.”
“A stone building with a red roof.”
Helena was already searching maps.
Celeste lowered her voice.
“Reed kept recordings.”
“Recordings of what?”
“Everything.”
“The affair.”
“The accounts.”
“The poisoning.”
“He recorded us because he trusted no one.”
“Where are they?”
“In Dad’s old boathouse.”
Maren looked at Helena.
The Whitaker family had owned a lakeside property until Gideon’s death.
It had been abandoned for years.
Celeste suddenly gasped.
A door slammed near her.
“Maren, listen to me.”
“Conrad didn’t order your accident.”
“Reed did it alone.”
“Why?”
“Because you found something in Dad’s office.”
“What did I find?”
“You didn’t know what it was.”
“A silver drive.”
Maren remembered a small metal device among Gideon’s belongings.
Reed had told her it contained old tax records.
She had given it to him without opening it.
“What was on it?”
Before Celeste could answer, a man’s voice sounded in the background.
The call ended.
Helena found the location on the map.
The abandoned Whitaker boathouse sat beside a reservoir fifty-three miles north.
Maren looked at Nathan.
“Call Ruiz.”
Helena was already moving.
“You’re staying here.”
“No.”
“Maren, Reed may be waiting for us.”
“He has my sister.”
“The sister who helped him kill you.”
Maren wheeled toward the elevator.
“She is still my sister.”
Helena blocked her path.
Maren looked up at the mother who had disappeared to protect her.
“Do not ask me to leave someone behind.”
May you like
“You taught me what that does to a family.”
Helena stepped aside.
