Chapter 10 - The Midpoint Truth
Richard did not permit the meeting.
Not yet.
Margaret Vale was brought to a private conference room under police supervision.
She was sixty-three.
Elegant.
Gray-haired.
Calm.
She looked at Richard with an expression he could not interpret.
“You have Amelia’s eyes when you’re angry,” she said.
Richard stared.
“You know my wife.”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“You visited her in Maine.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Margaret folded her hands.
“Because Amelia asked me to.”
Richard’s patience snapped.
“Who are you?”
Margaret’s expression softened.
“Her mother.”
Silence.
Richard actually laughed.
“No.”
Amelia’s parents were dead.
He had attended her father’s funeral.
Her mother, Evelyn Ward, had supposedly died when Amelia was thirteen.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
Margaret reached into her purse slowly.
Mara watched.
Margaret removed a photograph.
A teenage Amelia stood beside a younger Margaret.
Richard stared.
Same eyes.
Same smile.
“Amelia told me her mother died.”
“She was told I died.”
“By who?”
“Her father.”
Richard sat.
Margaret continued.
“I left because he was dangerous.”
“You abandoned her.”
“I tried to take her.”
Her voice tightened for the first time.
“He had more money.”
“More lawyers.”
“More influence.”
“He made sure Amelia believed I chose to disappear.”
Richard felt an awful familiarity.
Vanessa making Sophie believe Richard would be angry if she spoke.
History repeated through manipulation.
“Why didn’t you contact Amelia as an adult?”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Four years before the crash.”
Richard stared.
“She never told me.”
“She wasn’t sure she could trust me.”
“That seems to be a common problem in my family.”
Margaret accepted the bitterness.
“She eventually did.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That someone inside Hale Meridian was using Sophie’s identity.”
Richard leaned forward.
“For what?”
“Accounts.”
Mara looked up.
Margaret continued.
“Shell charities were opened with Sophie listed as future beneficiary.”
Richard felt cold.
“That made stolen transfers appear connected to legitimate Hale family philanthropy.”
“Yes.”
“Vanessa?”
“Vanessa organized part of it.”
“Mark?”
“Covered part of it.”
“Thomas?”
Margaret’s eyes hardened.
“He designed it.”
There it was.
Thomas Bell.
Not merely a lawyer who hid evidence.
The architect.
“Why?”
“He controlled hundreds of millions in private trusts.”
“Stealing?”
“For years.”
“How did Amelia discover him?”
“She noticed one charity using Sophie’s middle name.”
Grace.
Sophie Grace Hale.
“She followed the records.”
Margaret paused.
“She discovered Thomas had been using Hale family trusts as collateral in private deals.”
Richard stared.
“How much?”
“Possibly more than half a billion dollars.”
Even Mara went still.
“Why kill Amelia?”
“She copied the evidence.”
“Where is it?”
Margaret looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
“Amelia does.”
“Then find her.”
“I’m trying.”
Margaret leaned forward.
“There is something you need to understand.”
“What?”
“Amelia did not stay hidden because she stopped loving you.”
Richard’s jaw tightened.
“She stayed hidden because Thomas convinced her you tried to have Sophie declared mentally unstable.”
“That’s insane.”
“He showed her documents.”
“Forged.”
“Yes.”
Richard felt fury spread through him.
Margaret continued.
“He told her Vanessa was protecting Sophie from you.”
Richard almost couldn’t process the cruelty of it.
While Vanessa starved Sophie, Amelia had been told Vanessa was keeping the child safe.
Two women.
One child.
One father.
All separated by carefully manufactured lies.
“Why did Amelia finally leave Maine?”
“She saw a news report.”
Richard stopped.
“What report?”
“Vanessa’s arrest.”
The pantry.
The dog food.
Sophie’s terrified eyes.
Amelia had seen it.
Margaret’s voice softened.
“She realized Thomas had lied.”
Richard whispered,
“So she came back.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why contact you?”
“She wanted the final evidence.”
“What evidence?”
Margaret looked toward Sophie’s requested-meeting form.
“The thing Sophie saw the night of the crash.”
Richard felt his pulse rise.
“What did Sophie see?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why ask to meet her?”
“Because Amelia left me instructions.”
Margaret opened another envelope.
Inside was a photograph of a stuffed blue bird.
Sophie’s childhood toy.
Richard remembered it.
She had slept with it every night until Amelia died.
Then it disappeared.
On the back, Amelia had written:
SHE HID IT WHERE VANESSA WOULD NEVER LOOK.
Richard stared.
“What’s inside?”
Margaret said,
“A memory card.”
“Containing?”
“The full video.”
“What full video?”
Margaret met his eyes.
“The recording Amelia made in your office the night she died.”
Richard felt everything narrow to those words.
“Where is the toy?”
Margaret swallowed.
“That’s the problem.”
“Sophie gave it away.”
“To who?”
“A children’s charity.”
“When?”
“After the funeral.”
Richard remembered.
Vanessa had organized the donation.
Hundreds of Sophie’s old toys had been removed from the mansion.
Richard had praised her for helping Sophie “move forward.”
He nearly became sick.
“Which charity?”
Margaret answered.
“Haven House.”
Richard called immediately.
The charity still existed.
The toys did not.
They had been distributed twenty-one months earlier.
But the director had records.
The blue bird had gone to one child.
A six-year-old girl named Lucy Mercer.
Richard stared at the address.
Baltimore.
Mara stood.
“We go now.”
They reached the Mercer home after dark.
Lucy was eight now.
Her mother remembered the toy.
“She loved that bird.”
“Do you still have it?” Richard asked.
Mrs. Mercer’s expression changed.
“No.”
Richard’s heart fell.
“What happened?”
“It was stolen.”
“When?”
Mrs. Mercer thought.
“Three months ago.”
Richard looked at Mara.
The same time Amelia left Maine.
“Who stole it?”
Mrs. Mercer shook her head.
“We assumed it was random.”
“Anything else taken?”
“No.”
Richard went cold.
Someone had found the bird first.
Then Lucy appeared in the hallway.
She listened quietly.
Finally she said,
“The bird wasn’t stolen.”
Her mother turned.
“What?”
Lucy looked at Richard.
“A lady came for it.”
“What lady?”
Lucy pointed toward Richard’s phone.
“Her.”
Richard looked at the screen.
Amelia’s photograph.
His heart stopped.
“Are you sure?”
Lucy nodded.
“She cried when I gave it to her.”
Richard could barely speak.
“What did she say?”
May you like
Lucy smiled faintly.
“She said she had to go get her little girl back.”
