Chapter 5 - THE EMPTY CRIB
Grace screamed Noah’s name until her throat hurt.
Damian did not scream.
His reaction was worse.
He became completely still.
Cole’s team searched the estate.
Kitchen.
Garage.
Service corridors.
Basement.
Gardens.
Every room.
Nothing.
Then Grace remembered the nursery monitor.
“The service channel.”
Cole turned.
“What?”
“The passage behind the wall.”
Security opened it.
A maintenance shaft ran downward from the nursery toward an old laundry tunnel.
Someone had opened a panel from inside.
A guard was found unconscious near the utility entrance.
Alive.
Drugged.
Damian’s fists tightened.
“He knew the estate.”
Cole nodded.
“And our rotation schedule.”
“Gabriel.”
“Maybe.”
Damian glared at him.
“No more maybe.”
Then Grace noticed a smear of blue fabric on the tunnel edge.
Noah’s blanket.
“He went this way.”
They followed.
The tunnel ended beneath the detached garage.
A vehicle had left seventeen minutes earlier.
Traffic cameras captured a black delivery van.
The license plate belonged to a florist.
The real florist vehicle was still parked across town.
Grace grabbed her coat.
Damian looked at her.
“No.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“I know Noah’s routines.”
“My men can handle that.”
“He won’t settle for strangers.”
Damian stepped closer.
“This is not a discussion.”
Grace stared back.
“You trusted me enough to put him in my arms when police took Camille.”
“That was different.”
“No.”
Her voice hardened.
“You’re afraid.”
Damian’s eyes flashed.
“Yes.”
The admission surprised them both.
“I’m terrified.”
Grace went silent.
Damian continued.
“I already lost Isabel.”
“I will not watch someone take Noah.”
“Then don’t make me stay behind.”
Their eyes held.
Finally Damian nodded.
The search led them to an abandoned church on Chicago’s South Side.
Inside, they found nothing.
Except Noah’s blue blanket.
And a speaker.
A recording began.
Gabriel’s voice filled the church.
“Damian.”
Damian’s face changed.
“I hoped we could avoid this.”
Grace looked around desperately.
“Noah?”
Gabriel continued.
“The child is safe.”
“For now.”
“You have something I need.”
Damian whispered,
“The ledger.”
Grace looked at him.
“What ledger?”
Gabriel answered through the recording as if he could hear.
“Your father’s private ledger.”
“The names.”
“The accounts.”
“The agreements.”
“Everything that could destroy what he built.”
Damian closed his eyes.
Grace understood.
Elias had documented the criminal side of the Hawthorne empire.
Gabriel wanted it.
“Bring it to Pier Thirty-Seven by midnight tomorrow.”
“Come alone.”
“If police appear…”
The recording paused.
Then Noah’s cry came through the speaker.
Grace covered her mouth.
Damian’s face shattered for half a second.
Then Gabriel finished.
“…your son becomes another Hawthorne tragedy.”
The recording stopped.
Grace turned to Damian.
“Do you have the ledger?”
“No.”
“Then where is it?”
Damian looked toward the church altar.
“My father hid it before he died.”
“How do we find it?”
“I don’t know.”
Grace stared at the crucifix above the altar.
Then remembered Isabel’s video.
Your father was right.
She walked toward the front pew.
“What did Elias believe in?”
Damian almost laughed.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing.”
Grace shook her head.
“Everybody believes in something.”
Damian looked around.
Then suddenly stopped.
“My mother.”
“What?”
“She died when I was twelve.”
“She used to bring us here.”
Grace stared.
“This church?”
Damian walked toward a memorial plaque.
ELENA HAWTHORNE.
BELOVED MOTHER.
He touched the brass plate.
It moved.
Behind it was a recessed compartment.
Inside sat a black book.
Damian stared.
Grace whispered,
“The ledger.”
He opened it.
Names filled the pages.
Judges.
Police officials.
Executives.
Politicians.
Criminal partners.
Then Damian reached the final page.
His face went white.
Grace looked down.
May you like
There was one handwritten name.
COLE BARRETT.
