Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Used a Dead Name
The bank manager looked as shocked as Blake felt.
“It might be a clerical error,” she said.
“Then preserve the camera recording,” Naomi replied.
They waited in an empty conference room while the bank's legal department contacted investigators.
Blake could hear the clock ticking.
Every second made him imagine Abigail somewhere without him.
When the footage appeared, the visitor wore a broad-brimmed hat and a surgical mask.
She was slight, with the same brown hair Sarah used to pin behind her ears.
The camera never captured her entire face.
But when she reached for the drawer, a distinctive silver ring flashed on her right hand.
Blake stood so suddenly his chair struck the wall.
Sarah had worn that ring.
He had placed it in her coffin himself.
“Pause,” he whispered.
The woman in the recording turned toward the exit.
A scar crossed the base of her thumb.
Sarah had gotten the scar while opening a can during their first camping trip.
“No,” Blake said.
Darlene remained still.
“It's possible someone copied her appearance.”
“Her ring and her scar?”
Naomi spoke gently.
“We cannot conclude who this is from a video.”
Blake stared at the image until his eyes hurt.
He wanted a miracle, and he hated himself for wanting it.
The drawer was empty except for a single white envelope.
The manager produced it with a chain-of-custody form.
Inside was a handwritten note.
BLAKE, IF THEY EVER MAKE YOU CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND ABIGAIL, CHOOSE HER.
Below the line was a sequence of eight numbers.
Blake recognized Sarah's handwriting in the uneven way she formed her capital B.
The note smelled faintly of antiseptic.
Darlene examined the numbers.
“They're not a date.”
Naomi searched a list of internal codes related to Oakridge's medical subsidiaries.
Her face hardened.
“It's an archived research protocol.”
Darlene took the paper.
She recognized the prefix immediately.
Years earlier, Oakridge had acquired an experimental respiratory medicine company called Northstar Biologics.
Julian had chaired the acquisition committee.
Darlene had signed the final approval without reviewing the underlying patient database.
“I believed we bought a manufacturing platform,” she said.
Naomi shook her head.
“The protocol is labeled AURORA.”
Blake looked at them.
“What is Aurora?”
Darlene's silence lasted a beat too long.
“A research program that was shut down after its oversight board raised concerns.”
“Concerns about what?”
Before she could answer, a bank employee knocked and handed Naomi a printout.
The masked woman had not only emptied Sarah's drawer.
She had transferred its contents to a second institution.
The destination belonged to a private trust.
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And the trust's beneficial owner was Darlene Stanley.
