Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN THE BASEMENT
Lena did not tell Detective Ruiz about the message immediately.
That decision lasted eleven seconds.
Then Adrian saw her face.
“What happened?”
Lena locked the phone.
“Nothing.”
He stared at her.
“Eleven months ago, I might have believed that.”
She hated that he still knew how to read her.
Mara reentered the library.
“Security is sealing the building.”
“Victor’s phone is off.”
“Traffic cameras lost him near Forty-Second Street.”
Lena handed her phone to the detective.
Mara read the message.
Her eyes hardened.
“When did this come in?”
“About thirty seconds ago.”
“And you were planning to tell me?”
“Yes.”
Adrian gave Lena a look.
She ignored him.
Mara enlarged the photograph of Claire.
“Do you recognize the location?”
“No.”
Adrian moved closer.
“Maybe.”
Lena and Mara looked at him.
“There’s stonework like that beneath the old Mercer winery.”
Lena frowned.
“My family hasn’t used that property in years.”
“Victor has.”
“How do you know?”
“He held private card games there.”
Lena stared.
“My father knows?”
“I assumed.”
“That means yes.”
Adrian did not argue.
Mara called for tactical officers.
Lena immediately objected.
“If they see police, they’ll hurt Claire.”
“We are not sending you into a basement alone.”
“They asked for me.”
“Kidnappers often do.”
“They want the hospital records.”
“No.”
Mara looked at her.
“They want whatever they think the records contain.”
Lena understood.
The original patient chart had something more valuable than proof of her survival.
Claire had told her that months ago.
Several pages had been removed before Lena regained consciousness.
Claire had copied two before they vanished.
One showed a medication order.
The other showed who authorized it.
Lena had never told Adrian.
Mara noticed her silence.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Lena exhaled.
“There was a drug.”
“What drug?”
“Midazolam.”
Adrian looked at her.
“That’s a sedative.”
“Yes.”
“You were unconscious.”
“Exactly.”
Mara understood first.
“Why continue giving a deeply unconscious trauma patient a sedative?”
Lena nodded.
“Claire asked the same question.”
“Who ordered it?”
“The order was entered under Dr. Malcolm Reeves.”
Mara wrote the name down.
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
Adrian looked at Lena.
“When?”
“Three weeks after my crash.”
Mara stopped writing.
“Cause?”
“Heart attack.”
“Age?”
“Forty-six.”
Mara gave a humorless smile.
“Convenient.”
Lena continued.
“Claire believed someone was keeping me sedated after I should have begun waking up.”
Adrian’s face tightened.
“For how long?”
“Almost five weeks.”
He stared at her.
Five weeks.
Thirty-five days during which Lena might have been awake.
Thirty-five days someone stole from her.
Adrian’s voice became almost inaudible.
“Who authorized it?”
Lena looked at him.
“Your brother’s electronic access card was used to enter the secure medication system twice.”
Adrian stepped backward.
He looked sick.
Mara closed the notebook.
“Then Victor may be facing attempted murder in addition to kidnapping.”
Lena shook her head.
“He didn’t act alone.”
“No.”
Mara looked at the photograph again.
“He almost certainly didn’t.”
Within twenty minutes, a tactical plan had been prepared.
Lena hated every part of it.
She hated the bulletproof vest hidden beneath her trench coat.
She hated the tiny transmitter clipped beneath her collar.
She hated sitting inside an unmarked SUV two blocks from the abandoned Mercer winery while rain began falling across the windshield.
Most of all, she hated Adrian being in the vehicle beside her.
“You’re not coming inside.”
She said.
“I know.”
“You’re staying here.”
“I heard Mara.”
“I mean it.”
He looked at her.
“So do I.”
She wanted to believe him.
That was becoming a problem.
The winery sat on twenty acres outside the city.
Lena’s grandfather had built it before Prohibition.
Her father had renovated the main structure for private events in the 1990s, then abandoned it after the Mercer family shifted its business interests to pharmaceuticals and biotechnology.
The underground cellars remained.
So did the old service tunnels.
Mara pointed to a floor plan.
“There are three entrances.”
“The front.”
“A loading door on the west side.”
“And a drainage tunnel behind the hill.”
“Our people will cover all three.”
Lena looked at the diagram.
“There’s a fourth.”
Mara turned.
“What?”
“My grandfather built a private tasting room.”
“There’s a staircase behind the north wall.”
“It connects to a small chapel.”
Adrian frowned.
“I’ve never seen a chapel.”
“That was the point.”
Mara updated the plan.
Five minutes later, Lena walked alone toward the main entrance.
The wind pulled at her coat.
Her injured leg ached.
Every instinct screamed to turn around.
Claire had saved her life.
Lena would not leave her.
The front door opened before she touched it.
Thomas Crane stood inside.
No weapon was visible.
That made him more frightening.
“Come in.”
Lena entered.
The door closed behind her.
Crane held out his hand.
“The records.”
“Claire first.”
“You’re not negotiating.”
“Then kill me.”
Crane’s eyes narrowed.
“You think I won’t?”
“If you wanted me dead immediately, you would have done it from a distance.”
“You need something.”
“What?”
“The records.”
“Why?”
He smiled.
“You always did ask too many questions.”
Lena followed him through the abandoned tasting room.
Dust covered the tables.
Empty wine racks stretched along one wall.
They descended a narrow staircase.
The basement smelled of damp stone and old wood.
Claire sat exactly where she had appeared in the photograph.
She was alive.
Her eyes widened when she saw Lena.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
Crane struck the back of Claire’s chair with his hand.
“Quiet.”
Lena stopped.
“Let her go.”
“Records.”
Lena reached inside her coat and removed a brown envelope.
Crane approached.
He took it.
Opened it.
Pulled out several pages.
His eyes moved quickly.
Then his expression changed.
“These are copies.”
“So?”
“The originals.”
“I don’t have them.”
“Wrong answer.”
“You think I walked into a basement carrying the only evidence that proves I’m alive?”
Crane looked almost amused.
“You’re more like your mother than your father ever wanted to admit.”
Lena felt a sudden chill.
“What does my mother have to do with this?”
Crane said nothing.
Claire began shaking her head.
“Lena, don’t listen to him.”
Crane turned toward her.
“Your nurse knows.”
Lena looked at Claire.
“Knows what?”
Claire’s eyes filled with fear.
“Not here.”
Crane laughed quietly.
“Still protecting the Mercer family after everything they did?”
Lena took a step toward Claire.
“What does he mean?”
“Lena.”
“What does he mean?”
Before Claire could answer, a door opened behind them.
Victor entered.
His tuxedo jacket was gone.
His white shirt sleeves were rolled up.
He looked exhausted.
Adrian’s younger brother had always been handsome in a careless way.
Tonight he looked twenty years older.
Crane frowned.
“You weren’t supposed to come.”
Victor ignored him.
He looked directly at Lena.
“I didn’t take Claire.”
Crane turned.
“Victor.”
“I said I didn’t take her.”
Lena stared at him.
“You expect me to believe you?”
“No.”
Victor walked closer.
“But you should.”
Crane’s hand moved beneath his jacket.
Victor noticed.
“So that’s how this is going?”
“You made mistakes.”
“I made one mistake.”
Victor looked at Lena.
“I listened to Richard.”
Lena’s heartbeat accelerated.
“My father ordered this?”
Victor laughed bitterly.
“Your father ordered almost everything.”
Crane pulled a pistol.
Lena’s transmitter suddenly felt very small.
Mara’s officers were supposed to enter if they saw a weapon.
But the stone basement walls interfered with video.
Lena did not know what they could see.
Crane pointed the gun toward Victor.
“You should have left town.”
Victor lifted his hands.
“You should have killed me when you had the chance.”
Claire gasped.
Lena stepped between them without thinking.
Crane’s weapon shifted.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Lena.”
“Let Claire go.”
“This isn’t about her.”
“Then release her.”
Crane considered.
Then he smiled.
“You really don’t remember.”
Lena’s skin prickled.
“Remember what?”
“The crash.”
“I remember enough.”
“No.”
Crane took another step.
“You remember the car.”
“You remember the rain.”
“You remember the brakes.”
“But you don’t remember why the passenger door was open when we found you.”
Lena went still.
Victor looked sharply at Crane.
“Stop.”
Crane ignored him.
“Your car hit the barrier at sixty-three miles an hour.”
“It rolled twice.”
“Fire started near the engine.”
“You should have died.”
Lena could hear her pulse.
Crane continued.
“But you weren’t the only person in the car.”
The memory hit.
A scream.
Someone grabbing the wheel.
Bianca.
No.
Another face.
Lena staggered.
Victor moved toward her.
Crane raised the gun.
“Stay back.”
Lena pressed both hands against her temples.
A voice came from somewhere inside her memory.
Pull over.
Lena, pull over.
Then another voice.
Drive.
She saw a silver watch.
She saw blood on a white cuff.
She saw Adrian’s face.
Lena opened her eyes.
“You were there.”
Victor stared at her.
“I was.”
Adrian heard those words through the surveillance earpiece.
Inside the command vehicle, he stood.
Mara grabbed his arm.
“Sit down.”
“That’s my brother.”
“Which is why you’re staying here.”
“He said he was in the car.”
“We heard him.”
Adrian looked toward the winery.
“What the hell happened that night?”
Back underground, Victor lowered his voice.
“I was following you.”
“Why?”
“Richard asked me to.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you had taken something.”
“The blue file?”
Victor’s face changed.
“You remember that?”
“Pieces.”
“Then remember faster.”
Crane stepped toward him.
“Enough.”
Victor looked at Lena.
“The file wasn’t about your company.”
“What was it about?”
“Patients.”
Lena remembered names.
Forty-seven names.
Some crossed out.
Some marked deceased.
Victor continued.
“Mercer Biomedical had been running an off-book clinical program for years.”
Crane raised the gun higher.
Victor spoke faster.
“Your mother found out.”
Lena’s breath stopped.
“My mother?”
“She was going to expose it.”
“My mother died eight years ago.”
Victor looked at her.
“Yes.”
That single word changed everything.
Crane moved.
A sharp sound exploded through the basement.
Claire screamed.
Lena dropped instinctively.
The old wooden door behind Crane shattered inward.
Police poured through it.
Crane turned.
Victor tackled him.
The gun skidded across the stone floor.
Mara rushed toward Claire.
Two officers pinned Crane down.
Victor lay beside him breathing hard.
Lena stared at Victor.
He had just saved her.
Or perhaps saved himself.
Adrian entered despite orders.
Mara swore.
He ignored her and ran toward Lena.
She held up one hand.
“I’m fine.”
He stopped before touching her.
Victor sat against the wall.
Adrian looked at his brother.
“You were in Lena’s car?”
Victor nodded.
“Part of the way.”
“You followed her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you cause the crash?”
“No.”
“Did you try to kill her in the hospital?”
Victor closed his eyes.
“No.”
“The syringe.”
“I was trying to take something out of her IV.”
“What?”
Victor looked at Lena.
“A drug Richard ordered.”
The entire basement fell silent.
Lena approached.
“You were trying to wake me up?”
Victor gave a tired laugh.
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I was trying to stop them from keeping you unconscious.”
“Why?”
“Because by then I realized your father was planning to keep you that way permanently.”
Mara turned toward Crane.
“Richard Mercer ordered it?”
Victor nodded.
Claire began crying.
Lena felt the room tilt.
“My father tried to kill me.”
Victor looked at her.
“No.”
Lena stared at him.
“No?”
Victor swallowed.
“Richard didn’t arrange the crash.”
“Then who did?”
Victor looked toward Adrian.
Then back at Lena.
His answer was quieter.
“Bianca.”
Lena felt something inside her collapse.
Victor continued.
“But she wasn’t trying to kill you either.”
“What does that mean?”
“She wanted the blue file.”
“She followed you.”
“She got into your car at the lake house.”
“She grabbed the wheel.”
“Then the brakes failed.”
Lena’s memories burst open.
Bianca screaming.
The car spinning.
Victor’s headlights behind them.
The guardrail.
Then blackness.
Lena whispered.
“Bianca was in the car.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to her?”
Victor looked away.
“She got out before the fire.”
“And left me?”
Silence answered.
Lena closed her eyes.
Then Claire spoke.
“Lena.”
She sounded terrified.
“There’s something else.”
Lena looked at her.
Claire had gone pale.
“What?”
“The night you arrived at St. Catherine’s, Richard wasn’t the first Mercer who came to see you.”
Lena’s heart slowed.
“Who was?”
Claire looked directly at her.
“Your mother.”
Nobody moved.
Lena stared at Claire.
“That’s impossible.”
Claire shook her head.
“I saw her.”
“My mother has been dead for eight years.”
May you like
Claire’s voice trembled.
“Then someone buried the wrong woman twice.”
