Chapter 9 - THE ROAD OUT OF CHICAGO
The hospital gave Adrian the name of the rehabilitation facility only after Detective Pierce identified himself.
North Lake Recovery Center sat seventy miles outside Chicago near the Wisconsin line.
Richard had been placed in a private medical transport van less than half an hour earlier.
Pierce called state police.
The hospital called the transport company.
The transport company said the driver was not answering.
That was when the situation stopped looking like an administrative fight.
Adrian stood in Marcus's kitchen with his phone pressed to his ear and one hand braced against the counter.
"Find him."
His voice was quiet.
That was how I knew he was terrified.
Pierce ended another call.
"State police are looking for the vehicle."
"How did they discharge him with a forged signature?" Adrian asked.
"We do not know yet."
"Who verified it?"
"A hospital administrator."
"Which one?"
"We are working on it."
Adrian turned away.
I walked to him.
"We will find Richard."
He looked at me.
"You cannot promise that."
"No."
"Then do not."
His words were sharper than he intended.
He closed his eyes immediately.
"I'm sorry."
"You do not have to apologize."
"I should have been at the hospital."
"You were trying to uncover who was using his company to steal millions of dollars."
"I left him with Grant."
"And Grant left for twenty minutes to get food."
"Twenty minutes was enough."
I had no answer to that.
Pierce approached us.
"We found the transport route."
Adrian turned.
"Where?"
"The van entered Interstate 94 northbound."
"Then?"
"Traffic camera caught it near Deerfield."
"How long ago?"
"Nineteen minutes."
"Can we go?"
Pierce shook his head.
"You will slow this down."
"He's my father."
"Exactly."
Adrian took a step toward him.
I caught his hand.
"Adrian."
He looked at me.
"Let them do their job."
"I have been letting people do their jobs all day."
"And we are learning which ones are actually doing them."
That stopped him.
Pierce's phone rang.
He answered.
"Pierce."
We watched his expression.
"Yes."
A pause.
"Is the patient inside?"
Another pause.
"Good."
He looked at Adrian.
"They found the van."
Adrian's knees seemed to weaken for a second.
"Dad?"
"Alive."
"Where?"
"A rest stop near Lake Forest."
"Why did it stop?"
Pierce listened to the phone.
"The driver says he received a call changing the destination, then became suspicious when he could not verify it."
"Who called him?"
"A woman claiming to be Evelyn Harrow."
Marcus whispered from the floor.
"She wanted him moved somewhere else."
Pierce looked at him.
"Apparently."
"Where?" I asked.
Pierce listened again.
"A private residence in Kenosha."
Adrian stared at him.
"My mother has a house there."
The room went silent.
"A lake house," he said.
"She inherited it from her parents."
Pierce asked for the address.
Adrian gave it to him.
State police redirected officers there.
Richard was taken back to St. Matthew's under police escort.
Adrian insisted on following.
Pierce finally agreed if we stayed out of the way.
We left Marcus with officers and medical staff.
Before we walked out, Marcus called my name.
I turned.
"Claire."
"What?"
"The backup drive is not enough."
"Why?"
"Because Evelyn will say Benton acted without her authority."
"Then the voice messages matter."
"They do."
"What are you not telling me?"
Marcus looked toward Pierce.
Then back at me.
"One message is about your mother."
My skin went cold.
"What does it say?"
"I never heard the whole thing."
"Marcus."
"It was forwarded accidentally in a chain Benton sent me."
"What did you hear?"
He swallowed.
"Evelyn said, Margaret's daughter is becoming the same problem her mother was."
I could not move.
"When?"
"Six weeks ago."
The same week Richard added me to Box 417.
"Is that message on the drive?"
"Yes."
I nodded once.
Then I followed Adrian outside.
The return to St. Matthew's was silent.
Richard arrived ten minutes after us.
His transport van was surrounded by hospital security and police.
A nurse wheeled him through a private entrance.
Adrian walked beside him.
Richard looked exhausted but alert.
When he saw me, he lifted two fingers weakly.
I took his hand.
"You're back."
He nodded.
"Safe."
The word was rough.
"Yes."
Adrian bent toward him.
"Dad, I did not sign the transfer."
Richard looked at him.
"I know."
The clarity of those two words made Adrian close his eyes.
Richard was taken upstairs.
Pierce asked the hospital administrator to produce the discharge paperwork.
A woman named Dr. Elaine Foster brought it to a conference room.
She looked mortified.
"The request arrived through the Harrow family legal office," she said.
"It included a healthcare proxy, physician order, and signed family consent."
I studied the signature.
At first glance, it looked like Adrian's.
At second glance, it was too perfect.
Real signatures contain inconsistency.
This one looked traced from a clean specimen.
"Where did they get the sample?" I whispered.
Adrian looked at me.
"The trust acknowledgment."
Exactly.
The document he signed yesterday had given them a fresh signature.
The same signature could be lifted, cleaned, and placed anywhere.
I pointed at the consent form.
"Can we get the original electronic file?"
Dr. Foster nodded.
"The police already requested it."
Pierce looked at me.
"You think the signature was copied from yesterday's document."
"I think someone wanted Adrian to sign a clean sample before the wedding."
Adrian stared at the page.
"The acknowledgment was not just about the trust."
"It may also have been a signature harvest."
Dr. Foster looked sick.
"We verified it through the family office."
"Who answered?" Pierce asked.
She checked her notes.
"Damon Rusk."
There was the name again.
Pierce wrote it down.
"Did you speak to Evelyn Harrow directly?"
"No."
"Benton Vale?"
"No."
"Only Rusk?"
"Yes."
Adrian stood.
"Then find him."
Pierce looked at him.
"We are trying."
"Try faster."
Pierce's expression remained flat.
"That always helps."
Adrian looked away.
I touched his arm.
"He is right."
"I know."
My phone buzzed.
Tessa had sent me a photograph.
It showed the ballroom after the guests left.
At the center of one table sat a white envelope with my name written across it.
CLAIRE.
Tessa's message followed.
This was under Evelyn's place card.
Do you want me to open it?
I called her immediately.
"Do not touch it."
"Too late."
"Tessa."
"I used gloves."
"What is inside?"
She went quiet.
"A copy of a bank statement."
"Whose?"
"Yours."
"I do not have any accounts at Belmont."
"Apparently Claire Mercer does."
My stomach dropped.
"Balance?"
"One million nine hundred ninety-eight thousand dollars."
Almost exactly the two million dollars in the fake extortion email.
"When was the account opened?"
Tessa looked at the page.
"Five weeks ago."
The same week the fake laptop was purchased.
The same week Richard added me to Box 417.
Someone had begun building the case against me the moment Richard began building his case against Evelyn.
"Tessa, photograph every page."
"Already doing it."
"Do not leave the envelope unattended."
"I won't."
"And call Pierce."
"Claire."
"What?"
"There is a note inside too."
My chest tightened.
"What does it say?"
Tessa read it slowly.
"Know your place was a warning."
She paused.
May you like
"This is the consequence."
