Chapter 1 - THE THIRTEENTH HAND
Emily's hand stopped inches above Noah's chest when the lead paramedic caught her wrist.
"Do not touch him," he said.
She looked at his fingers around her wrist, then at the flat line on the monitor.
"If you keep treating him like a cold infant, he is going to stay dead."
The room changed when she said the word dead.
One of my guards stepped forward, but I raised a hand without taking my eyes off her.
"You have five seconds to explain yourself," I said.
Emily did not waste one of them.
"His skin is hot, his jaw is tight, his airway is swelling, and there is foam at the mouth without enough fluid in the lungs to explain it."
The lead medic released her wrist slowly.
"That could be half a dozen things."
"Not with the nursery heater set to eighty-two and his temperature climbing instead of falling."
She pointed at the warmer above the changing station.
"Turn it off."
Nobody moved.
Emily looked at me.
"If you want your son to have a chance, make them stop warming him."
I had spent half my adult life making decisions that sent men running, hiding, or bleeding.
That night, the hardest order I ever gave was two words.
"Do it."
Frank crossed the room and killed the warmer.
Emily pulled the blanket away from Noah's body.
The lead medic started to protest, then stopped when he saw what she saw.
A faint reddish pattern ran across Noah's neck and upper chest like a burn beneath the skin.
Emily leaned closer without touching it.
"When did that appear?"
The medic frowned.
"It was not there when we arrived."
"Exactly."
She turned toward the open medical kit.
"Do you have chilled saline packs?"
"Yes."
"Use them around him, not directly against his skin."
The medic stared at her.
"Who trained you?"
"Later."
She pointed toward Noah's bottle on the carpet beside the crib.
"And nobody touches that bottle with bare hands."
My gaze snapped toward it.
It looked ordinary.
White formula clung to the inside of the plastic.
The cap had rolled beneath a chair.
Nothing about it looked like a weapon.
Emily looked at the medic again.
"Suction his mouth, reposition his head, and try ventilation again after you cool the room."
The medic's jaw hardened.
"We already did all of that."
"You did it while his temperature was climbing and the swelling was getting worse."
She did not raise her voice.
She did not need to.
"Try again."
For one second, pride fought panic on the medic's face.
Panic won.
He nodded to his team.
Two paramedics moved fast.
The windows were cracked open despite the storm.
Cold Atlantic air rushed into the nursery.
A woman placed wrapped cooling packs beside Noah's body.
The lead medic suctioned carefully, adjusted the mask, and squeezed the bag.
Noah's chest moved.
Barely.
But it moved.
"Again," Emily said.
The medic squeezed.
Noah's chest rose a little higher.
A pulse returned on the monitor as a weak, ugly flicker.
Every person in the room stared at the screen.
One beep sounded.
Then another.
I forgot how to breathe.
"We have activity," the medic said.
His voice cracked.
"Weak pulse, but it is there."
My knees almost gave out.
I grabbed the edge of the crib.
"Noah."
Emily leaned near him, watching his color instead of the monitor.
"Come on, little man."
Another beep came.
Then another.
Noah's lips shifted from dark blue toward a terrible gray.
It was not healthy.
It was not enough.
It was life.
The lead medic looked at Emily with a completely different expression now.
"What do you think caused this?"
Emily did not answer immediately.
She walked toward the bottle.
Frank stepped between her and it.
"You said nobody touches it."
"Not with bare hands."
She pulled a pair of gloves from the open medical kit.
The lead medic watched her take the bottle by the base.
Emily held it up toward the nursery light.
A thin, oily film clung to the inside near the neck.
Formula did not look like that.
I knew because I had made Noah's bottles myself on the nights I could not sleep.
Emily rotated the bottle slowly.
A tiny dark speck slid down the plastic and disappeared into the milk.
"Seal it," she said.
The medic reached for an evidence bag.
I looked at Margaret.
The nanny had stopped crying.
She was staring at the bottle.
Her face had gone so pale that even in the dim room I could see it.
"Margaret," I said.
She flinched.
"Who made that bottle?"
Her mouth opened.
No sound came out.
Frank stepped closer to her.
"Answer him."
"I did," she whispered.
Emily's eyes moved to Margaret's hands.
The nanny was rubbing her thumb against the side of her index finger over and over.
It was a small nervous motion.
I had seen men do the same thing before they lied to me.
"Where?"
Emily asked.
Margaret looked at her as if offended that a maid had spoken.
"In the kitchen."
"Which kitchen?"
"The family kitchen."
"What time?"
"Maybe nine."
Emily glanced at the clock.
It was 9:42.
"Noah became ill within minutes of drinking it."
Margaret swallowed.
"Babies get sick."
I turned toward her so fast Frank moved instinctively between us.
"My son was dead for almost a minute."
Margaret recoiled.
"I did not mean it like that."
Emily crouched beside the rug where the cap had rolled.
She did not pick it up.
She looked beneath the chair instead.
"There is something else here."
The lead medic knelt beside her.
A small strip of clear plastic lay against the baseboard.
It was no wider than a fingernail.
The medic used forceps to lift it.
A faint blue powder coated one edge.
Emily went completely still.
I noticed because until that moment she had been the only person in the room who seemed incapable of freezing.
"You know what that is," I said.
She looked at me.
For the first time, I saw fear in her face.
Not fear of me.
Fear of the powder.
"I have seen something like it before."
"Where?"
Her jaw tightened.
"Not here."
"You are in my house, beside my poisoned son, after doing what twelve paramedics could not do."
I stepped closer.
"There is nowhere else."
The lead medic interrupted before Emily could answer.
"Mr. Carter, we need to move now."
The monitor was beeping faster, but Noah's breathing remained weak.
"He is not stable enough to stay here."
Frank touched the radio at his collar.
"Helicopter in ninety seconds."
The medic shook his head.
"The weather is too violent for a rooftop lift."
A thunderclap shook the windows as if to prove him right.
"Then we use the ambulance convoy," Frank said.
"Police escort is already downstairs."
The medic glanced at me.
"Mass General knows we are coming."
I bent over Noah.
His fingers were curled loosely beside his cheek.
I put one finger against his palm.
For one impossible second, nothing happened.
Then his hand closed around me.
It was weak.
It was barely a grip.
It nearly destroyed me.
"I am here," I whispered.
His hand loosened again.
The paramedics lifted him into the transport bassinet.
I followed them toward the hall.
Emily stayed behind.
I stopped at the doorway.
"You are coming."
She shook her head.
"You have doctors now."
"That was not a request."
Her expression hardened.
"And I am not one of your men."
Frank looked at me, waiting for permission to force the issue.
I did not give it.
Emily had just put a pulse back into my son's body.
That bought her more freedom than almost anyone in my world possessed.
Almost.
"You recognized that powder," I said.
"I recognized a reaction."
"Then you are coming."
She looked toward Margaret.
The nanny had edged closer to the hall while everyone was focused on Noah.
Emily noticed it too.
"Fine," she said.
"But she does not leave this house."
Margaret's eyes widened.
"Excuse me?"
Emily pointed at her shoes.
A faint smear of blue marked the edge of Margaret's right sole.
The same color as the powder beneath the chair.
Frank's hand moved inside his jacket.
Margaret backed away.
"I stepped in something."
"Maybe," Emily said.
"Or maybe you know exactly how that strip got here."
Margaret turned toward me.
"Mr. Carter, I would never hurt Noah."
I stared at the woman who had sung to my son every night for five months.
She had slept in the room beside his.
She knew what music calmed him.
She knew how he liked the bottle tilted.
She knew I checked the nursery cameras twice before every business meeting.
Until that second, I had trusted her with the only life in the world more valuable than mine.
"Frank," I said.
He did not ask what I meant.
Two guards stepped in front of Margaret.
"You cannot keep me here," she said.
"Tonight I can."
Her fear sharpened into anger.
"This is kidnapping."
I looked at Noah being carried toward the stairs.
"Call it whatever helps you sleep."
She opened her mouth again.
Then every light in the mansion went out.
The monitor attached to Noah switched to battery power with a shrill alarm.
The hallway vanished into darkness.
Someone shouted downstairs.
A gunshot cracked from the east wing.
Then another.
Frank drew his weapon.
"Lockdown!"
Emergency lights flickered red along the floor.
I grabbed the side of Noah's bassinet.
"Move!"
The paramedics pushed toward the service elevator.
Emily caught my sleeve.
"Not that way."
"Why?"
She pointed toward the dark elevator indicator.
The numbers were moving even though the power was out.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Someone was bringing the elevator up manually.
Frank aimed his pistol at the doors.
"Stairs."
The team turned.
A scream came from behind us.
I spun around.
Margaret was gone.
One of the guards who had been standing beside her lay on the carpet with blood running from his temple.
The second guard was missing too.
"Find her," I snapped.
Frank grabbed my arm.
"No."
It was the first time in twenty years he had contradicted me with that tone.
"We get Noah out first."
The elevator bell chimed.
The doors began to open.
Frank raised his gun.
Emily stepped between the bassinet and the wall.
The doors parted six inches.
A hand appeared through the gap.
It held a black metal device no larger than a phone.
The lead paramedic shouted.
"Down!"
Frank fired.
The hand vanished.
The device clattered onto the marble.
Emily stared at it.
Her face drained of color for the second time that night.
"Do not touch that."
A thin green light began blinking on its surface.
Frank aimed again.
"What is it?"
Emily backed toward Noah.
"Proof that whoever poisoned him is still inside this house."
The green light changed to red.
May you like
Then the device began counting down from ten.
