Chapter 21 - The Empty Nursery
Emma did not scream.
That terrified everyone more.
Arthur’s bed was empty.
His stuffed fox lay on the floor.
One nursery window stood open.
Cold rain blew across the carpet.
Emma walked to the bed and picked up the toy.
Her son had been asleep there forty minutes earlier.
Her mother was sobbing in the hallway.
“I only left for ten minutes. He was sleeping. Moira said she would sit with him.”
Emma turned.
“Moira was here?”
“Yes.”
Thomas entered.
“No vehicle exited the main gate.”
“Helicopter?”
“None.”
“Service road?”
“Blocked.”
Emma’s mind became unnaturally clear.
“If nobody left…”
Liam understood.
“They’re still on the property.”
Security teams spread across 1,400 acres.
Emma refused to remain in the command room.
She joined the search.
“Emma,” Thomas argued, “if this is Mercer—”
“If Arthur is outside, I’m outside.”
Rain soaked through her coat.
Dogs searched the woods.
Drones crossed the valley.
Twenty-three minutes passed.
Then Liam noticed something.
Small muddy footprints near the abandoned greenhouse.
Arthur’s.
Emma ran.
The greenhouse had not been used in years.
Its glass roof was cracked.
Vines crawled across rusted frames.
Emma heard a sound inside.
A child crying.
“Arthur!”
She entered.
Arthur sat beneath an old planting table.
Alive.
Unhurt.
Emma collapsed to her knees.
He ran into her arms.
“Mama!”
She held him so tightly he complained.
“Too squeeze.”
She laughed and cried simultaneously.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Thomas searched the structure.
“No Moira.”
Liam knelt.
“Arthur, sweetheart, who brought you here?”
Arthur pointed toward the trees.
“Aunt Moira.”
Emma swallowed.
“What did she say?”
“Hide game.”
“Then what?”
“She go.”
Arthur pulled something from his pajama pocket.
A silver bracelet.
Moira’s.
Attached was a folded note.
Emma opened it.
I HAD NO CHOICE.
HE HAS MY DAUGHTER.
DO NOT FOLLOW ME.
Emma stared.
“Moira has a daughter?”
Thomas looked shocked.
“She told everyone she never married.”
Liam gently lifted Arthur.
“There’s more.”
On the back:
CROW IS NOT ME.
Emma closed her eyes.
Of course.
Mercer had framed Liam.
Now he was framing Moira.
Every accusation pushed Emma toward mistrusting another person.
That was his real weapon.
Isolation.
Thomas’s radio crackled.
A security officer spoke.
“We found Ms. MacCarthy’s vehicle.”
“Location?”
“Eastern cliff road.”
Emma’s heart dropped.
Ten minutes later they reached the car.
Driver’s door open.
Blood on the steering wheel.
No Moira.
Her phone lay on the ground.
Thomas picked it up.
A video was queued.
Emma pressed play.
Gideon Mercer appeared.
Behind him sat Moira.
Her hands were bound.
Beside her stood a young woman Emma had never seen.
“Emma,” Gideon said.
“You have something that belongs to me.”
Emma’s jaw tightened.
“The recordings.”
“If you release them, Moira dies.”
He gestured toward the younger woman.
“So does her daughter.”
Moira shouted, “Don’t listen!”
A man struck her.
Emma flinched.
Mercer smiled.
“You have six hours.”
The video ended.
Thomas cursed.
Emma looked toward the stormy Irish Sea.
“What does he want?”
“The original tapes.”
“No,” Emma said.
Thomas frowned.
“He asked for them.”
“He knows copies exist.”
Understanding moved across Liam’s face.
“He wants Evelyn.”
Emma nodded.
The tapes could hurt him.
Evelyn could bury him.
Her phone rang.
An American number.
Evelyn.
Emma answered.
“Are you safe?”
Evelyn’s voice shook.
“I received a message.”
“What message?”
A long pause.
Then:
“He has my son.”
Emma went still.
“I thought you and Gideon never had children.”
“We did.”
Evelyn began crying.
“One.”
“Who?”
Emma heard her inhale.
“Thomas Sterling.”
Emma slowly turned.
Thomas was staring at her.
He had heard every word.
The rain seemed to disappear around them.
May you like
Thomas whispered:
“She told you.”
