Chapter 52 - The Daughter Who Disappeared
Rebecca Keene had not vanished without a trace.
She had left her apartment in Burlington after work.
Her car remained in the parking garage.
Her phone was turned off.
And she had missed a scheduled appointment with a friend.
Those facts were frightening.
But they didn't yet establish what had happened.
Thomas was nearly inconsolable.
"I should never have come forward," he said over the phone.
"Thomas," I replied, "you don't know that this is connected."
He began crying.
"They sent me her photograph."
I closed my eyes.
"Have you shown investigators everything?"
"Yes."
"Then let them work."
I wished the words sounded more comforting.
Grayson sat beside me as we coordinated with Evelyn and the authorities.
Rebecca's safety was the priority.
Not the company.
Not the trust.
Not Sebastian.
A missing person deserved every available effort to establish where she was.
Hours passed.
By evening, the uncertainty had become unbearable.
Then Rebecca's employer provided important information.
She had recently applied for leave.
And she'd mentioned traveling to meet someone about her father's past.
Thomas looked stunned.
"She never told me."
Evelyn frowned.
"Did she identify the person?"
"Only that it was someone who had known her mother."
The new information complicated everything.
Rebecca might have traveled voluntarily.
But the photograph left at Thomas's home still demanded investigation.
I thought about how secrets had shaped this family for decades.
Every hidden relationship created another path for fear to travel.
The next morning, Alexandra called.
"Claire, I found something."
"What?"
"Rebecca emailed me last week."
I sat straighter.
"What did she say?"
Alexandra read the message.
My father is finally trying to tell the truth. There's something he still doesn't know about the night Richard Hale died.
I stared at Grayson.
"Did she explain?"
"No. She said she'd contact me when she had confirmation."
"Confirmation of what?"
Alexandra hesitated.
"She believed someone had kept a record of the visitors at Richard's house that night."
I felt cold.
The visitor records could establish who had been present.
And perhaps challenge the stories we'd heard.
"Where was the record?" I asked.
"She didn't say."
By afternoon, investigators confirmed that Rebecca had purchased a train ticket under her own name.
The destination was New York.
Then a security camera image placed her outside an old records-storage facility.
She was alone.
At least in the image available.
Thomas stared at the photograph.
"Why would she go there?"
I looked at the building's name.
It was a former legal archive.
Its previous owner had provided recordkeeping services to law firms associated with Richard Hale.
I felt a sudden surge of hope.
"Maybe she's looking for the visitor records."
Evelyn nodded.
"Possibly."
That evening, Rebecca contacted her father.
She was frightened but physically unharmed.
Thomas began crying when he heard her voice.
"Rebecca, where are you?"
"Dad, I'm safe."
"Why didn't you answer?"
"My phone stopped working, and I panicked after I realized somebody had been asking questions about me."
She apologized repeatedly.
Then she explained that she had located a former employee of the records facility.
The woman remembered receiving an unusual storage request shortly after Richard died.
A sealed archive had been moved out of the law firm's standard records system.
Rebecca had been trying to determine who authorized the transfer.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Thomas asked.
"Because I thought you would stop me."
He closed his eyes.
"I might have."
Rebecca's voice softened.
"Dad, I know you were afraid. But I can't spend my whole life hiding because somebody powerful wants us quiet."
I thought of Lily Crane.
Alexandra.
Amelia.
Every woman who had refused to allow fear to make her choices.
Rebecca continued.
"I have a copy of the transfer receipt."
Evelyn leaned toward the phone.
"Can your lawyer arrange to provide it securely?"
"Yes."
"Who's listed as the recipient?"
Rebecca took a breath.
"Northstar Strategic Holdings."
My stomach tightened.
Malcolm Pierce's company.
Again.
But this time, something was different.
The archive had been moved two days after Richard died.
And according to the receipt, its contents included a sealed medical file, private correspondence, and the original execution records for the family trust.
Thomas whispered, "They took everything."
Rebecca replied softly.
"Not everything, Dad."
"What do you mean?"
She hesitated.
"Someone made copies before the archive was transferred."
"Who?"
May you like
Rebecca answered:
"Richard's wife."
