Chapter 11 - The File Hidden at Riverside

# Chapter 11 - The File Hidden at Riverside

The last thing I heard before the phone went dead was my mother's voice.

"Thomas, you were told not to call him."

I stood motionless beside Claire's hospital bed, the phone pressed against my ear.

For twenty-six years, I had believed Eleanor Mercer was dead. Less than twelve hours earlier, I had held her in my arms and listened as she cried about the years we had lost.

Now I had heard her threatening the man she claimed to have loved before I was born.

My biological father.

Thomas Vale.

And he had accused her of arranging his disappearance.

"Dan?"

Claire's voice seemed to come from very far away.

I lowered the phone.

"That was Thomas."

Her expression changed instantly.

"What?"

"He called me."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"What did he say?"

I looked at her.

"He told me Eleanor arranged his disappearance."

Claire went pale.

Then I said the part that frightened me most.

"She was there with him."

Claire stared at me.

"Your mother?"

"I heard her voice."

"Are you certain?"

I remembered the way Eleanor had spoken to me in her sitting room.

Softly.

Carefully.

Like a mother trying to comfort a frightened child.

The voice on the phone had been different.

Cold.

Commanding.

But unmistakably hers.

"Yes."

Claire gripped the blanket.

"Dan, call Detective Harris."

I was already dialing.

Harris answered immediately.

I told him everything.

The unknown caller.

Thomas's claim.

The reference to the Riverside Hotel.

And Eleanor's voice just before the connection ended.

Harris listened without interrupting.

"Did the caller identify himself as Thomas Vale?"

"Not directly. He said he should have been there when I was born."

"Did you recognize his voice?"

"I've never heard Thomas speak before."

"Then we can't confirm it was him."

I closed my eyes.

"Detective, he knew about the Riverside records room."

"That gives us something to investigate."

"He said there was proof Eleanor arranged his disappearance."

"We'll examine that claim."

"And my mother was there."

Harris paused.

"Daniel, we're going to request the call records and try to trace the number. Don't contact Eleanor until we've spoken to her."

"She might hurt him."

"I understand."

"No, you don't. I heard a crash. He sounded frightened."

Harris's voice became firmer.

"Then let us handle it."

I stared at the dark hospital window.

"There's something you should know about the Riverside."

"What?"

"The original records room is in the basement. My father had it reinforced when he bought the hotel."

"Who has access?"

"Richard. Marcus. Possibly several former employees."

"Do you have a key?"

I hesitated.

"I used to."

"Where is it?"

"At the mansion."

Harris was silent.

Then he said, "We'll obtain access through the company. Do not go there yourself."

I agreed.

But as soon as the call ended, I knew I wouldn't be able to sit quietly while strangers searched for answers about my own family.

Claire watched me from the bed.

"You're thinking about going."

I looked at her.

"Going where?"

"Riverside."

I didn't answer.

She sighed.

"Dan, please."

"Thomas said there's a file."

"And the police know."

"What if someone removes it first?"

"Then Harris needs to secure the room."

I paced beside the window.

"Every time we find someone who knows the truth, they disappear."

Claire lowered her eyes.

"Adrian Bell."

"Dead."

"Evelyn."

"Missing."

"Thomas."

"Maybe in danger."

I stopped pacing.

"And Richard has been hiding for seven years. Eleanor for twenty-six. Vanessa is in custody, but she's still protecting someone."

Claire looked at me.

"You're not wrong."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

She was silent for a moment.

Then she reached toward me.

I sat beside her.

"Dan, when I was inside that room, I used to imagine you finding me."

My throat tightened.

"Claire..."

"I imagined you breaking through the wall. I imagined Lily calling my name."

Tears filled her eyes.

"But there were days when I stopped believing it would happen."

I took her hand.

"You're here now."

"Because Lily heard me."

"I know."

She squeezed my fingers.

"Don't make her lose you while you're trying to uncover everything."

I looked away.

The words hurt because they were true.

For eighteen months, Lily had believed her mother abandoned her.

If I disappeared now, what would that do to her?

I leaned forward and kissed Claire's forehead.

"I'll work with Harris."

She studied me.

"Promise?"

I hesitated.

Then nodded.

"Promise."

At seven the following morning, Harris called with unexpected news.

"We traced the number that contacted you."

I sat upright.

"And?"

"It was registered through a prepaid service."

"Of course."

"But we obtained a location estimate from the network records."

My heart accelerated.

"Where?"

"Near Ashcroft House."

I stood.

"The abandoned facility?"

"Yes."

"Then Thomas is there."

"Possibly."

"What about Eleanor?"

"We've requested an interview. Her attorney says she's unavailable."

I laughed bitterly.

"Unavailable?"

"That's what he said."

"She was standing beside me yesterday."

"I know."

"Now she won't speak to police?"

Harris paused.

"Daniel, we're obtaining authorization to search the property."

"How long?"

"We're moving as quickly as the legal process allows."

I rubbed my forehead.

"What about Riverside?"

"We secured the basement this morning."

My pulse quickened.

"Did you find the records room?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"It's empty."

I froze.

"What?"

"The room contains shelving, filing cabinets, and several old safes. Most are empty."

"Most?"

"One safe is locked."

I felt a surge of hope.

"Then open it."

"We have a specialist working on it."

I glanced at the clock.

"How soon?"

"I'll contact you when we know."

Before ending the call, Harris added, "Daniel, there's something unusual about the room."

"What?"

"The door has been modified."

I frowned.

"Modified how?"

"A second locking mechanism was installed from the outside."

I felt a chill.

"Why?"

"We don't know."

I remembered the steel door behind the wall in my mansion.

The concealed chamber.

The reinforced lock.

The scratches around the frame.

"Detective," I whispered, "was the Riverside records room designed to keep people out?"

Harris hesitated.

"Not necessarily."

My stomach tightened.

"Then what?"

"It may have been designed to keep someone inside."

At ten, Marcus arrived at the hospital.

I hadn't invited him.

A security officer called to ask whether I would accept a visitor.

When I heard his name, I almost refused.

Then I changed my mind.

Marcus entered the private waiting room looking as though he hadn't slept.

His normally immaculate suit was wrinkled.

Dark circles surrounded his eyes.

He carried a leather briefcase.

"Daniel."

I remained standing.

"What do you want?"

"To help."

I laughed without humor.

"That's becoming a popular phrase."

He accepted the criticism.

"I deserve that."

"Yes, you do."

Marcus placed the briefcase on the table.

"I heard the police searched Riverside."

My expression hardened.

"How?"

"The property manager called me."

"Did you tell him to?"

"No."

I studied him.

"What's in the case?"

"Documents."

"What kind?"

"Records your father asked me to preserve."

My pulse quickened.

"Why didn't you give them to Harris?"

"Because I wanted you to see them first."

I stared at him.

"Marcus, we're past the point where private meetings are a good idea."

He nodded.

"Then call Harris."

That surprised me.

I took out my phone.

Marcus waited.

When Harris answered, I explained that Marcus had arrived with documents.

"Don't open the briefcase," Harris said.

I looked at Marcus.

He raised both hands.

"I won't touch it."

Harris continued.

"I'm sending an officer to collect it."

Marcus nodded when I relayed the instruction.

Then he sat down.

"Daniel, there's something you need to understand about your father."

I folded my arms.

"Which one?"

Marcus looked pained.

"Richard."

I remained silent.

"He wasn't always the man you remember."

I laughed bitterly.

"He was demanding, controlling, and obsessed with money. Which part am I supposed to reconsider?"

Marcus lowered his eyes.

"He was also frightened."

"Of Eleanor?"

"Yes."

I stared at him.

"Why?"

Marcus hesitated.

"Because she knew how to destroy people without touching them."

Marcus told me that Richard and Eleanor's marriage had been troubled long before I was old enough to notice.

They fought over money.

Over business decisions.

Over the management of Eleanor's inherited assets.

But their worst conflict concerned Thomas Vale.

"Richard knew Eleanor loved Thomas," Marcus said.

I looked away.

"He married her anyway."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because their families had financial interests tied together."

I frowned.

"An arranged marriage?"

"Not exactly. But there were agreements."

"What agreements?"

Marcus glanced at the briefcase.

"Some are in there."

I stared at it.

"Did Richard arrange Thomas's disappearance?"

Marcus hesitated.

"I don't know."

"That's not good enough."

"It's the truth."

I leaned forward.

"Thomas called me last night. He said Eleanor arranged it."

Marcus went still.

"Thomas is alive?"

"Apparently."

His expression changed.

For the first time, he looked genuinely shocked.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know."

Marcus rubbed his forehead.

"Then Richard was right."

I frowned.

"About what?"

"Thomas never died."

I stared at him.

"Richard knew?"

"He suspected."

"For how long?"

"Years."

I felt anger rise.

"And nobody told me?"

Marcus looked at me.

"Daniel, your family spent decades protecting secrets. I became part of that system long before I understood what it was doing."

"That's not an excuse."

"No."

He lowered his head.

"It isn't."

At noon, Detective Harris returned.

He brought the briefcase to an evidence room and arranged for Marcus to provide a formal statement.

Before leaving, Marcus turned toward me.

"Daniel."

I looked at him.

"There's something in those documents you need to see."

"What?"

He hesitated.

"A letter."

"From whom?"

"Thomas."

My heart accelerated.

"When?"

"Twenty-six years ago."

I stared at him.

"Before he disappeared?"

Marcus nodded.

"Yes."

"What does it say?"

His expression darkened.

"That he was afraid Eleanor would take his child."

I couldn't speak.

Marcus continued.

"He believed she intended to use you to secure control of her family's assets."

I felt sick.

"You're saying my mother used me?"

"I'm saying Thomas believed it."

"Did Richard know?"

"Yes."

I stared at him.

"And he married her anyway?"

Marcus nodded.

"Because he believed he could protect you."

I laughed bitterly.

"By lying to me for forty-two years?"

Marcus didn't answer.

He didn't need to.

At two thirty, Harris called me into a private conference room.

He placed a photocopy of Thomas's letter on the table.

The paper was yellowed.

The handwriting was uneven.

The date was from the year I was born.

I read it slowly.

Richard,

If anything happens to me, you must make sure Daniel is safe.

Eleanor has become convinced that the family trust is the only way to protect him. I no longer believe she understands the difference between protection and possession.

She has threatened to remove him from my life.

I am afraid she will do whatever is necessary to keep control.

Please don't let her turn our son into another bargaining chip.

I stopped reading.

My eyes returned to the final sentence.

Our son.

I looked at Harris.

"What does that mean?"

He studied me.

"We don't know."

I read the words again.

Our son.

Thomas had written to Richard.

But he referred to me as our son.

Not my son.

Not Eleanor's child.

Our son.

I felt my stomach tighten.

"Was Richard involved in raising me before Thomas disappeared?"

"Possibly."

I shook my head.

"That doesn't explain the wording."

Harris leaned forward.

"Daniel, we need to consider that the letter may have been written under unusual circumstances. We haven't authenticated it yet."

I stared at the page.

For years, I had believed Richard was my biological father.

Then Eleanor told me Thomas was.

Now Thomas's own letter suggested a relationship I didn't understand.

Was Richard a protector?

A rival?

An accomplice?

Or something else entirely?

"Detective," I whispered, "what if both men knew more about my birth than Eleanor told me?"

Harris didn't answer.

At four fifteen, the specialist opened the safe at Riverside.

Harris called immediately.

"We found the file."

I stood.

"Thomas's file?"

"Yes."

"What was inside?"

"Photographs, financial records, and a sealed medical envelope."

My pulse accelerated.

"Medical?"

"Yes."

"Whose?"

Harris hesitated.

"Yours."

I stared at the wall.

"My medical records?"

"Records from your birth."

I felt a chill.

"What do they say?"

"We're still reviewing them."

"Detective."

He sighed.

"Daniel, the file includes a birth certificate that differs from the one you've used your entire life."

I closed my eyes.

"How?"

"The father's name is different."

"Thomas?"

"No."

My heart stopped.

"Then who?"

Harris paused.

"Richard Mercer."

I stared at the wall.

"That doesn't make sense."

"I know."

"Eleanor told me Thomas was my biological father."

"Yes."

"And now you have a birth certificate naming Richard?"

"Yes."

I rubbed my forehead.

"Which one is real?"

"We don't know yet."

Then Harris said something that made my blood run cold.

"There's also a genetic testing report."

I froze.

"What?"

"An older one."

"How old?"

"More than twenty years."

I felt my pulse hammer.

"Who was tested?"

"Richard and Thomas."

I stared at the floor.

"Why?"

"The report appears to concern biological relationships."

I swallowed.

"And the result?"

Harris hesitated.

"Daniel, the document suggests Richard and Thomas were related."

I couldn't speak.

"How?"

He took a breath.

"According to the report, they were brothers."

For several seconds, I heard nothing.

Richard Mercer.

Thomas Vale.

Brothers.

The two men who had shaped my life from opposite sides of a secret.

One had raised me.

The other had supposedly fathered me.

And now I was learning they shared blood.

"That's impossible," I whispered.

Harris remained silent.

"Richard never mentioned a brother."

"That doesn't mean he didn't have one."

"Thomas's surname was Vale."

"People can change names."

I closed my eyes.

My family history was becoming a maze.

Every answer led to another hidden relationship.

Every revelation made the previous one less certain.

"Does Eleanor know?"

"We haven't asked her yet."

I looked toward Claire's room.

"Then ask."

"We will."

I ended the call.

For a long time, I stood beside the window.

Outside, the city continued moving.

Cars passed.

People walked along the sidewalks.

Life carried on as though nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

My father might not be my father.

My biological father might be my uncle.

My mother had been alive for twenty-six years.

My wife had been imprisoned for eighteen months.

And my daughter had become the target of people who seemed to believe her bloodline was worth more than her life.

At seven that evening, Claire asked me to sit beside her.

She looked stronger than she had the previous day.

Her cheeks had regained a little color.

But her eyes remained haunted.

"Dan, I need to tell you something."

I sat.

"What?"

"About Vanessa."

My chest tightened.

"What about her?"

"She used to talk to someone through the ventilation system."

I frowned.

"While you were imprisoned?"

Claire nodded.

"Sometimes at night."

"Who?"

"I never saw them."

"Could you hear the conversations?"

"Only fragments."

I leaned forward.

"What did they say?"

Claire looked down.

"Once, I heard Vanessa say the test results were wrong."

My pulse quickened.

"What test results?"

"I don't know."

"Did she mention Lily?"

Claire hesitated.

"Yes."

I felt my stomach tighten.

"What did she say?"

Claire swallowed.

"She said Lily wasn't the person they needed."

I stared at her.

"What?"

"She sounded angry. Frightened."

"Who was she talking to?"

Claire shook her head.

"I couldn't hear the other voice clearly."

I leaned closer.

"What happened next?"

Claire's eyes filled with tears.

"Vanessa said they had made a mistake."

"What mistake?"

She looked directly at me.

"She said they had been watching the wrong child."

At eight thirty, Detective Harris called again.

His voice was urgent.

"Daniel, we need to speak."

"What happened?"

"We've finished examining the medical envelope from Riverside."

My heart accelerated.

"And?"

"The records contain another name."

"What name?"

Harris hesitated.

"A child."

I froze.

"What child?"

"A girl born six years ago."

My stomach tightened.

"Lily?"

"No."

I stared at the wall.

"Then who?"

He took a breath.

"Her name is Sophie."

I frowned.

"Sophie who?"

Harris paused.

"Sophie Mercer."

I stopped breathing.

"Mercer?"

"Yes."

I looked toward Claire.

She was watching me.

"Who are her parents?"

Harris hesitated.

"That's what we're trying to establish."

I felt a chill.

"Why is her record in my birth file?"

"Because someone added it later."

"When?"

"Approximately six years ago."

I closed my eyes.

The year Lily was born.

"Detective, what does this mean?"

Harris's voice became quiet.

"Daniel, the file contains a photograph of Sophie."

My pulse hammered.

"And?"

"She looks remarkably like Lily."

I couldn't speak.

Then Harris said the words that made my entire world stop.

"According to the documents, Sophie and Lily were born on the same day, at the same hospital."