Chapter 5 - Elise’s Last Message
Grant had not listened to Elise’s final voicemail in nearly three years.
He kept it backed up in three places.
He could never delete it.
He also could not bear hearing it.
Until now.
Daniel retrieved the archived recording from Grant’s private cloud storage.
Grant listened alone.
Elise’s voice filled the small hospital office.
“Hey.”
She sounded tired.
“If you get this before your meeting, call me.”
A pause.
“And don’t panic.”
Grant remembered the exact meeting.
A merger negotiation in Boston.
He had seen the voicemail afterward.
By then, Elise had told him the issue was probably nothing.
The recording continued.
“I think that car is behind me again.”
Grant’s skin prickled.
“The dark one.”
“I couldn’t see the driver.”
Another pause.
“I know this sounds ridiculous.”
“But it has been outside the house twice.”
“And it was near Noah’s pediatrician yesterday.”
Grant leaned forward.
He had forgotten that detail.
The pediatrician.
“I’m probably being paranoid.”
“Call me when you can.”
“I love you.”
The voicemail ended.
Grant sat motionless.
Daniel stood near the door.
“Was there ever an investigation?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Grant hated himself for the answer.
“Because she died from an aneurysm twelve days later.”
Elise’s death had been sudden.
She collapsed in the kitchen.
Doctors found a ruptured cerebral aneurysm.
No foul play.
No suspicious injury.
Nothing anyone considered criminal.
Grant had spent months believing he should have noticed symptoms.
Headaches.
Fatigue.
Nausea.
Her doctors told him aneurysms could rupture without warning.
Grant eventually accepted that explanation.
Now a woman connected to Adrian Vale had entered his life shortly afterward.
The same Adrian who was now helping forge documents involving Noah’s inheritance.
Grant rubbed his face.
“Find the car.”
Daniel hesitated.
“From four years ago?”
“Every exterior camera backup.”
“Traffic cameras if any records remain.”
“Neighbor photographs.”
“Anything.”
“I’ll try.”
Grant looked at him.
“Do more than try.”
Daniel nodded.
Grant immediately regretted snapping at him.
Daniel had been loyal for eleven years.
None of this was his failure.
Grant stood.
“Sorry.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No need.”
“There is.”
Grant walked toward the window.
“I missed everything.”
Daniel remained silent.
Grant continued.
“Noah was scared.”
“Tessa warned me.”
“Elise warned me.”
“And every time, I had something more important happening.”
Daniel spoke carefully.
“Vivienne built her strategy around you doubting ordinary warning signs.”
Grant looked back.
“That does not excuse me.”
“No.”
Daniel’s honesty was one reason Grant trusted him.
“But guilt will make you reckless.”
Grant almost smiled.
“You and Ortiz rehearsing together?”
“No.”
“She scares me.”
Despite everything, Grant gave a brief breath of laughter.
Then his phone rang.
Detective Ortiz.
“We located Vivienne.”
Grant straightened.
“Where?”
“Not exactly located.”
His hope vanished.
“What does that mean?”
“She used an ATM camera.”
“Where?”
“Downtown.”
“When?”
“Twenty-three minutes ago.”
Grant frowned.
“Her cards are frozen.”
“She did not use a card.”
“What did she do?”
“She stood in front of the camera.”
Grant understood.
“She wanted us to see her.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
Ortiz continued.
“She held up a note.”
Grant felt cold.
“What note?”
Ortiz sent him the still image.
Vivienne stood outside the bank.
No makeup.
Hair pulled back.
A hooded sweatshirt.
She held a white sheet of paper.
Two words were written across it.
ASK TESSA.
Grant stared.
Daniel looked over his shoulder.
“What does that mean?”
Grant did not answer.
He went directly to Tessa’s room.
She was standing beside the bed gathering her clothes.
A nurse helped her.
Grant held up the image.
“What is this?”
Tessa looked at it.
Her face changed.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
Grant noticed.
“Tessa.”
She sat.
The nurse sensed the tension.
“I’ll give you a minute.”
When the door closed, Grant showed her the image again.
“What is she telling me to ask you?”
Tessa stared at the floor.
Grant felt something inside him tighten.
“You know.”
Tessa whispered.
“Yes.”
“What?”
She rubbed her palms together.
“I didn’t tell you everything.”
Grant’s anger rose.
“About today?”
“No.”
“About Vivienne?”
“Not exactly.”
“Tessa.”
She looked at him.
“About Elise.”
Grant stopped.
The room seemed to shrink.
“What about my wife?”
Tessa’s eyes filled.
“I knew her.”
Grant stared.
“You worked for us.”
“No.”
“I mean before that.”
Grant took one slow step closer.
“How?”
Tessa looked terrified.
“I worked at the private medical office she used.”
Grant remembered the clinic.
Elise had seen a neurologist there during the final month of her life because of recurring headaches.
Tessa had been hired as Noah’s caregiver two years later.
Grant had never connected the names.
“You were a nurse?”
“Medical assistant.”
Grant’s pulse increased.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wasn’t supposed to have seen what I saw.”
Grant said nothing.
Tessa began.
“About three weeks before Elise died, she came into the clinic without an appointment.”
“She was frightened.”
“She asked to speak with Dr. Harrow.”
Grant remembered Dr. Stephen Harrow.
He had treated Elise.
“What happened?”
“He wasn’t there.”
“I brought her into an examination room.”
“She said someone had accessed her medical records.”
Grant’s chest tightened.
“How did she know?”
“She received an automated notice.”
“Someone requested copies of her scans.”
“Who?”
Tessa shook her head.
“She didn’t know.”
“She asked us.”
“The request had come through a legal authorization.”
Grant stared.
“What legal authorization?”
“I never saw the complete document.”
“But Dr. Harrow’s office manager told her it looked valid.”
“Elise said she never signed anything.”
Grant’s mouth went dry.
“What happened next?”
“Twelve days later, she died.”
Grant leaned against the wall.
“Tessa.”
She looked at him.
“Why didn’t you tell police?”
“I tried to tell Dr. Harrow.”
“What did he say?”
“That there was no evidence the record request had anything to do with her death.”
“He said I was violating patient confidentiality by discussing it.”
“And then?”
“I was fired.”
Grant stared.
“They fired you?”
“Two weeks after Elise died.”
“Why?”
“Officially, for accessing records outside my duties.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Grant’s disappointment showed.
Tessa immediately continued.
“I accessed the audit log because I wanted to see who requested Elise’s records.”
Grant straightened.
“And?”
“The authorization came from a legal services company.”
“What company?”
Tessa closed her eyes.
“Vale Investigative Consulting.”
Grant felt as if the floor had moved.
“Adrian Vale.”
“Yes.”
Grant turned away.
For a moment, he could not think.
Tessa continued.
“I copied the audit page.”
Grant turned back sharply.
“You have it?”
“Not anymore.”
“Where is it?”
“I hid it.”
“Where?”
“In a storage box.”
“Then someone broke into my apartment.”
Grant stared.
“When?”
“Three days after I was fired.”
“The only thing missing was that box.”
“Why did you later apply to work for me?”
Tessa looked ashamed.
“That part was not an accident.”
Grant’s anger returned.
“You targeted my family?”
“I wanted to know whether Elise’s death was connected to the records.”
“You entered my home under false pretenses.”
“I came to protect Noah.”
Grant laughed without humor.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
Tessa’s tears began.
“But it is true.”
Grant stepped back.
“How did you get hired?”
“Your agency.”
“You manipulated your résumé?”
“No.”
“I was qualified.”
“Did you know Noah was my son when you applied?”
“Yes.”
Grant looked at her as though seeing a stranger.
For two years, Tessa had been the most trusted adult in Noah’s life besides Grant.
Now another person had admitted entering his household with a secret.
Tessa stood.
“I never lied about my qualifications.”
“You lied about why you were there.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever investigate me?”
“No.”
“My office?”
“No.”
“My files?”
“No.”
“Vivienne?”
Tessa hesitated.
Grant saw it.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I searched her name after she moved in.”
“And you found Adrian.”
“No.”
“That is the problem.”
Grant frowned.
“What?”
“I found nothing.”
“She had almost no history before age twenty-eight.”
“That made no sense.”
“Everyone has something.”
“Old addresses.”
“School records.”
“Work.”
“Marriage.”
“Traffic tickets.”
“She barely existed.”
Grant remembered Vivienne’s story.
She grew up abroad.
Private schools.
Family money lost after her father died.
She claimed she valued privacy.
Grant had found her mystery attractive.
Now it looked manufactured.
Tessa continued.
“So I searched aliases.”
“Did you find one?”
“Maybe.”
Grant waited.
“Vanessa Caldwell.”
Grant frowned.
“Sister?”
“That’s what I thought.”
“But there are photographs.”
Tessa opened her phone.
She searched an old email.
Then showed him.
A charity gala photograph from six years earlier.
A woman stood beside Adrian Vale.
The caption identified her as Vanessa Caldwell.
Grant stared.
She had black hair.
Different eyebrows.
Slightly fuller face.
But the eyes were Vivienne’s.
Grant whispered.
“She changed her name.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Grant looked at the photograph again.
Another person stood in the background.
A doctor.
Grant enlarged the image.
Dr. Stephen Harrow.
Elise’s neurologist.
Grant felt his pulse hammering.
“Why is Harrow there?”
“It was a medical charity fundraiser.”
Grant looked at Tessa.
“You knew this?”
“I found the photo four months ago.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I had no proof.”
“You had a photograph linking Vivienne, Adrian, and my wife’s doctor.”
Tessa flinched.
“I was scared you would fire me before I figured out what it meant.”
Grant’s voice hardened.
“You did not have the right to decide that.”
“I know.”
“No.”
“You don’t.”
Grant turned toward the door.
Tessa called after him.
“Grant.”
He stopped.
“There’s one more thing.”
Grant almost did not turn around.
He did.
Tessa looked terrified.
“Two nights ago, Vivienne came into Noah’s room after midnight.”
Grant’s blood ran cold.
“What did she do?”
“I don’t know.”
“I saw her leaving.”
“Why didn’t the camera capture it?”
“Because the hallway camera was off.”
Grant remembered the administrator logins.
“What was she carrying?”
Tessa swallowed.
“A syringe.”
Grant stared.
“Did she touch Noah?”
“I checked him immediately.”
“He was asleep.”
“I didn’t see any mark.”
“Why didn’t you take him to a doctor?”
“She told me it was an injector for her migraine medicine.”
“And I wanted to believe her.”
Grant’s phone rang.
Ortiz again.
He answered immediately.
“We found Vivienne’s abandoned bag.”
Grant’s voice was barely steady.
“Where?”
“Bus terminal locker.”
“What was inside?”
“A passport under the name Vanessa Caldwell.”
Grant closed his eyes.
Ortiz continued.
“And a prescription vial.”
Grant gripped the phone.
“For what?”
A pause.
“Midazolam.”
Grant knew enough to understand.
A powerful sedative.
Ortiz added one more sentence.
May you like
“The prescription was issued by Dr. Stephen Harrow.”
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