Chapter 11 - The Man Upstairs
The footsteps hit the stairs fast.
A man in a black jacket appeared at the top landing, saw Bell, and turned back.
“Stop!”
He ran toward the rear bedroom.
Two officers entered through the front and cut off the hall. The man tried to climb out a window, slipped on the roof edge, and was pulled back inside before he could jump to the garage.
His name was Daniel Cross.
Richard had seen him before.
“You were at Marianne’s funeral,” he said.
Cross stared at him without emotion.
Detective Bell checked his wallet.
Private investigator license.
Former police officer.
Three different business cards.
One had Grant Mercer’s company logo.
“What were you doing in this house?” Bell asked.
Cross said nothing.
In his backpack were Claire’s laptop, two external drives, Richard’s missing letter from Marianne, and a small metal box.
Richard reached for the letter.
Bell stopped him. “Evidence first.”
“That is my wife’s handwriting.”
“I know.”
At the hospital, Claire received the news by phone.
“Read it to me,” she said.
Bell refused until the document had been photographed and logged.
An hour later, Richard sat beside Claire’s bed and unfolded a copy.
Marianne’s handwriting was unmistakable.
Claire,
If you are reading this, then Grant has done something that made your father believe you are in danger. I pray I was wrong about him. But I have learned that love can make smart people explain away things they would never accept from a stranger.
Claire covered her mouth.
Richard kept reading.
Grant has access to men who erase problems. One of them is Daniel Cross. Another is someone inside St. Anne’s Hospital. I do not know the name. I only know Grant called this person “Dad” because he said the man taught him everything.
Claire whispered, “St. Anne’s.”
That was the hospital where she was lying.
Richard continued.
If he ever brings you there when you are vulnerable, do not sign anything. Do not let him choose your doctors. And do not trust—
Richard stopped.
“What?” Claire asked.
He looked at the last line.
“Dad, read it.”
His face had gone pale.
“Do not trust Dr. Samuel Vale.”
Claire stared at him.
Peter Vale, Grant’s attorney, had the same last name.
Then the door opened.
Claire’s obstetrician walked in with an older man in a white coat.
“Claire,” she said, “this is the hospital’s chief medical officer.”
He smiled gently.
May you like
“Dr. Samuel Vale.”
SOFT PINK
